Stolen Away (9 page)

T
he next day, after a good night's sleep and several bowls of caribou stew, Kiera felt as if she had returned to the land of the living. Then, over the objection of Chocan, who wanted her to rest, she helped the band to process their assigned quota of the caribou kill. In total, her band was allotted thirty-two animals.

The first step in preparing the caribou was to remove the skin. She was shown by the women of the band the technique of removing the caribou hide. After the chest was sliced open, Kiera used a sharp-edged stone to detach the skin from the underlying muscle. She worked her way down to the back legs, over the rump and then back up along the spine. Her goal was to remove as large a single piece as possible. Given the lack of sewing skill among the Beothuck, the bigger the piece of skin, the less work it would be to make a winter garment. After the removal of the skin, she passed it on to other band members, who then scraped it to remove any remaining flesh or fat from the inner surface.

The next step was tanning. Tanning was achieved by rubbing the inside of the skin with the caribou's own brain. The brain mixture would ensure that the skin would toughen and not rot, thereby creating a garment that would last many seasons. When the tanning process was complete, the skin would then be tied and stretched on a drying frame.

After skinning her fifth caribou, Kiera stood up and stretched her aching arms. Absently looking over the busy crowd, she was surprised by the appearance of a strange man who had wandered into the gathering of her band. It was hard for Kiera to guess how old he was, for his skin was not only covered with ochre, but he was also blotched with a random pattern of cinders and ash. His long, dirty hair was braided and hardened into thin, crooked pieces that resembled the flailing roots of an upside down tree. The man approached a dead caribou. The workers stopped and reverently retreated from the animal. He knelt beside the animal and began a mournful chant. Kiera was able to determine that he was offering a prayer of thanks to the departed animal spirit. The man then removed some fur from the remaining skin. He tucked the tuft of hair into a small leather pouch and moved on to the next nearest animal. He didn't acknowledge the members of the band. It was as if they didn't even exist. His eyes saw only the slain animals lying around him.

Kiera was so engaged in watching the man with roots for hair that she jumped when a hand came to rest on her shoulder. She looked up at Chocan. He held a small piece of birch bark in his hand.

“This is a piece of birch bark from your canoe. I found it below the falls. I thought you might like it to help you remember your adventures yesterday.”

She took it and turned it over, staring absently at its rectangular shape.

“I'm not sure that it's an event I will want to remember. Was your canoe still in one piece?”

He nodded. “Huritt and I portaged the canoe back to the Meeting Place.”

Kiera shivered as she remembered, then turned and looked at the man chanting to her band's last caribou.

“Who is he, Chocan?”

“He is the shaman. According to ancient customs, he has the ability to talk to the spirits of the animals. He is required to release the spirits from the dead caribou killed by humans. The spirits will then go out in search of the birth of another caribou. Once found, the spirit will dwell in the new body for the rest of its life.”

Kiera looked puzzled and returned her stare to the shaman. He was now moving his hands in slow circles over the heart of the animal.

“I don't remember that story in church.”

Chocan moved closer and lowered his voice. “It is not something that is approved of by myself, my sister or the other Teachers. It is difficult for the people to let go of the ancient ways.”

“So your teachings are relatively new to the Beothuck?”

“Yes. The true message of the Great Spirit is quite new for these people. Although they welcome my teachings, they are also reluctant to give up the old ways. For instance, I know that after they bring their young child to me for blessing with the Water of Life, they quietly seek out the shaman and ask for his acceptance of their child by the spirits of the forest. The shaman is a very powerful and spiritual man among our people.”

Kiera gazed at the shaman, now wandering on to examine the animals of the adjoining band. “Is he upset with your teachings?”

Chocan looked over to the shaman with a hint of sadness. “No. But he refuses to have a conversation with me, not that he is a talkative one to begin with. My guess is that he is simply being patient. I think he believes that in the long run, his teachings will outlast ours, that the Beothuck will eventually return to their traditional ways.” Chocan paused and sighed. “And he may be right.”

“You said that the teachings of the Great Spirit are relatively new. How long have the Teachers been with the Beothuck nation?”

“Atchak was the first.”

“Atchak? The leader of the whole nation?”

He nodded. “He started teaching here when he was a young man. When my sister and I arrived five years ago, I was amazed at the work he had been able to accomplish among these people. I had hoped to follow in his footsteps and perhaps someday be a leader myself.”

Kiera tilted her head in surprise. “Did you say arrived? You mean to tell me that you and Sooleawaa are not Beothuck?”

“Although our great-great-grandfather was of your homeland, the place you call Ireland, our blood is otherwise part of the Mi'kmaq nation.”

Kiera was completely confused. “Did you say Mi'kmaq?”

