When Thomas returned to the quarters he found Francis still in the same position on the side of Richard’s bed. He crept over to him.
“How is he?” he asked, softly.
“He has not moved,” Francis said.
“Do you want me to watch him while you go to the party?” Thomas could see Richard’s breath was shallow.
“No. I will stay with him.” Francis wiped a tear from his eye. “It is the last thing I will be doing for him.”
Some of the men had begun to return to the room after the party. When they saw Francis sitting on Richard’s bed, they seemed to sense his grief. They quit their talking and laughing and quietly went to their beds.
The next morning, when Thomas awoke, Francis was huddled on the bed beside Richard and Richard was still and cold. A coffin was quickly built and his body wrapped in a blanket and set inside. The coffin was carried to a corner of the post where it would sit over the winter. When the ground thawed in the spring, Richard would be buried.
Two days later, Thomas turned sixteen.
Chapter 19
“We get our winter clothes today,” Jarvis said, as they prepared to go to the mess for breakfast.
“What winter clothes?” Thomas asked, still bundled in his blankets. A fire burned in the stove in the middle of the quarters, but Thomas’ bed was in a corner farthest away from the heat. Frost clung to the inside of the walls beside his bed and he hated to leave its warmth.
“The furs that will help to keep us warm this winter.”
Thomas climbed out of bed and grabbed his coat. He hurried over to the stove where he held it out to warm before putting it on. Some of the older men had taken to sleeping in their clothes and their coats. He now slept in his clothes and was thinking he would soon have to put his coat on as well.
It was Saturday morning, and after breakfast the men lined up outside the fur room where the winter garments were stored over the summer. The line moved slowly and Thomas shivered in the cold. When he received his pile of furs and skins, he followed Jarvis back to the quarters. He laid the various garments on the bed and stared at them.
“What am I supposed to do with them?”
“I will show you.”
Thomas watched as Jarvis picked up the deerskin pants and pulled them on over his breeches. He picked up his own and found they were lined with flannel.
“Between the flannel and skin are three layers of cut up blankets,” Jarvis explained. “It makes for stiff walking but they are warm.”
Thomas pulled them on over his own breeches and they covered his legs to his ankles. The coat was moose skin, with marten cuffs and cape. He shrugged into it and found it was not as heavy as he had thought. He was given moccasins to replace his shoes. When he tried to walk he found the going slow and clumsy, and he wondered if he looked like some mutant animal as the others did.
“What do I do with the rest?” Thomas waved at the remainder of the pile on his bed.
“What you have on is just your indoor wear. When you go outside, you put those on.”
Thomas had already decided he was not going out in the cold any more than he had to.
At noon the men received their ration of gin. Instead of refusing his share, Thomas handed it to Peter, something he had been doing for a week. He did not follow Peter when he took it to his hiding place at the cow pen. He had grown tired of babysitting the grown man, especially as there was no trouble the man could get into at the post.
Heavy gray clouds came from the north and the men around the card table talked about snow coming. They made bets on the hour and minute the first flakes would begin as they had been doing every time there was a cloud in the sky. When the winter snow finally began to fall in the early afternoon, bets were collected by the winners. The flakes hit the frozen ground and slowly piled on each other.
By supper time, Peter had not returned from hiding his liquor. Thomas went to look for him. Lately Peter seemed to have lost his sense of survival. He did not come in from the cold until he was almost frozen. Thomas wanted to find him before the snow hid his body from view.
With a little coaching from Jarvis, Thomas donned the rest of his winter wear. To his already bulky attire he placed a beaver skin on his head which hung down to protect his neck and shoulders and then wrapped two fox tails that had been sewn together around his neck. Another hide was added over the skins on his body. A soft tanned moose hide was wrapped around his moccasins for a winter boot. The outfit was cumbersome and he could barely walk.
When he got outside, he was surprised to see how much snow had collected on the ground. And the big fluffy flakes continued to fall. By the time he lumbered to the cow pen he was covered with snow.
He stood and listened. It was quiet, so very quiet. No one else was about. There were no noises; no birds, or footsteps, or voices, or sawing, or hammering, or any of the activities of the post during the day. Even the cows were still. The place was absolutely silent. He might have been the only person in the New World.
Thomas shook the snow off his skins as he looked for Peter. The darkness was softened by the white snow and he saw a mound by the cow fence. He plodded over to it, dropped clumsily to his knees and began digging. He found Peter slumped against a post near the cows, mindless of the gathering snow around him. Thomas called his name and when that did not wake him, shook him. Finally in anger, he grabbed him by the collar and dragged him towards the men’s quarters.
When he was close enough, he went in and got Jarvis to help him. They carried Peter to his bed and dropped him onto it. Thomas stepped closer to the stove as he removed his outerwear. The fire in the stove barely heated the area around it and because of the poor ventilation, smoke hung in the room. From where he stood he could watch the game of cards being played by the light of tallow candles set in tin scones. Luke sat in the game and he seemed to be the better player, winning most of the hands.
