Whispers of Winter

by Tracie Peterson

  The day after the birthday celebration, a large number of the villagers packed up their tents and supplies and migrated to the north. Many birds and ducks had been sighted, and the promise of eggs and meat other than seal and dried salmon beckoned. Leah had gone on several of these bird-hunting excursions and had been amazed at the proficiency some women had with a bow and arrow. In fact, she remembered a time when Qavlunaq had been just a girl of eleven and had wanted to prove to her father that she was capable of hunting as well as her brothers. She accompanied her family as they hunted and managed to climb onto a ridge where she waited for the geese. As they flew by she took her bow and arrow and shot the largest of the birds. Her father had been quite proud of her that day. Leah still pictured the little girl grinning proudly and holding up her goose. Now that girl was a grown woman with a child of her own and another on the way.

  Two days after the first group of villagers headed off, another group prepared to go. John and Oopick were among those who planned to leave. A part of Leah wanted to take the children and follow along for the sake of company and something to do, if nothing else. But the hope of Jayce and Jacob being rescued and returning to Last Chance kept her in place. After all, what if they came home to an empty village, with no one and nothing to celebrate their survival?

  The day dawned bright and clear, but by nine o’clock a heavy sea fog rolled in without warning. One minute Leah could see across the open sea, and the next she couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of her. She was used to these fogs but hated them nevertheless. They were terrifying out on the open trail. Once when she and Jacob were returning from Nome, a fog came in fast and thick. Jacob had been wise enough to hold up and wait out the fog despite his knowledge of the trail, but Leah would never forget the isolated feeling of not being able to see. She kept expecting someone to reach out through the fog and grab them. Jacob, sensing her fear, had told her stories of Colorado and their childhood. Stories Leah had forgotten.

  “The fog is bad,” Oopick said, entering Leah’s house unannounced. The village was like a large extended family, and no place was considered closed to them.

  “Will you still go today?” Leah asked, pouring Oopick a cup of tea.

  “John says we can wait until tomorrow. He sees it as God telling him to take more time.” The older woman smiled.

  “I’m glad you’ll be here at least another day,” Leah admitted. Oopick took the tea. “It’s not too late. You can come with us. You could return early.”

  Leah weighed the suggestion. “No. I wouldn’t want them to come back and not have me here to greet them.”

  Oopick lowered her gaze. “It could be months, Leah. Maybe until the ice comes again. You … well …” She took a long drink from the cup as if to silence herself.

  “Oopick, you speak the truth, and that’s never wrong. I’ve thought of the possibility that they won’t be found until late in the summer … maybe not even then.” Leah had to force the words. “Still, I want to stay. There will be a few of the oldest people here, and they may need my help. Plus, Emma and her family will be here. I just feel like it’s the right thing to do.”

  “What’s the right thing to do?” Helaina questioned, coming from the back room.

  “Staying here instead of going north with everyone else.”

  Helaina exchanged a look with Oopick. “I think she’s right. We’ll be fine.”

  “I have a lot of good seal meat thanks to John and Kimik, and soon the salmon will run in full. I’ll venture out to catch as many of them as we can get from the river,” Leah promised. “You’ll see. I’ll have the drying racks full before you even get back.”

  Oopick smiled. “You always work hard. I know you will do as you’ve said, but we’ll see who brings home more fish.”

  Leah grinned. “That sounds like a challenge. I accept.” She knew Oopick and the other women would gather far more fish, but it didn’t matter. She liked the lighthearted banter; it helped to put her mind on other things. “Besides, it won’t be long and you’ll be back. Don’t forget we’ll have a lot of berry picking come next month.”

  “We’ll have good pemmican,” Oopick said, nodding.

  “Jelly and jam too,” Leah added. “I’ve ordered extra sugar for just such things.”

  “John will like that. He thinks that’s a good treat. He likes to spread jelly on the salmon sometimes.” Oopick laughed. “I tell him he better be careful or he’ll turn into a white man.”

