West to the Bay

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  Little Bird wondered how her mother could stay so calm.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to marry her?”

  “If she will have me.”

  “And we will never see you again?”

  “I will not be back.”

  “Will you tell Mother about her?”

  “No. And I do not want you to either.”

  “Your granddaughters and I will miss you.”

  Givens looked at Little Bird and Spotted Fawn. There was sorrow in his eyes. “And I will miss them. And you. But it is a choice I must make.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “You do?” Givens asked. “You do not hate me for choosing this woman over you and your mother and your daughters?”

  “I am not the one you should be worried about.”

  “No. You are right. But I do not know how to tell her.”

  “She will be sad when she hears.”

  That was not the word Little Bird would use. She knew her grandmother would be much more than sad, especially since she had long hoped her husband would someday return to her land for good.

  Givens looked at his daughter. “Would you say goodbye to Patient Woman for me? I do not think I can do it.”

  Before Moon Face could answer the flap was lifted and Patient Woman stepped into the teepee. “Why can you not say goodbye to me?” she asked.

  Givens paled and looked helplessly at his daughter.

  “Father is not returning after this year.”

  Patient Woman searched her husband’s face. “This is true?”

  Little Bird felt her heart go out to her grandmother. Was she reliving the moment when he had first left her all those years ago?

  “I cannot.”

  “Is there a reason?”

  “I am too old to make the voyages.”

  “And you do not wish to live with us.”

  “No....yes.” Givens ran his hand through his hair. “That is, I want to be with you, and I was planning to live here when I retired, but now I cannot.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you do not.” Givens took Patient Woman in his arms. He spoke softly as he explained.

  “There is a woman I know. She was the wife of a sailor friend of mine who died at sea. After her husband’s death, she moved back to her hometown of Stromness. When the supply ships stopped there for water and provisions and to pick up the new recruits, I would visit her and her two children. Now her children are grown. Her daughter has gone to London to work and her son sailed with me. During a storm a wave swept him into the ocean.”

  Givens put his hands on Patient Woman’s shoulders. His eyes searched hers. “She will need someone when she hears the news of her son.”

  “Yes,” Patient Woman nodded. “She will.”

  “But Grandmother needs you, too,” Little Bird blurted out, unable to keep quiet any longer.

  Givens looked at Little Bird then back at Patient Woman “You have your family, and our daughter and granddaughters to look after you. She has no one.”

  He took her face in his hands. “I love you and I will always think of you.” He kissed her, hugged and kissed his daughter and granddaughters then left the teepee.

  * * *

  The evening after the ship sailed, Henry and Francis could barely contain their excitement.

  “Henry and I are going to the Indian village tonight,” Francis said to Thomas.

  “Yes, Jarvis and Luke have made arrangements for us to meet two girls,” Henry added. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “They said there is a girl for you, if you want to come.”

  Thomas nodded. This was his home now and it was time he learned about life here. And maybe he would meet the girl he had seen on the first day.

  “What about you, Richard?” Henry asked. “Do you want to come too?”

  Thomas looked over where Richard lay on his bed. His nose was still swollen and one eye was black. He shook his head. “I am too tired.”

  At dusk Thomas, Henry, and Francis followed the two men over to the Indian village.

  “You wait here while we get the girls,” Jarvis said. He walked up to a teepee and raised the flap. His voice was low when he spoke and in a few moments three young girls came out. They stood in a row while the boys squinted in the growing darkness.

  “Bring them over so we can get a better look,” Thomas said. He could not tell if one of them was the girl.

  “Not so fast,” Luke said. “This is the first meeting and according to Indian custom, they have to wear a veil to hide their faces.”

  “That is a strange custom,” Francis said.

  “If you do not want them to cover their faces, you will have to return to the post.”

  “It is fine with us,” Henry said, hastily.

  “Now, on the first meeting you may sit beside her and talk. If she is agreeable, you may hold hands. And if she really likes you, she will raise the veil so you can kiss her. Do you understand?”

  The boys nodded. They watched as the girls stepped back into the teepee. In a few minutes they emerged with their faces covered. They also had on skin robes which made them look larger.

  “Henry, you take the girl on the left,” Jarvis said. “She is willing to walk with you as far as the end of the village.”

  Henry hurried over to her.

  “Francis, the middle one is yours. She just wants to sit by the edge of the teepee.”

  Francis walked slowly towards the girl. She headed around to the back of the teepee and sat on the ground. He joined her.

  “Thomas, your girl wants to walk towards the post.”

  Thomas went and stood beside her. She was just a shadow in the darkness. “Come this way,” he said.

  The silence between them grew as they walked. He asked her name.

  “Yellow Leaf,” she replied, her voice low and raspy.

  Thomas was surprised. He expected a higher voice, much like the girls in Stromness.

  “How old are you?” he continued.

  “Fifteen.”

  “Do you have any sisters and brothers?”

  “Yes.”