“Yes,” explained Chocan. “The Mi'kmaq people are from a land beyond the setting sun. It is a very dangerous crossing to our homeland, and it is attempted only on rare occasions.”

“So the Teachers from Ireland didn't settle here with the Beothuck. They settled in the land of the Mi'kmaq. Is that what you are saying?”

“That is correct.”

“So you are a stranger to these people as well.”

Chocan smiled. “It felt just as strange to me as it did to you when, for the first time, I smeared red ochre over my entire body. But the ochre is such an integral part of their beliefs that without it, they would always consider me to be an outsider. And you do get used to it, even like it. Ochre is like a second skin to me now.”

Kiera looked off into the distance. “It sounds like the Beothuck are going through almost the same spiritual conflict as my Viking masters.”

“How so?” asked Chocan.

“The Vikings once believed in many different spirits, or gods, as well. There was a god for the sea, a god for thunder, a god for the dead, plus many others. But several generations ago, the message of the Teachers began to find a home within the hearts of some of the Vikings. Unlike here, where the people seem to be able to accept both beliefs, the Vikings have split themselves into two groups: those who believe in the One Great Spirit and those who hold onto the ancient faith of the many Norse gods.”

Chocan looked off as he thought about this information.

“Thank you for sharing your news with me, Kiera. It is good to know that the word of the Teachers is spreading among other nations, as well. Sometimes, I feel that our efforts in sharing the Teachers' words are largely in vain. Even in the Mi'kmaq nation, the numbers of believers are dwindling, and after old Atchak passes on to the next world, I am not confident that I will be able to maintain the seeds of faith within the Beothuck people. You can already see how the people continue to revere the shaman. Given the uphill battle, sometimes I feel like I should just give up.”

Kiera placed a comforting hand on his back. “But I don't think that is who you are, is it? I can't see you being the type of person to give up so easily. You certainly demonstrated patience when it came to me.”

Chocan smiled. “You are right. I can't stop. My faith, my beliefs are a part of me. I will continue my work, do what I can and leave the rest up to powers of the Great Spirit.”

The sky was darkening, and cold wind blew in from the northern hills. Kiera shivered. Chocan led her to the warmth of a nearby fire. Kiera looked around at the band members wrapping the fresh meat and cleaning up the few unwanted remains. Like the Vikings, the Beothuck didn't waste any part of the valuable carcass.

“So what happens now?”

“We will pack soon. It is time to move the band into the woods and prepare for winter. In fact, I need to return to the river and help store the canoes for next year.”

Chocan stood up to leave, but Kiera grabbed hold of his hand. “Thanks again for rescuing me yesterday.”

His rugged face glowed in the roaring flames as he smiled down at her. “You, Kiera, have also rescued me with your words of hope. I thank you as well.”

Their hands slowly, hesitantly, slid apart. Chocan gave her one last flash of a smile, then disappeared into the growing darkness.

K
iera examined the pile of icy brown vegetation. “Do you think this will be enough?”

Chocan threw the last slab of frozen moss onto the sledge and wiped his forehead with the back of his mitten. He was sweating despite the frigid weather. He stomped to the front of the sledge and grabbed the guiding poles.

“Let's go back and see.”

They left the dark cedar glade and walked silently through the glistening trees. Kiera's breath clouded the air and hung like an unfinished thought. She pulled her caribou cape across her chest as a winter breeze tried to worm its way through her layers. The cape had belonged to an older member of the band who had died just a winter ago.

The chatter of children could be heard before they arrived in the clearing that held their winter home. It was a brilliant location. The clearing was surrounded by a thick wall of evergreen forest that would protect their soon-to-be-constructed village from the worst of the bitter, winter winds. A small but deep creek gurgled along the edge of the clearing. It would provide the band with a source of drinking water. Near the centre of camp, several men were digging deep holes into the ground.

“What are they doing?” she asked.

“They are preparing the ground for the caribou meat. We will put the wrapped meat in the holes then cover the food with layers of dirt and rocks.”

“Why bury it?” she asked.

“There is simply too much meat to smoke. The frozen ground will keep it fresh. Putting the meat in the middle of camp will also help keep the scavenging animals at bay.”

They trudged around piles of wooden frames. Some sets were in the process of being erected. Kiera watched with fascination as the two tallest men in the village worked together, the oldest sitting on the shoulders of the younger. The man on top reached up, took hold of the longest vertical poles, and pulled them together into a set of graceful arches, where he lashed them into a tight hexagonal pattern with thick strips of leather. The mamateeks in the centre of the winter village were already complete. The sweet smell of cedar smoke trickled out through the top vents and drifted through the still air of the camp like an early morning fog.