The snow fell softly all night. When Thomas stepped out of the quarters the next morning he was hit by a snowball. He looked over and saw Luke forming another. He picked up the heavy snow, packed it into a ball and threw it back. His aim was off and Luke laughed at him. Other men joined the fun and soon snowballs flew in every direction.
“Get in to breakfast,” Manchester yelled, effectively breaking up the first snowball fight of the season.
The men grumbled as they headed for the mess. “What does it matter to him when we eat,” Thomas heard one man say. “There is little to do now until spring.”
Thomas looked at Luke. “Is that right?”
“Basically. The hunters will occasionally go out in search of fresh meat since tracks show up better in the snow. The woodcutters will have to keep the piles up.”
“Why? We have three large piles.”
“They will not last long, plus the wood has to dry before it can be used in the stoves. That is why we must keep hauling it.”
“And that is all there is to do during the winter?”
“Yes. Life here will settle into a dreary routine of eating, sleeping, and trying to keep warm.”
* * *
Little Bird sat quietly near the fire in the teepee. She watched as Spotted Fawn sewed the edges of a deerskin blanket, a small deerskin blanket. This morning Spotted Fawn had told her, and their mother and grandmother, she was expecting a child.
Little Bird envied her. She, too, wanted to marry and have a family, but none of the boys in her tribe appealed to her. And after what her grandmother had gone through, she did not want to marry a white man. Thinking of her grandfather, she looked over at her grandmother. The old woman had shrunk over the past months. All she did during the day was mourn her husband. Little Bird was not even sure if she had understood what Spotted Fawn had told her.
Do I want to be like her in my old age? Little Bird wondered. Grieving for my white husband who has gone back to his country. She thought of Thomas. The times they had been together had been pleasant, and she did like him, but she did not know what h
is plans were. Did he want to stay here forever as White Paddler had promised to do, or would he leave when his time was up? Maybe he had a girlfriend waiting for him back home. Maybe he had asked her to marry him when he returned.
“When are you going to tell White Paddler?” Little Bird asked, to take her mind off Thomas.
“Today,” Spotted Fawn said.
“It is too bad your Grandfather will never know,” Moon Face said. She had a sad look on her face as she stirred the stew in the pot on the fire.
“It is too bad he will never know what?” White Paddler asked, as he entered the teepee.
Moon Face smiled at him, but did not answer.
He looked bewildered as he turned to Spotted Fawn. “What is your mother talking about?”
Spotted Fawn hesitated for a moment, and then with a shy smile she said. “I am going to have a baby.”
White Paddler stared at her then with a whoop picked her up and twirled her around. “When?”
“About the time the ice melts off the river.”
“May.”
White Paddler gently set Spotted Fawn down, as if suddenly afraid of her condition. Little Bird knew in the white man’s world when a woman was expecting a child she was treated very delicately. But in her world, a woman having a child was required to work just as hard as before and was given no special treatment.
“Have you told anyone else?”
Spotted Fawn looked over at Little Bird and Moon Face. “Just the ones in this teepee.”
“Then I have to spread the word. I will tell Thomas first. He will be excited about becoming an uncle.” Edward gave her another hug then hurried out.
“He seems pleased,” Moon Face said.
“Yes. I hope he really is,” Spotted Fawn said.
Little Bird saw her glance over at their grandmother.
* * *
Thomas looked up from his bed as White Paddler threw open the door and entered the men’s quarters. His eyes were gleaming and there was an air of excitement about him. He swaggered over to the bed under the watchful eye of everyone in the room. They could sense something was happening and they did not want to miss any of it.
White Paddler grinned down at Thomas and unable to control himself any longer shouted. “I am going to be a father.”
Thomas stared at him, then quickly jumped up and hugged him. “I am going to be an uncle,” he shouted back.
The other men surrounded White Paddler pounding him on the back and shaking his hand. One man offered him a drink from a bottle of gin he had been given as a ration. White Paddler accepted and drank heartily. He passed it to Thomas. Thomas hesitated, and then because it was a special occasion, he took his first drink since the brandy given out during the goose hunt. The flavor of the gin was harsh on his tongue and the liquor burned his throat and all the way down into his stomach. He coughed a couple of times and felt his back being pounded.
White Paddler asked Thomas to join him in his celebration. It was Saturday. He did not work in the stores tomorrow, so Thomas quickly put on his outer wear.
“We will go to the Factor’s quarters first,” White Paddler said.
“Are you sure we should?” Thomas hung back. “He does not like to be disturbed at night.”
But White Paddler dragged him on. “When Smith hears the news he will not imprison us for disturbing him.”
Thomas walked beside his brother.
“Now I am a man,” White Paddler said, as they crossed the yard. “Now I will have someone to teach, someone to take inland with me, someone to pass my dreams on to.”
Thomas felt another pang of envy. White Paddler’s life was now perfect. He had a wife and a child coming, and he had visited the vast land to the west. Thomas hoped his life here would be as good.