  She did not add to the conversation and he ran out of questions. She must be shy, he finally concluded. He decided to see if she liked him. He reached out his hand for hers in the dark. When he found it, she let him hold it. He felt elated. She liked him.

  “I am from Stromness,” he said, for lack of anything else to talk about. “My father owns a farm there.”

  Yellow Leaf made noises behind her veil which he did not understand.

  “I have three brothers and two sisters, and my Mother is a good cook.” When she did not answer he wondered what to do next. She held his hand, so she liked him. Did she like him enough to let him kiss her? Did he ask or wait for her to lift the veil? He felt her hand leave his and he looked at her. He could see her raising the veil and his heart skipped a beat.

  He bent his head until he could see the faint outline of her lips. She had the veil up in front of her eyes. He leaned in and put his lips on hers. He had kissed a few girls in Stromness, but their lips were not as soft as hers. In fact, her lips were so soft and yielding they felt as if there were no teeth behind them.

  When they had finished kissing Thomas wondered what to do next. Did the kiss signal the end of their meeting? It must, because she turned and began walking back to the village and the teepee. Thomas heard a noise in the bush as he followed. He listened and heard it again. It might be some wild animal he thought as he quickened his step.

  Jarvis and Luke stood at the entrance to the teepee with a lit candle. Just as Thomas arrived with Yellow Leaf, Henry and Francis each came up with their girls.

  “How did it go?” Jarvis asked.

  “Great,” Henry said. “She let me kiss her.”

  “Me, too,” Frances stated.

  Thomas was about to answer the same when he heard footsteps around them. Out of the darkness stepped many of the men from the post.

 
“Why are all these men here?” Francis asked.

  The men laughed as the Indian girls stepped forward. Luke held the candle away from them as Jarvis removed the veils from their faces. Then Luke thrust it close revealing, not the young maidens the boys had picked out, but three old women with wrinkled faces and toothless grins.

  “Ahh,” Thomas screamed. He heard Henry and Francis yell too. They quickly wiped their mouths with their sleeves then turned and pushed their way through the laughing men and ran back to the fort.

  Chapter 14

  When they arrived at the quarters, they studiously ignored each other. Thomas pretended he needed something from his bag. Henry turned back the covers of his bed. Francis went over to pull the blanket over Richard’s shoulders. Then with a sheepish grin Thomas glanced sideways at Francis. Francis grinned back and looked at Henry. Soon they lay on their beds laughing at the joke pulled on them.

  “I thought the veil was a strange custom,” Francis said.

  “Yeah, I wondered why the girls had put on those robes.” Thomas’ sides hurt from laughing so hard.

  “I guess I should have known something was wrong when her hands felt so rough,” Henry said.

  Luke and Jarvis entered the room along with the other men. “Do you want to visit the village again tomorrow night?” Luke asked.

  “No,” Francis said. “Once is enough.”

  “They will let you kiss them again.”

  The boys shook their heads.

  “You did not have to let it go that far,” Henry grumbled.

  “Hey, it was pulled on us when we came,” Jarvis said. “And you can help us trick some of the new recruits next year.”

  “How do you get the Indian women to go along with it?” Thomas asked.

  “They enjoy it as much as we do,” Luke said.

  * * *

  Little Bird stood in the shadows as the joke was played on the new boys. Most of the villagers hid behind the teepees and trees and watched as the switch was made. They snickered when the boys held hands and then kissed the old women. Occasionally, in the past, when the truth was revealed one of the boys would get mad, but mainly they would be shocked and embarrassed before running back to the post.

  Spotted Fawn had taken part in the fun in past years but refused this year because she was married to White Paddler. When Little Bird asked her to come and watch she had said no. Moon Face and Patient Woman usually joined her but they, too, would not come. They were in mourning for her grandfather. Little Bird knew that she should be in mourning too, but she was still angry at him for choosing the other woman over her grandmother.

  She recognized the boy she had seen on that first day, the one she thought might be White Paddler’s brother. She saw him walk away with one of the old women and then return with her. She moved closer so she could see his face in the candlelight. She saw the shocked look and heard the laughter around her when he and the other two ran away, but for some reason the joke was not funny anymore. Little Bird did not know if it was because of her grandfather’s news, or because she was older, or maybe because the trick had been played on the boy she had seen. She wished she could find out his name and learn if he was White Paddler’s brother.

  When she walked back to the teepee, she could still hear her grandmother keening the mourning song. She had started soon after her grandfather left the teepee and continued throughout the night and today. Little Bird knew she would have to stop soon. Her voice was almost gone.

  She lifted the flap and stepped in, going over to her mat. Spotted Fawn lifted an eyebrow in question. Little Bird shrugged her shoulders. “It was the same as always. They cry out, they wipe their mouths, and they run away.”

  “Yes, I think the only ones who find it funny are the ones it was played on last year. They enjoy getting some revenge.”

  Little Bird looked over at her grandmother. Her eyes were closed and her head thrown back as she lamented her loss. Moon Face also had her eyes closed, but she had quit singing. Spotted Fawn was stitching a dress for herself.