  Leah had never known a white man to put jelly on salmon, but she laughed nevertheless. So did Helaina, who quickly added, “I’ve never tried that, but maybe I will. Sometimes even the best food gets old.”

  “John says we’ll come back to check and see if you have news.” Oopick finished her tea and handed Leah the cup as she turned to go. “He wants to know about Jacob. I want to know too.”

  Leah nodded. They all felt the misery of not knowing the men’s fate. John had been worried enough to consider a trip north on his own; it hadn’t been that long ago that he had said he might put together a search party. Leah had almost encouraged it, figuring that somehow—some way—she, too, would go on the search. But then reality set in, and Leah knew it wasn’t wise for either of them to try such a thing. There was no way for them to be sure where the Regina had ended up, and they might only find themselves stranded in similar fashion. And, of course, there were the children.

  Leah knew she could never leave them that long. It was one thing to make a trip to Nome—that was quite far enough when facing a separation from the children she loved. Considering that a search team could easily spend all summer looking for the missing ship, Leah knew the role of rescuer did not belong to her.

  Helaina had agreed, encouraging Leah to trust the government to go after them. She had further stressed that should the ongoing war in Europe keep the government from searching, her brother, Stanley, would arrange a private search out of Seattle or San Francisco. Helaina’s healthy bank account could afford such a venture. This comforted Leah to some extent.

  The fog cleared around two o’clock, presenting a beautiful landscape that looked as if it had been freshly washed. Leah decided to leave her napping children with Helaina while she went to gather some herbs on the mushy tundra hillside not far from their home. To her surprise, she found a ship docked out in the deep water. There were already launches heading into shore. She held her breath and watched—hoping, praying that Jayce and Jacob might be among the men coming to Last Chance.

  Shielding her eyes against the light, Leah studied the forms as they drew closer. No one looked familiar, and given the way some of the men were holding up bottles, Leah knew her husband and brother would not be among their numbers. These were whalers who unfortunately added to their business ventures by selling whiskey to any native who would buy it. Leah turned away in disgust. She hoped Emma’s husband, Bjorn, would dissuade the remaining village men from giving in to the temptation. Furthermore, she hoped he would encourage the whalers to move on.

  Leah lost track of time as she searched through the vegetation. There were a great many plants that were useful to the village’s medicinal needs. Leah often found that natives who were Christians sought her out to help with particularly bad cases. Others, who held no use for the white man’s faith, went to their shaman. Ayoona had once told Leah that such superstitions were difficult to let go of when you had been taught all of your life that they were true. She told Leah to think of how hard it would be for her and Jacob, should someone come declaring that Christianity was wrong—that everything they’d learned all of their lives was nothing more than a collection of stories perpetuated by a group of people who were ignorant to the truth.

  This single statement, perhaps more than anything else, had taught Leah great patience and tolerance in living with the Inupiat. She often remembered Ayoona’s words and knew that it would be quite impossible for her to accept any other beliefs as truth. Why should it not be equally as hard for the natives of Alaska? Emma and
Bjorn had agreed with such thoughts and told Leah that living an example of Jesus’ love was the best way to encourage the people to believe. When the natives saw the hope and joy that the whites had in life— especially in adversity—they would become curious and seek answers. This had proved true over and over.

  Realizing that she needed to get back to the twins, Leah gathered her sacks and started back down the hill. She had no idea what the time was but figured it was probably late in the afternoon. With the summer in nearly continual sun, it was always hard to gauge the time.

  Leah heard her stomach rumble and was glad to know that she’d left a stew simmering on the stove before heading to her gathering task. She hoped that it would be an appropriate time to set a supper table and enjoy her efforts.

  Leah reached her small catalogue house, smiling as she imagined Jayce’s reaction when he set eyes on the place for the first time. The house seemed quite out of place in the village. Except for Emma’s house, everything else was built partially underground in Inupiat fashion. The Kincaid house was a pleasant enough sight, but it did stick out as a rather strange anomaly on the seacoast. She knew Jayce would like it, but even this would pale in light of seeing his children.

