Totem Lost
Page 17
“We have a deal,” he said. “The demon promises they will leave tomorrow before dark. He wants us to stay for a farewell feast and I accepted.”
With that, my last hope for leaving quickly vanished. The rain quit and the whitefaces brought out strange foods. We tasted sweet liquids and salty meats and fish. I didn’t think they were very good.
Then the demon handed us thick, white drinking bowls with convenient handles on their sides. After the salty food, I was thirsty and ready for a drink. I held mine out and the demon filled it half-full of an odd-smelling liquid. Then he poured some in Killer Whale Rider’s bowl. He put more in a bowl for himself, tipped his head back, drank the liquid right down, and smacked his lips. We drank ours the same way. My first thought was that I had been poisoned and was going to die. My mouth burned, my throat burned, and it felt like a hot coal had exploded in my stomach.
I had a coughing fit, but after I caught my breath, the most amazing thing happened. My head began to swim and I had trouble focussing my eyes, but I didn’t care. I loved the crazy way that magic drink was making me feel. I wanted more. I smiled at the demon and held out my bowl. He smiled and filled it again. My husband was grinning foolishly at me as his bowl was being filled. We gulped our refills right down. After I emptied that bowl full, I can only recall parts of what happened during the rest of that awful day.
I do have a clear memory of being in a big room inside the canoe. Daylight was streaming in through holes in the hull covered with a clear substance. Father had described clear ice-that-does-not-melt in his journal, but I had never seen such a thing. I couldn’t resist putting my hand on that amazing ice and was surprised when it wasn’t cold like real ice.
While I was touching the ice, the yellow-haired demon was touching me. I started to remove his hand from my hip, but stopped when he pulled the plug from a full container of the magic drink with his teeth and held it out to me.
I took the slippery thing with both hands, tipped it back, and gulped down a big drink. He put his hand between my thighs when I was drinking, but I didn’t try to stop him. As long as he kept on sharing the magic drink with me, I didn’t care where he touched me.
I lowered the bottle and he looked me in the eyes. They had changed. His eyes were now very dark—proof that he was a demon. Only a demon could change the colour of his eyes. I was sure that his magic drink had bewitched me. He reached out and stroked my hair with both hands. Then he pulled my head close to his. He kissed me and forced his entire tongue into my mouth. When I write about it now, I can’t believe I allowed him to do that, but, at that moment, it felt right. We kissed some more and I put my tongue in his mouth.
I wanted more of the magic drink and took another big swig. Then I closed my eyes and let his hands explore my body. I was amazed when I actually enjoyed having the demon touch me! He kissed me again then took the bottle from me and put it on a table next to us. I don’t remember when he removed my cloak, but I was naked when he laid me down on a sort of rough sleeping robe.
Since I was still under the spell of his magic drink, I didn’t try to resist when he pushed his manhood into me. He may have been a demon, but he felt like a man. After he moved a few times, I put my arms around him and held him close. I was surprised that having him take me could be so exciting. I recalled the gifts the girls had shown us on the deck and wondered how many shiny beads I would get for laying with him. I forgot about that when I got caught up in the sex and helped him pleasure us both. When he finished, he kissed me some more, gave me another drink, and then he left, taking my sea otter cloak with him. The half-full bottle of magic drink was next to me on the table, so I didn’t care about the cloak.
I decided I should check on Killer Whale Rider, but first I needed to close my eyes and rest before I could get up. The next thing I knew, another whiteface was kissing and fondling me. He was naked below the waist and it was obvious he wanted me too, so I kissed him back. After I sat up and took another drink, I let him have me. He was enthusiastic but gentle and I enjoyed him, too.
After he finished, he gave me a gift. It was a strange short garment with sleeves and odd little fastenings down the front. I put it on to please him and he seemed to enjoy fitting it over my breasts. While he got dressed, I finished the bottle.
After that, I followed him back on deck where the whitefaces gave me more magic drink. What happened to me during the rest of that day is mostly gone from my memory and that is probably a good thing. I can recall watching Killer Whale Rider arm wrestling with some of the whitefaces. Whenever he won, they gave him more of the magic drink. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep and then quite a few whitefaces took turns having sex with me, but I didn’t care because they kept on giving me more magic drink.
Our misadventure came to an end when the whitefaces dumped my unconscious husband, who was wearing his new blue cloak, into our canoe. I was nearly naked. The only thing I had on was the garment the nice man gave me and it almost covered my rear end. I had quite a few hands touching me as they helped me into the canoe. Just before I pushed off to paddle back to the village, my gentle lover handed me two more bottles of the magic drink.
I don’t think we would have made it back to Howkan on our own because we were barely out of sight of the whiteface canoe when Killer Whale Rider awoke. When he saw the bottles of magic drink, he insisted we open one. We took turns drinking from it while we drifted with the tide. Pearl Shell Woman said we were close to being caught in the breakers on the rocky coast when she found us just before dark. After seeing the state we were in, she towed us back to Howkan. I must have been unconscious because I have no memory of reaching the village.
