Red Indian The Beginning by Terry Foss

Author:Terry Foss
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Terry Foss
Published: 2017-07-09T00:00:00+00:00

Mokodihutt sat in the back of the boat. He took deep breaths, filling his lungs with the salty air. He liked the taste of the drops of spray on his lips. He was excited. He had never been away from home like this before. He listened to the conversation of the villagers. They had lived in the village long enough that his family had learned the language, in fact, now they used it much more than their own.

Just before they rounded the point, he took one last look over his shoulder at the lonely of his mother standing on the beach. He could see his father farther back, next to the mamateek. His brother was nowhere to be seen. Probably inside, he supposed. He hated to be out in the cold.

Mokodihutt wanted to wave but he didn’t want the others in the boat to think he was still a boy. He turned back and stared ahead, swallowing hard to fight the sadness that sought to overwhelm him. The only sound, other than the low conversation, was the occasional snapping of the sail in the light breeze and the waves lapping up against the edge of the pack ice and the sides of the small wooden boat. It was peaceful and there was little to do other than watch the land slowly crawl past.

Much of it was still blanketed in snow and ice, but here and there the ragged face of the cliffs was visible where the ice had fallen away, tumbling into the cold water below. Short barren trees could be seen at the top, pushing their bare limbs through the snow, reaching toward the sun that would soon restore their covering of leaves. The land looked lonely and deserted from this viewpoint. He wondered why his father had picked this place to live. He pulled his fur hood a little tighter around his face.

By late afternoon they found themselves in a field of thicker pack ice and had to take the sail down to slow their speed, for fear of hitting one of the ice pans. As darkness approached, the land disappeared behind them and they found a large floating ice pan to pull the boat up on for the night.

They made a small fire to warm their food, ate mostly in silence, and then huddled together underneath the sail on the leeward side of the boat. Soon the only sound Mokodihutt could hear was the whistle of the night wind occasionally accompanied by the snores from his fellow travelers.

He was still too excited about this trip to sleep. He thought of his family he had left back at the village. He wondered how his mother was doing. She was probably staring at the ceiling of the mamateek right now, too worried to sleep. He wondered about his little brother. He never seemed to be well, always fighting a cold or something else. It wasn’t a good place for him to be living.

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