  His children. The old thoughts trickled back to haunt her. Are Wills and Merry truly Jayce’s flesh and blood? Why can’t I just let this go? Why can’t I just be glad for what I have and stop worrying about the past? She shuddered and pushed the memories aside. There was nothing positive to be gained by remembering those terrible things. There was nothing good to be had in asking questions for which she could not give conclusive answers.

  Wills and Merry were Jayce’s children. That was all there was to it. Leah would not think of it any other way.

  A ruckus on the beach drew her attention even as Leah climbed the steps that led to her home. A sudden chill rushed through her body. She set the sacks down on the step and felt herself inexplicably drawn to the sounds of men fighting.

  Reaching the community building, Leah could see that several of the natives were drunk. These were good men—she knew them well, but liquor had clouded their senses. They were angrily raging at each other, and one man was waving a gun. She knew this wouldn’t end well; someone would no doubt get hurt. The whalers with their liquor appeared to be nowhere in sight.

  “Put down the rifle,” John commanded as he stepped toward the man.

  “He stole my axe,” the man declared.

  “He tried to take my wife,” a man named Charlie replied. “I’m going to give his axe back—right in his gut.”

  “I didn’t want your ugly woman,” the man shouted in Inupiat.

  Leah felt someone at her side and turned to find Oopick. They could only stand and watch the situation play out. Some of the other native men joined in commenting on the situation, some taking Charlie’s side, others taking the side of the armed man.

  “You got to put the rifle down, Daniel,” John demanded. “Somebody’s gonna get hurt.”

  Then, as if John’s words were prophetic, the rifle went off with a loud cracking sound. Everyone fell silent as Charlie grabbed his stomach and sank to his knees. He looked up, then collapsed on the sand.

  Leah put her hand to her mouth. To witness this awful affair, a situation that might never have come about but for the whiskey, was more than she could fathom.

  “That’s enough. Give me the rifle.”

  “You’re gonna kill me.” Daniel’s eyes were wild with fear.

  John shook his head. “No. I’m gonna take you and hold you until the Bear shows up. When those government officials come, then I’ll turn you over to them.”

  Leah shook her head. There was no telling how long it would be before the revenue cutter returned. Charlie’s family would return to the village for revenge. This could be counted on.

  “I won’t go,” the man said, leveling the rifle again. Before anyone could do anything the man began backing away. “I won’t go.”

  John approached him, matching each of the man’s steps in equal pacing. “Come on, Daniel. You know it’s the way.”

  “I can’t. I won’t.” He backed up another step and stopped. “You go on now, John, or I’ll … well … I’ll have to shoot you.”

  John shook his head. “Don’t do it, Daniel. They’ll see you dead if you do.”

  “They’ll see me dead anyway.”

  John reached for the barrel but had no time to push it away before the gun fired. Leah screamed and Oopick went running. The bullet hit John in the stomach. The big man didn’t fall immediately; instead, he seemed to contemplate the situation as several men rushed Daniel and wrestled him to the ground. Oopick reached her husband’s side just as his body seemed to register what had happened.

  Leah was just paces behind Oopick. She’d thought at first that maybe John hadn’t been struck, but when he fell to the ground she screamed, “No!”

  Oopick knelt beside her husband, pulling at his clothes to see how bad the wound was and exactly where it was located. Leah helped her, forgetting the others around them.

  The wound, located just six inches in from John’s left side, bled profusely. Leah pulled off her kuspuk and pressed the soft cotton cloth against John’s abdomen. “We need to get him home,” she said, looking up. “Is anybody sober enough to help?” Her tone held great anger.

  “We can help,” several men announced in unison. They came forward to await instruction.

  “We need to be careful with him,” Leah commanded. “One of you will need to hold this cloth to the wound while the others carry him. Can you do that?”

