The Great Death by John Smelcer

Author:John Smelcer
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466872189
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

Hwlazaan

(Ten)

“My husband died in a hunting accident,” she replied, her voice trembling in fear. “I have been outcast to wander the wilderness with my three small boys. We are cold and hungry and lost, and I fear that we will not survive long.”

THE TARP SAGGED so low from the night’s snowfall that Maura couldn’t even sit upright without her head touching it. She pushed aside the door flap, which was no more than two ends of the tarp brought together and held in place by stones. Almost a foot of snow lay on the ground, dead-white and pillowed, the load bending double the thin willows and alders. The heavy snow muffled even the silence.

The low sun was as pale as a seagull egg or a river stone.

Maura sighed as she retreated to her sleeping place, her body searching for the warmth left there. She could see her breath, and her hands were already cold. Winter had come to stay. It would not leave again until spring, six months away. The rest of their journey would be hard going, slower, less certain. From now on there would be thin ice, overflow, snowdrifts and blizzards, and worst of all, occasional days of punishing cold.

Although neither girl had spoken and Millie had not moved, Maura knew that her sister was awake. “Millie, do we have enough clothes to keep us warm when the winter really sets in?”

Millie turned over, toward her sister. “I think so. At least we don’t have to carry the mukluks and parkas. We can wear them. I’m sure we can stay warm during the day while we’re walking. Nighttime will be the hard part.”

“We’ll have to sleep in our parkas, won’t we?” Maura was imagining how it would feel to sleep with no cabin, no roof, no protection but a tarp above them in the knife-edge cold of winter.

“And we’ll have to keep a fire going,” Millie answered. “We’ll have to be sure to tend the fire.” She wanted to sound confident for her little sister, but she, too, imagined the coming cold, the deeper snow, the freezing of the world.

As the morning sun struggled above the rim of the hills, Maura got up and built a small fire with the remaining pieces of dry spruce. While the inside of the drooping makeshift tent warmed, the girls ate what remained of the roasted porcupine, which wasn’t much. A few small bites each. The dogs stared and drooled and begged, but there wasn’t enough to share with them. The meager portions did not even lessen the girls’ hunger.

Millie and Maura thought about food as they put on their winter clothing and packed camp, shaking snow from the tarp before folding it. They hoped to kill another porcupine soon. The dogs searched the nearby woods, perhaps similarly hoping to corner one again.

Although the northland was now buried in winter, the graveled edge of the river was exposed. Delicate sheets of paper-thin ice formed like spiderwebs along the water’s edge. As winter

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