The Nor'Wester by Starr David;

Author:Starr, David;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ronsdale Press

Chapter 21

Thick clouds turn the late December skies above Fort St. James black. A strange metallic tang in the air sits right on the tip of my tongue as Quesnel and I walk through the crisp air towards the lake. “You can taste it, can’t you?” says Quesnel. “The snow I mean. It’s on its way and it’ll be a big storm. We could be indoors for days, so let’s get as much water as we can. When the blizzard hits, you won’t be able to see two feet in front of your face.”

We break the thin skin of ice that covers the surface of the lake near the shore to fill our water buckets. It’s easy enough now to break through, but in a matter of weeks it will be thick enough to walk on.

A blast of cold air brings the snow. The first few flakes are small, hardly noticeable as we work, but within minutes larger ones fall thickly. “Hurry Duncan,” Quesnel says. “We’d best get back to the cabin.”

The storm hits with a fury that confines us to our cabin for two days. With the wind shrieking night and day, we live in a state of near darkness, the only light we have coming from our candles and the small fireplace.

By the afternoon of the second day the storm has blown itself out, the sun shines and, eager to shake the cobwebs from my head, I pull the door open. When I do, a small avalanche of snow slides into the cabin, followed by an intense bright light.

“Best not to be too long out there,” says John Stuart, looking up from his book. “It’s cold this morning.”

“I just need to get out fer a little while.” I have trouble finding the words to describe my restlessness. I feel edgy, as if the walls of the small log cabin are closing in on me.

“You’re getting cabin fever,” says Quesnel.

I’ve not heard the term before, but after my experience on the Sylph, I’m wary about illness. “Is it contagious?” I ask.

“Yes, but cabin fever’s not a disease, it’s a state of mind. When you’re confined to quarters for an extended period of time, you can go a little funny. Some really do go insane. Stretch your legs if you want, but be careful; you may be a little tired of Stuart and me, but spending time with us is a far better option than freezing to death.”

Outside, it seems as if the entire world has been whitewashed. There is still open water on the lake but it’s now quite a distance farther out from shore. The air is bitterly cold, and I stamp my feet in an effort to stay warm, the snow crunching loudly beneath me, breaking the silence of the morning.

I walk down to the frozen shores of the lake. My lungs burn as I suck in the frigid air, breath rising in a steam when I exhale. It’s colder than I’ve known before in all my seventeen years and the sensation fascinates me.

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