  The men nodded and Leah stood. Oopick was sobbing uncontrollably, reluctant to leave her husband’s side. Kimik, her son, appeared and helped the men lift his father as Leah took hold of Oopick.

  “Come on. There will be time for tears later,” Leah encouraged. “Right now John needs us both.” Oopick looked into Leah’s eyes as if trying to comprehend her words.

  Leah knew the next few moments would be critical. “Oopick, John needs us to keep him alive. Come along—we have work to do.”

  Chapter Six

  The ice is melted enough,” first mate Elmer Warrick declared. “I see no reason for us to sit here and wait for a rescue that might never come.”

  Jacob shook his head. “It’s very risky to consider heading out, not having any idea of where we are.”

  “We have a good idea that we’re close to the Russian Territories,” Dr. Ripley replied. “Not only that, but as the crew’s physician, I have to interject my opinion on the matter. We all have scurvy in various stages. Our diet is so imbalanced that most of us are dying of malnutrition. Not to mention that the captain has developed trouble with his heart and Bristol is sporting three toes that we’re going to have to remove tonight or see him dead in a week.”

  “We’re all dying?” Matt questioned. He cast a quick glance at Jacob, as if to ascertain the doctor’s truthfulness.

  Ripley shrugged. “If not exactly, then we soon are to be. Our bodies need a balance of vegetables and fruits. Foods that are obviously missing from our diet. Exposure to the elements is another issue entirely.”

  “But to head out without any idea of where we’re going,” Jacob began, “is risking death as much, if not more, than staying here.”

  “I agree with Jacob,” Jayce said, looking to each of the men. “We have shelter here and enough food for the time being. I propose a compromise: Rather than just sit here indefinitely, what if we agree to remain here until July tenth? That will still give us plenty of time to head out and risk the open water.”

  The men considered this for a moment while Jacob posed a question. “Dr. Ripley, since you are concerned about the issues of our health, would this be an acceptable compromise to your way of thinking?”

  Ripley rubbed his bearded chin. “That’s not much more than a month. I suppose it would be acceptable. Although I will say that every day we wait, we grow weaker from our lack of proper nutrition.”

  �
��I agree,” Jacob said, nodding. “Captain Latimore is a very sick man, even now. I know Ben and Travis are suffering a great deal as well.” Those two hadn’t been themselves since developing a bronchial infection two months back. “It’s not my desire to keep any of us here a moment longer than needed. You must understand me on this point, if nothing else. I desire to be home as much as anyone here. I won’t keep us here any longer than necessary. You have my word on this.”

  The men met his earnest gaze and one by one nodded in agreement of his words. Jacob knew their longing for home was strong—as was his own. He wanted nothing more than to wake up in his own bed and be among friends and family. The crew needed to see that he was just as connected to this goal as they were.

  “Very well. We shall stay here until July tenth. If rescue hasn’t come by that time,” Jacob announced, “we will set out on our own.”

  He walked away from the group, feeling a mixed sense of frustration and relief. He was glad that Jayce had suggested the compromise but worried about what would happen if no one found them by the tenth of July.

  “I hope you didn’t mind my suggestion back there.” Jayce came alongside Jacob and matched his stride. “I wasn’t trying to usurp your authority.”

  “I’m glad you thought of it, Jayce. Someone had to come up with something to calm them down.” Jacob stopped and looked back at the waters of the Bering. There was still ice here and there. A great many floes dotted the otherwise tranquil waters.

  “They just don’t know what they’re asking for. I’ve been out there in an umiak when the village was hunting whale. It isn’t easy even when you have healthy, experienced men who know the lay of the land and the currents. These are men whose bodies have been compromised by the elements and lack of proper food. They are weak, and their minds are not as clear as they need to be.” Jacob turned back to Jayce. “None of our minds are working as well as they should. I found myself struggling with a column of figures this morning that normally would have been easy to add.”