by Sue Harrison
“Yes.”
She said nothing more, only reached out quickly to squeeze Shuganan’s arm and then jumped from the ulaq and walked down to the beach.
Shuganan watched her as she dug coals from the banked fires and started the flames again with knots of dry grass and chips of driftwood. But his eyes were mostly on the sea, waiting to see if Kayugh would return. If he would bring his people with him.
Kayugh thrust his paddle into the water and his ikyak pulled ahead of Gray Bird’s. He studied the cliff to his right. Yes. It was the one, the high east cliff of Shuganan s beach.
“Here!” he called, waving his paddle in a wide arc over his head, then turned the ikyak into the cove.
He saw Shuganan hurrying down the beach, and he saw the whale carcass, now only bones. Within the arch of the ribs, gulls scolded and fought for scraps of meat.
Kayugh maneuvered his ikyak around the rocks that dotted the cove, and as he neared the beach, he untied his hatch covering, jumped into the shallow water and pulled the ikyak ashore.
Shuganan was waiting for him and greeted him with palms up. Then Big Teeth was beside Kayugh. He also greeted Shuganan, and the two helped Gray Bird from his ikyak and the women and children from their ik.
Chagak stayed at the rendering pit. Kayugh wished he could take his son to her, could pull the child from Blue Shell’s suk, run up the beach and ask Chagak to feed him. With each day, as the baby came closer to death, Kayugh felt his own strength leaving. The power drained from his arms and legs as if the baby’s pain were changing Kayugh into an old man.
This for my selfishness, Kayugh thought as he watched Chagak work. But when he had decided to keep the child, it seemed too much to pile another sorrow upon the loss of two wives and so many of his people. The pain was already so intense that Kayugh wondered at times if something within his chest was broken and bleeding, making his arms and legs heavy, his belly refuse food.
But the slow waiting, the hoping seemed worse. And his pain was made more intense by some spirit whispering, “He is better. Do you not see that he is a little fatter? Did you see that he opened his eyes, that his cry was louder?” So Kayugh could not trust himself and knew the truth only by seeing the sorrow in Crooked Nose’s eyes, the fear in Blue Shell’s.
Caught within his thoughts, Kayugh did not notice that Gray Bird stood beside him until the man said, “You did not tell us she was beautiful.”
“Would that have made your choice to come easier?” Kayugh asked.
“I thought you came only to save your son.”
“I chose to come here because it is a good beach.”
“Then you do not care if I decide to take a second wife,” Gray Bird said.
Anger filled Kayugh’s chest. It pushed up into his neck and pulled against the tendons of his arms so that his fists clenched. “Who will hunt to feed her?” he asked, the taunt thrust at Gray Bird like a knife.
But before Gray Bird could answer, Shuganan was suddenly between them.
The old man held his shoulders straight, and his eyes were snapping as though there were coals buried in their dark centers. “I offer you the hospitality of my ulaq and my beach, and already you argue over my granddaughter.”
“She needs a husband,” Gray Bird said and stepped closer to Shuganan.
“I will decide when she needs a husband,” Shuganan said, his words soft but strong enough to carry to the women and children unpacking the ik.
Kayugh waited for Gray Bird to reply, but the man said nothing, and finally Big Teeth came over and shoved Gray Bird toward the ik.
“Your wife needs help,” he said and Gray Bird backed slowly away.
“No one will take your granddaughter as wife unless you and she agree to the marriage,” Kayugh said. “We will leave if you wish.”
But before Shuganan could answer, Big Teeth said, “Kayugh seems to make small concession for Gray Bird’s rudeness, but he offers more than you know.”
Kayugh clasped Big Teeth’s arm. “A man’s problems are his own,” he said quietly.
But Big Teeth said, “When we are old, our people will need new hunters.”
“Perhaps Blue Shell carries a son,” Kayugh answered.
Big Teeth smiled slowly. “Perhaps, but perhaps he will hunt like his father.”
“Gray Bird hunts.”
“I do not like lemming meat.”
Then, turning to Shuganan, Big Teeth said, “Kayugh’s wife died in childbirth and his son has no woman to nurse him. All we ask is that your granddaughter share her milk. Not that she be wife.”