April 8, 1795: When I awoke, dawn was breaking and I was sure I was dying. I felt like someone was pounding on my head, using it like a box drum. I was so sick I thought my stomach was coming out of my mouth. When I looked at Killer Whale Rider, I felt sorry for him. He had vomited all down the front of his new blue cloak and could only moan when I asked how he was doing.
Pearl Shell Woman made no secret of how appalled she was by our appearance. We attempted to explain what had happened to us, but she made it plain she didn’t believe us when we told her that it was a magic drink that had reduced us to stumbling fools.
Killer Whale Rider went out to our canoe, found the second bottle of magic drink, and brought it back inside. He opened it and poured a generous amount into a drinking box. Just the smell of that evil potion made me gag and I could see he shared my disgust. He held the box out to Pearl Shell Woman.
“Drink this and then you’ll understand.” She took the box, tipped it back and drained it. We could see that she too was stunned by the burning sensation. She coughed several times, blinked her eyes, and rubbed her stomach.
“Have some more,” Killer Whale Rider said, pouring her another generous portion. She gulped it down and smacked her lips.
“I see now,” she said with a lop-sided smile. “This is big medicine.”
Then we watched our dear friend turn into a silly fool. She stood up and nearly fell before lurching into a couple of clumsy dance steps. She sat down abruptly and broke into a nonsense song.
He was still holding the bottle when he and I exchanged glances. “Did I act that foolishly yesterday?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t remember what either of us did. Get rid of that stuff.” I was aware that what I told him wasn’t true, but I was afraid of what he might do if he knew that I had been used by most of the whiteface crew. I also didn’t want him to know that I hadn’t cared what they were doing to me as long as they kept giving me more of that vile magic drink.
Without another word, he emptied the bottle into the gravel around the fire pit. A few drops fell on the fire and we were astonished to see a bluish flame leap up.
“Why did you do that?” demanded Pearl Shell Woman. “I really like that magic drink.”
“
That stuff is whiteface poison,” I said. “It stole our souls and we became creatures that are nothing like our true selves.”
“I’m just fine,” she said, “I’m my true self. Watch.” She got up and tried to spin around but sat down hard and began giggling. “Just fine,” she said, and began to snore.
Memories of what had happened to me on the whiteface canoe kept surfacing in my mind, adding to the rage building within me. Skull Breaker had violated me and with that act he destroyed himself, so I hadn’t needed to take further revenge on him. The situation with the yellow-haired demon was different. He must pay for what he and his men had done to me and I had a plan. I was sure I could get close to him again. This time there wouldn’t be any sex; this time I would cut his throat. Sky Shaker had assured me that his death would have the added benefit of ending my awful eagle dream. It was time to share my plan with my husband.
“I know what I must do,” I said as we sipped some healing tea I had brewed. “It’s apparent that the yellow-haired demon is their headman. In my dream, he always shoots me, but what Sky Shaker told me long ago was that to make that dream go away I must kill him. If I can do that, I’m sure both my dream and the whiteface canoe will go away.”
“You’re scaring me. The demon told me they plan to leave tomorrow. Can’t we just let them go?”
“I want the dream to stop and killing the demon is the way to make that happen.”
“Killing him won’t be easy. His men are all armed with fire-sticks. How do you propose to get close enough to kill him?”
“Just follow my lead,” I said. “I’ll think of a way.” He didn’t need to know that the demon had already had sex with me and I was sure he would be eager to lay with me again.
“What can I do to help?” he asked.
“This time we’ll take an entire canoe full of furs and you can keep the other whitefaces occupied trading while I kill the demon. After I do that, you can help me escape.”
“I wish we could kill them all. Those creatures are evil. Just look at what their magic drink does to us,” he said, gesturing at the comatose Pearl Shell Woman who was lying in a puddle of vomit.
“I wish we could kill them all too, but they are too many and too well-armed. We’ll just have to settle for killing the demon.”
We spent the rest of the day preparing to put our plan into action. I went around the village gathering up furs and discovered we weren’t the only ones who had been introduced to the magic drink and its vile after-effects. Others were ready to join us and help kill the whitefaces, but I insisted this was a job I must do alone. Pearl Shell Woman cried when I gave her my old ivory clasped hands hair ornament with instructions to give it to my daughter if I didn’t return.
That night after Killer Whale Rider went to bed, I sharpened the iron knife that I carry in a sheath hanging around my neck on a thong. When I finished honing it, I tested its edge. It was so keen I cut a slice off a tough old piece of moose hide with a single stroke.
I had another task to complete. My father had told me that other whitefaces would be able to read what we wrote. So, I got a clean piece of doeskin and using my best writing skills I wrote this message to leave behind after I killed the demon:
WHITEFACES KNOW THIS: My proud people will resist your attempts to take our furs, rape our women, or steal our land. I have cut the throat of this evil demon just as we will kill any whiteface guilty of these crimes.