Chocan and Kiera continued towards an unfinished mamateek. The upper half of the curved wooden frame stood naked against the bitter winter air, while the lower half was in various states of undress. Both children and adults scurried in and around the structure. Several children dragged large chunks of birch bark to the structure while the adults skillfully placed the pieces in a puzzle-like pattern, ensuring that the curved surface of their home was both wind and rainproof. Huritt saw their approach, greeted them and examined their load.

“I think you have enough to finish the job.”

“Good,” groaned Chocan, stretching his back.

“And there wasn't much moss left in the clearing, either,” added Kiera. “The pickings were getting a little thin.”

Shawnadit popped out of the mamateek and ran into Kiera's arms. Kiera flipped her upside down and tickled her until she squealed with laughter. As Kiera returned her to the ground, an older boy asked Shawnadit to fetch more birch bark. Giving Kiera one last hug, she skipped off merrily into the woods.

Kiera, Chocan and Huritt unloaded the moss from the sledge and passed the pieces up to the waiting hands that reached out through the top of the unfinished frame. The moss was then carefully placed on top of the layer of birch bark. Kiera knew that the moss would be used to help insulate the mamateek from the cold winter winds. In many ways, the winter mamateeks were similar to the low, sod-covered Viking longhouses.

“I think I need a drink of water.” Chocan's voice was rough and dry.

Kiera stretched her back. “I'll join you.”

Chocan grabbed two birch containers and led Kiera to the stream. As he knelt down in the snow and scooped up the water, Kiera stared into the quickly moving creek and thought of its journey. The stream would eventually join a river, which would lead to the coast and finally open itself up to the endless sea. The ocean. Even the gurgling laughter of the stream haunted her memories. There would be no better time. She had to tell him.

“Chocan?”

He looked up as he passed her a container of water.

“Yes?”

She stared at her reflection in the cup. “I have to go home.”

“Home?”

She hesitated. “To Ireland. To my family.”

He stared at her with his dark, penetrating eyes. “You are not happy here, with us?”

Kiera lowered her eyes in shame. How could she make him understand?

“Your family, your band, your people have welcomed me into their hearts. You and Sooleawaa have also saved my life several times. And for all of these things, I will always be truly grateful. But you need to understand, this is not my home. I need to go back.”

There was an awkward moment of silence.

“How?” he asked.

She sighed. “Unless you know of another way across the ocean, I will need to get back to the Viking village.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Return to your captors? How will that help you get home? You will only be forced to return to your duties as a slave.”

“They are my only way back, Chocan. They will soon leave this land. They do not have the warriors or the weapons to fight off the raiding Thule. Thorfinn will lead his people back east to the land of the Vikings, perhaps Greenland or Iceland. Although I will still be a slave, at least I will be another step closer to Ireland.”

Chocan turned away from her and looked off into the distance. “You truly believe that the Vikings will someday allow you to return home?”

“I know it's unlikely, perhaps impossible, but it is still my only glimmer of hope.”

Silence.

“When must you be back?”

Kiera tried to clear her dry throat. Was he disappointed? Of course he was. The bond that they had built between them was strong and real. She was choosing a life of slavery over a life of freedom with his people. Even with the fur coverings, she felt cold and hollow. She hadn't thought that telling Chocan would be so difficult.

“I think they will be leaving some time in the spring. They will need to get back to Greenland or Iceland by mid summer if they are to prepare shelters for the following winter.”

From his profile, Kiera could see Chocan frowning.

“Spring. It will be difficult. During the caribou hunt, I asked my fellow brothers from the north lands about your village. They have only heard about it through their Thule captives, the ones who have caused your masters so much trouble. The Thule have been a problem for us also. They have taken some of our northern lands by force. A war council was convened at the Meeting Place in order to plan for the removal of the intruders. Atchak and the other elders have decided that we will attack the Thule in the summer. To get you home before the Vikings leave, you will have to make your journey before then. You will have to cross Thule-held territory.”

Kiera shuddered, but she was able to maintain a strong voice. “I understand it might be dangerous.”

Chocan nodded. “Dangerous, yes, but perhaps still possible.”

“I understand the dangers. I will also do whatever it takes to trade for one of your canoes. If you would be kind enough to give me the directions back to the Vikings, I will leave at the earliest possible moment.”

Chocan shook his head, still facing away. “You cannot do it alone.”

“I have to try.”

He turned and faced her. “I will take you.”

“Chocan, you can't! You are a Teacher. You are needed by the band, by this whole nation! I can't ask you to do this.”

He stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “I want to do this.”

She tried to hold back the tears. “Are you sure?”

Chocan smiled. “We will have to wait for winter to pass, but yes, if it is your wish, then I will take you not to your home, but back to your Viking masters. There is a difference, you know.”

She embraced him warmly. “Yes, I know. And thank you.”