“It is something she must decide,” Shuganan said. “But when you have finished unloading your boats, you can bring your things to my ulaq and I will ask her.”
Chagak lifted another hot stone with her willow tongs and dropped it into the pit. She tried to work as though no one else were on the beach, as though she did not see Shuganan with the men and women from Kayugh’s village.
But now, led by Shuganan, they were walking past her to the ulaq, the men carrying their harpoons and spears, women loaded with packs of meat, bedding and grass mats.
There were two children: a boy of perhaps eight summers with a sealskin bag thrown over one shoulder, and a girl, surely no more than three summers, dragging a grass mat.
The adults did not look at Chagak, as was the custom of politeness, but the boy stared as he passed and leaned to look into the rendering pit.
The girl lifted her hand and pointed at Chagak with one tiny finger. She stopped, as if to speak, but then stuck the finger in her mouth and hurried to catch up with the others.
Chagak stood on her toes to watch the people as they entered Shuganan’s ulaq. She wished she could be there to tell them where to put their things, to see that food and bedding were properly stored, but she continued with her work.
She used a sharpened stick of green willow to pull out the kreng—brown bits of crackling left after the fat was rendered. She piled it on a sealskin to cool. Later she would cut it into strips to use for fish bait.
She was lifting the last piece of kreng from the pit when she saw Shuganan climb from the ulaq. Kayugh and the other two men were with him. Chagak dropped her head so they would not see her watching them.
She gathered the sealskin up over the mound of crackling and pushed down with the palms of her hands, moving in a circle around the skin, pushing as she moved.
She pulled the bundle close to the edge of the pit and flipped down one side of the sealskin so the oil she had forced from the kreng ran into a basket.
As she laid the sealskin out flat again, exposing the kreng to the wind to cool, she realized that Shuganan and the three men were beside her.
“My granddaughter, Chagak,” Shuganan said to the men, and then to her, “You know Kayugh. These are men from his village. Big Teeth and Gray Bird.”
Chagak wiped her hands on her suk and stood up.
Big Teeth was a man of long arms and legs. It seemed as if the arms of his birdskin parka were as long as the parka itself. His face skin was dark, with lighter lines running from the corners of his eyes, and his hair poked in all directions. He smiled at her, showing a row of long white teeth that protruded from between his lips even when his mouth was closed, but there was a goodness in his smile that made Chagak feel at ease.
The other man, Gray Bird, did not smile. His lips were flat against his teeth like an otter’s lips when it is angry. A clump of hair dangled from his chin, hair no thicker than seal whiskers, dark and hanging to the front of his parka. It seemed that he narrowed his eyes purposely; his forehead lined and wrinkled with the effort. He was smaller than Kayugh and Big Teeth but stood with his chest thrust out as though by his own will he could increase his stature.
He was the first to speak and he spoke without polite comment on weather or Chagak’s work. “We want to see your son.”
Chagak wrapped her arms over the front of her suk, holding the baby close to her.
“He is asleep,” sh
e said, though she could feel the pull of his mouth against her nipple, the working of his hands against her skin.
But then Big Teeth spoke as if Gray Bird had said nothing, as if the man were not even beside them. “We have traveled many days. Our women are tired. Your grandfather has given them shelter in his ulaq. When they have rested, they will come and help you skim the fat from the boiling pit.”
And though these words were also not the usual talk of meeting—polite words about weather and the sea—at least there was caring in the man’s voice.
“It will be good to have help,” Chagak answered.
“Kayugh has a baby son, too, Chagak,” Shuganan said.
“I am happy for you,” Chagak said to Kayugh, but as soon as she had spoken, she saw the pain in the man’s eyes, and it reached out to pull at the sorrow Chagak had held within herself since she lost her people.
“Is the baby sick?” she asked, forgetting she should not speak until spoken to.
But Kayugh did not seem to notice. He took a step toward her and said, “My wife died after the birth, and I chose to keep the baby with me. But none of our women have milk to nurse him.”