  Why was she sitting as if nothing had happened? Little Bird wondered. Why was she not mourning him or angry at him? “Are you not upset at him?” Little Bird demanded.

  “Yes, I am,” Spotted Fawn said.

  “Then why are you stitching so quietly?”

  “Because anger will not bring him back. He has made his decision and it is up to us to adjust to it.”

  “Well, I cannot. He should be here with us, with grandmother. We can look after him better than that other woman can.”

  “I think to him it is a question of who needs him more,” Spotted Fawn said.

  “We need him. Grandmother needs him to look after her in her old age.”

  “You, and I, and Red Elk can do that. The other woman has no one.”

  “It is not fair. He is our grandfather. He should be with us.” Little Bird picked up the hide she had prepared for her grandfather’s moccasins. She held it thinking of the hours she and her grandmother had spent in the scraping and the rubbing and the chewing to tan it just right. She threw it over on the pile of hides for the moccasins her mother made. And she dumped the special colored beads she had selected from the bag back with the others. She did not need them anymore.

  “You can still make moccasins out of it,” Spotted Fawn said.

  “For whom?”

  “Red Elk, or one of the men in the village, or even for yourself.”

  Little Fawn shook her head. “It would not seem right to make moccasins for someone else from the hide meant for grandfather. If I make a pair for myself it will be a constant reminder of him.”

  “And would that be so bad?”

  “Yes, it would.”

  * * *

  “We are harvesting the garden today,” Henry said one morning, as they were leaving the mess.

  “I did not know they had a garden here,” Thomas said.

  “Where do you think the vegetables in the stew come from?”

  Thomas shrugged. “I really had not thought about it. How big is the garden?”

  “It is not much, just turnips, carrots, and potatoes.”

  “Where is it?”

  “On part of the plantation,” Francis answered.

  “What is the plantation?” He began to realize he was missing much by working in the stores. Henry and Francis seemed to have the more interesting jobs.

  “It is a clearing near the fort. Luke said the Indians come from inland and set up their teepees there during the trade. He said sometimes there are a hundred teepees side by side. The garden is on one edge of the clearing.”

  Richard passed them on his way to clean the tables. Thomas saw he was as pale as he had been on the ship and he seemed to have shrunken into himself. He did not look in their direction.

  “It seems your father was wrong,” Henry said. “Sending Richard here has not improved his health.”

  “Yes,” Francis admitted, “and it has hurt his spirit. He goes to the cookhouse, does his work, and then returns to his bed. He hardly talks.”

  “I do not blame him with that cook for a boss,” Thomas said, remembering the incident. “I am just glad to see he has not hit Richard again.”

  “Me, too,” Francis said. “If he does, though, I will take care of it.”

  Francis had been grateful to Thomas for stepping in to defend Richard. Even so, he had told Thomas that he alone was responsible for Richard and wanted to know about any problems so he could confront the cook himself.

  “Maybe they will let Richard go home next summer,” Henry said.

  “I hope he lasts until summer.”

  “Stop your gabbing,” Manchester growled behind them. “There is work to be done.”

  The two boys hurried ahead. Francis fell in with Henry and the other woodcutters. Every day the men went out to the bush to chop down trees. Then they were cut into pieces and hauled to the fort to dry for use in the stoves. Because of the years of cutting by the bay men, they now had to travel far
from the fort to find large enough trees. Thomas watched them leave with their axes over their shoulders.

  * * *

  “What do you want me to do?” Thomas asked, when he arrived at the storehouse.

  “We have to restock the shelves with the new supplies,” Wemple said. He went and got a ladder which he leaned against the shelves. “Come help me carry the things out here.”

  They went in the back where Wemple handed Thomas a stack of blankets and picked up some powder horns. They carried them to the front, putting them on the counter.

  “The Company discourages us from letting the Indians inside the fort, although no one really follows the directive,” Wemple said. He climbed the ladder. “In fact, Factor Smith encourages the Indians to bring in any furs they have, even if they are pelts from small animals. We will trade beads or shot for them.”

  Thomas handed Wemple some blankets which he put on a top shelf. “It is when the Indians come in a large group that you have to be careful.”

  “Why?” Thomas asked, holding the ladder steady.

  “They know we cannot watch all of them and sometimes they make off with a few of our supplies.”

  “I have not seen any Indians in here since I started.”

  Wemple descended the ladder and pushed it along the shelves. “That is because I do not allow them in until I have gone through the supplies brought by the ship and checked to make sure we have everything. Then I only have certain days when I let them come to trade. Tomorrow is one of them.” He stopped beside the knives and climbed again. Thomas handed him the powder horns which he put on the shelf above the knives. “And because there will be a large group of them, we only allow a certain number in the store at a time.”

  On the next trip to the storehouse they brought out some cooking pots, cloth, and powder, which they arranged on the lower shelves.

  “Now we are going to check the barrels of salt pork and beef that were brought by the ship,” Wemple said. “It should have been done before the ship left, but the Master was in too much of a hurry to leave.”