At the Factor’s quarters they were given a glass of his best brandy. White Paddler gulped his in one mouthful and Smith refilled it. Thomas sipped on his. Then they went to the officer’s quarters and received their congratulations. Thomas saw his brother stumble a little. It was cold, and he knew one of them should stay sober to make sure they both did not freeze. He began to refuse drinks after that. He would celebrate when the baby was born in the spring.
They were up all night. From the officer’s quarters, they went to the village. At each teepee White Paddler received slaps on the back and smoked a pipe with his friends. Thomas was introduced and warmly welcomed.
The sun was up in a bright-blue, cloudless sky when Thomas escorted White Paddler to his teepee. Spotted Fawn was waiting. White Paddler hugged her then with a sigh lay on his mat. Thomas smiled at Little Bird who stood watching. He was tired, but he did not want to go to sleep.
“Come outside,” he said.
She followed him. It was cold but the winds were calm. He would not keep her out too long. He just wanted to be with her. He held her hand as they walked between the teepees.
Chapter 20
On slow days when no one came to the store Wemple and Thomas did inventory. Wemple liked to keep track of the items in the stores and it also served to relieve the monotony of the days. Thomas was given the task of counting while the assistant clerk wrote the figures. As he reached a total Thomas called the figure out.
“Blankets 315.”
“Kettles 274.”
“Powder Horns 156.”
Hour after hour his voice droned on as he counted knives, hats, spoons, needles, guns, and the dozens of other items kept to trade with the Indians. It was so boring.
But today would be different. Today was one of the days the Indians were allowed to come and trade. Thomas looked forward to these days. He hurried to the stores after breakfast to help Wemple get ready.
“They are crafty and you have to watch them all the time.” Wemple repeated the warning he always gave then opened the door and ushered in the first five Indians.
While Wemple served them Thomas watched the natives, not so much because of what they might take, but because they fascinated him. He admired their straight figures and their ability to withstand the cold with half the clothing the white man wore. He envied them their freedom. They hunted for food and trapped animals to trade for whatever else they needed. Money, and having to work for it, meant nothing to them. They had no time schedule. He understood why Edward preferred their way of life.
Little Bird and Spotted Fawn entered with the third group Wemple let in. Little Bird looked over at Thomas and smiled shyly. Thomas returned the smile and was about to speak when Wemple said.
“Do you have more moccasins for me?”
Little Bird set the sack she carried on the counter. Wemple removed the moccasins, checked them over and told her how much she was allowed in trade goods.
Thomas went over to her. “May I help you?”
He saw Spotted Fawn smile at her sister and walk away. Little Bird nodded at Thomas.
“I need a kettle, beans, and two fish hooks.”
“What do you need fish hooks for in the winter?”
“Until the ice gets too thick on the bay and the snow too deep, we cut holes in the ice and fish through them. Have you never done that?”
Thomas shook his head. “No. We bought our fish from the fishing boats.”
“Would you like to try it?”
“Yes.” He did not know what it involved, but he did know he wanted to spend time with her.
He led her to the shelf with the kettles and took down one. He put two fish hooks in it and the beans.
“And some tobacco for my grandmother,” Little Bird said.
“How is your grandmother?”
“Better. Ever since she found out that Spotted Fawn is having a baby she has begun to live again. She says she still has work to do teaching the little one the ways of our people.”
“I am glad.”
Thomas carried the goods to the counter and waited for Wemple to weigh the beans. When he had agreed the goods were equivalent to the value of the moccasins, Thomas walked Little Bird to the door.
<
br /> “If you want to try fishing through the ice, I will be going onto the bay tomorrow.”
“That is Saturday. I would like to go with you.”
Little Bird nodded. “I will be here after the noon meal.”
* * *
When Thomas finished work at noon on Saturday he headed for a quick meal and then put on his outer wear. As he donned the heavy skins he wished he had the stamina of the Indians and was able to survive the cold with less covering. He went to wait by the gate for Little Bird.
When she came she was carrying the hooks, some line, a blanket, and an axe. Thomas took the blanket and axe from her and they walked down to the bay. Ice heaves stood up against the blue sky. They climbed one and looked out over the frozen bay. For as far as they could see it was white from the snow.
Thomas followed Little Bird down the other side. They found holes that had been cut in the ice and were now frozen over again.
“We will try this one,” Little Bird said. She set the hooks and line on the snow-covered ice beside the hole.
Thomas put the blanket with them. From the jagged edges around the holes, Thomas understood what the axe was for. He lifted the axe in his hand and chopped at the hole. The ice was thick and it took a while before he penetrated the bottom. The hole immediately filled with water.
“Good,” Little Bird said. She knotted the hooks to the line and lay down on the ice. She dropped her hook down the hole.
Thomas followed suit and was soon lying beside her. He looked through the hole but could see nothing. Little Bird reached for the blanket and pulled it over their heads.
“Look now,” she said.
It was dim under the covering and when Thomas peered down the hole he could see the water beneath. As he watched a fish swam into view and then was gone again.
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