Chagak pulled her son from the warmth of her suk and held him out for Kayugh to see. The child was naked except for the tanned hide that wrapped his buttocks. His legs and arms jerked in the cold and he began to cry.
“He is a good strong son,” Kayugh said.
“All babies would seem strong compared to your son,” said Gray Bird, but he did not look at Kayugh as he spoke.
“Where is your son?” Chagak asked.
“In the ulaq,” Kayugh said. “Blue Shell, Gray Bird’s wife, carries him.”
Chagak nodded, and then, as though there were no one on the beach but herself and Kayugh, she raised her suk and cupped her left breast in her hand. She pressed her nipple, squirting milk in a thin stream for Kayugh to see. Then she slipped Samiq into his carrying strap, poked the nipple into his mouth, and prodded his cheek until she felt him suck.
Chagak lowered her suk and smoothed it over her son. “I have enough milk for two,” she said to Kayugh. “I will nurse your son.”
THIRTY-THREE
WHEN CHAGAK ENTERED THE ULAQ, it seemed as though it were a different place. Seal stomach storage containers were set in heaps at the bottom of the climbing log; new water skins hung from the rafters. Stacks of furs filled the extra sleeping place and overflowed into the main room.
But though Chagak had expected to hear the babble of the women, they were silent. For a moment she stood on the climbing log, staring at them as they stared at her.
They were sitting in the center of the ulaq, their backs to each other, faces toward the shelves that held Shuganan’s carvings. One woman, her nose large and humped, held the little girl on her lap. The boy sat beside them. Another woman, round-faced and plump, sat looking at the ground, her dark hair pulled back and tied, but it was the smallest woman who held Chagak’s eyes. She had a bulge under her suk.
Blue Shell, Gray Bird’s wife, Chagak thought, and then heard the spirit voice of some sea otter say, “She is beautiful, that woman.”
Yes, Chagak thought. Anyone would find pleasure in seeing Blue Shell’s tiny nose and wide eyes, her small, full lips. Chagak touched her own face and wondered if anyone found pleasure in seeing her.
At first Chagak did not want to speak. She wanted to go quickly to her sleeping place, to close the curtain between herself and the women, but she had told Kayugh that she would nurse his son, and even now the men watched the rendering pit so she could come here.
Finally Chagak said, “Shuganan’s carvings do not carry evil spirits. You do not need to fear them and soon you will be used to their eyes watching.”
And it was as though Chagak’s words had given the women life. The big-nosed woman spoke quietly to the others and then all three began unrolling grass mats and pulling food from storage bags.
It seemed as though the big-nosed woman led the others and so Chagak went to her and showed her the storage cache. She pulled back the curtains and tied them so the women could put their food inside.
“I am Crooked Nose,” the woman said. Then she gestured toward the little girl straddling her hip. “This is Red Berry, Kayugh’s daughter.”
“I am glad you have come, Red Berry,” Chagak said, but the girl hid her face against Crooked Nose’s suk.
“The boy is also Kayugh’s?” Chagak asked.
“No,” said Crooked Nose, “First Snow is my son. But Kayugh does have a son. Blue Shell carries him. He is very sick.”
Her words trailed off and Chagak said, “Kayugh told me about this son.”
Blue Shell looked up from her work. “He is very weak,” she said, “and I do not have any milk. My husband is not happy that I carry the child. He says it might curse our own children to weakness.”
“I have milk,” Chagak said, but Blue Shell’s words made Chagak uneasy. Could Kayugh’s son make sickness come to Samiq? But then the sea otter whispered again, “You told Kayugh you would feed the child.”
Blue Shell lifted her suk and pulled the baby from his carrying sling.
At first Chagak’s eyes were on Blue Shell’s belly. The woman was pregnant, soon to deliver, but then Chagak saw the infant. He looked like a tiny old man, his eyes and belly too big for his shriveled arms and legs. How long had he been without food?
Blue Shell unfastened his carrying sling and unwrapped a packet she had at her side. She took out clean fur and skins to pad the strap.