After I finished writing that warning, I sat lost in my thoughts. I had abandoned becoming a shaman. By disobeying my father and his spirits, I had exposed Killer Whale Rider and the villagers to the whitefaces’ corrupting ways. I had to atone for disregarding the careful plans Father described in my legacy letter for warning the people about the dangers the whitefaces posed for our people and how to resist them. If I succeeded in killing the leader of the whiteface canoe and leaving my message behind, that would be my belated best attempt to strike a blow and protect our people. My risky act of violence would hopefully cause the whitefaces to flee from our land and not return, but I was not optimistic. Father had warned that whitefaces were greedy and persistent.
My decision to commit this murder is one I might not survive, so I must say my fare-wells and write a few words in the journal for Killer Whale Rider and our children before I set out to kill the demon.
My Dearest Killer Whale Rider,
I write these words with a heavy heart. We have had a wonderful life together and I cherish every moment of it, but our happiness has a price. It seems my life has come full circle. I have failed to pursue the life of a shaman and warn our people of the danger from whitefaces and now they are here in our land. My father’s warning has come true and I must try my best to deal with this peril. If I should be called to the spirit world while doing this, you must help our children become leaders. Tell Sea Abraham and Sky Abraham that they are our best hope for the future of our people. You must prepare them to deal with whatever may come to pass.
I wouldn’t want you to live alone if I depart. Find a new wife and have more children. Keep the journal and continue our story. I must close this message and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be challenging. Please know that you have always been the love of my life.
Your devoted wife, Abraham’s Copper Spirit
Epilogue
25 August, 1960: Because I had to reassemble a number of damaged scratch pads from the bottom of the box, translation was a slow process, but by the summer break in June, I had a sinking feeling. As the pile of little bark leaves in the old box dwindled, the ones left couldn’t possibly finish telling her story. After translating her last entries, which described her terrible experience on the ship and her plan to kill the captain, her journal abruptly ended. In the Prologue I wrote that I wondered what had gone wrong with Abraham’s plan for having his daughter warn our people about the white invasion. I was afraid I now knew the answer to that question. Circumstances had conspired against Abraham’s Copper Spirit and kept her from completing his plan. I was certain her final desperate attempt to kill the whiteface captain aboard his ship full of armed men was doomed to fail.
What had become of Abraham’s Copper Spirit after she set her murderous plan in motion? When I put the last few leaves in order, the answer to that question wasn’t there. By now, I was familiar with his handwriting, so I knew Killer Whale Rider wrote those final entries. Unfortunately, not only were the leaves damaged, the faded handwriting was mostly illegible. I could make out just enough to tell he was trying to describe a shocking event. I couldn’t help but suspect the worst.
I still had the water-damaged bound journal I had found in the Angoon box, but the museum people said that because of its seriously deteriorated condition they would have to send it to specialists in New York to retrieve its contents. Neither the museum nor I could afford that. The journal would have to wait.
I decided to approach this problem from a different direction.. I went back through Abraham’s Copper Spirit’s journal entries that described her first sight of the whiteface ship. I found the entry where she had written the name of the ship—Eurydice—on a canoe paddle. I researched a mythology text and discovered that according to the Greeks, Eurydice had been killed by the bite of a viper. Had Abraham’s Copper Spirit suffered a similar fate?
Our librarian at Sheldon Jackson learned that the Peabody Museum in Salem, Massachusetts held a number of ship’s logs from New England vessels engaged in the Northwest Coast fur trade. I was thrilled when she confirmed that the museum held two logs from the brig Eurydice. They were both from the year 1795, the year the ship was on the fateful trading trip that encountered Abraham’s Copper Spirit and our people.
When the librarian requested an inter-library loan, she was informed that the logs had only recently been converted from the original handwritten script to typed format. They were ready for typesetting and printing in book form, but budget constraints made the timing
for that next step uncertain.
The Peabody Museum afforded us two options. First, I could travel all the way across the country to Salem to view and copy the logs. Second, if I covered the cost of mimeographing and shipment, they would send us copies. Even as eager as I was to deal with this mystery, the school year was coming up, and I had responsibilities. I couldn’t take the time, not to mention the expense, to travel there.
The cost of the second option was fifty-four dollars. I raided my savings account and mailed off a money order. I hope the logs will reveal what happened to Abraham’s Copper Spirit.
David Abraham
Sitka, Alaska
August 25, 1960
Copyright
Totem Lost
Copyright © 2017 by James Hadman
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover Art:
“Pacific Intentions: A visit to the Hope at Cumshewa’s.”
A watercolor, copyright 1998 by Mark Myers RSMA, F/ASMA
Tellwell Talent
www.tellwell.ca
ISBN
978-1-77302-489-9 (Hardcover)
978-1-77302-488-2 (Paperback)
978-1-77302-490-5 (eBook)