Blue Shell handed the strap to Chagak. Samiq’s strap was over Chagak’s right shoulder, so she fastened the other strap over her left. She laid Kayugh’s son in the strap and poked her left nipple into his mouth, prodding his cheek anxiously until finally she felt a small tug. The baby’s eyes opened as though he were amazed that his sucking had filled his mouth, and he sucked again, holding himself to her breast with both hands.
Blue Shell went back to the center of the ulaq and sat down beside Crooked Nose. They began to talk, voices low so Chagak could not hear what they were saying. Suddenly she felt uncomfortable and alone, as though she were the one who was visiting this ulaq.
The women laughed, and even the shy one lifted her head. Chagak felt a sudden dread that they were talking about her, so she turned away from them and watched Kayugh’s child nurse. He was not strong enough to suckle continuously, but sucked and then let the nipple pop from his mouth, searching with eyes closed until he found the nipple again, sucking, taking a breath, sucking.
Chagak lowered her suk, covering the tiny child. She glanced up at the women and saw that Blue Shell was looking at her. Chagak saw relief in her eyes, but it seemed that Blue Shell’s relief was Chagak’s burden.
The otter spirit whispered, “The child will die.”
“No,” Chagak said, so quickly that she had a sudden vision of the otter sliding from shore into the sea, the animal turning its back on Chagak’s rudeness. And Chagak could not help but think the otter was right. The baby had not even cried when Blue Shell took him naked from her warm suk. A child without the strength to cry. Could he live?
Chagak kept her hand inside her suk, gently moving the baby’s head whenever he stopped nursing, and she moved her hand now and again to Samiq, checking that his arms and legs remained fat and strong, checking that Kayugh’s son did not suck the strength from her son as he was sucking milk from Chagak’s breast.
She kept her head lowered, so did not see Blue Shell beside her until the young woman asked, “Does he suck?”
The question startled Chagak and her gasp of surprise made Blue Shell giggle. But Chagak could think of no reason to smile, her ulaq full of strange women, a dying baby at her breast. Why had Shuganan agreed to let these people stay?
But Blue Shell did not know her thoughts and began to babble about rendering whale blubber and storing meat.
Chagak did not want the women to work at her rendering pit, to help her with the meat. It was her work and
she had done it the way she thought best. She had made the decisions and now did not want others to change what she had done.
But then the sea otter said, “You have been away from your village too long. What woman turns down help? You are letting the men help now. Why not the women? They know more about rendering pits than men.”
So Chagak tried to listen to Blue Shell with a kinder spirit, tried to smile as the woman talked, but she did not truly hear what Blue Shell said until she began to speak about Kayugh. Then, for some reason, Chagak was interested, and she asked, “Gray Bird, your husband, is Kayugh’s brother?”
“No,” Blue Shell answered. “Kayugh’s father and mother came to our village before he was born. They were Walrus People. The father had come to our village to trade. He liked us, so brought his wife and stayed.”
Chagak had heard her father tell of trading with the Walrus Men. A good people, he had said, given to laughter, a tall, light-skinned people who trained animals called dogs to pull loads and protect their camps. And Chagak could not hold back her words, a foolish question, the question of a child: “Does he have a dog?”
Blue Shell laughed. “No, but he is a great hunter, surpassing all. He would have been the next leader if he had stayed in our village. But there was no choice. The sea rises and our island grows smaller each year. Kayugh says that someday everyone will have to leave. But our journey, until we found this place, has not been a good one, especially for Kayugh.”
“Yes,” said Chagak. “He told me his wife died after giving birth.”
“She bled after the baby was born,” Blue Shell said. “She did not tell us she was bleeding so badly.
“And before that, Kayugh’s first wife also died. She drowned when we were gathering limpets. Kayugh went after her, but when he brought her to the shore, she was already dead. She was old, wife to another before Kayugh, but Kayugh took her as first wife, giving her honor, although she did not honor him with a child.”
Chagak felt Kayugh’s son lose his grip on her breast and was filled with the sudden fear that he was dead. She glanced inside her suk, saw that milk bubbled from the baby’s mouth. He was asleep. She raised her eyes to Blue Shell and said, “He sleeps. Do you want to hold him now?”