Ascopo and I whispered thanks to the tree spirits, and then broke off twigs until our arms were full. We carried the small branches back to camp, where we piled them up carefully to one side of the fire. “Tomorrow one of the men will set these up to dry while the rest of us are fishing, and in a few days, whenever the leaves are fully dry, we will pick them off and place them in a basket to take back with us. When we return to the village, Roncommock will prepare the leaves to make the black drink,” Tetszo told us. We felt honored to be involved in the important task.
It was interesting to learn about the black drink, but I really wanted to fish. The gear was unloaded, the fire was burning inside a rock ring, and some of the men were off collecting fresh water. As Ascopo and I finished our task, Keetrauk called out impatiently, “What’s keeping you? Chaham and I have the boat ready to fish!” We needed no additional encouragement, but ran immediately to the boat.
Ascopo asked, “What about my brother?” Chaham replied, “He works with the other boat. He has a lot to learn, just like you, and we can’t have all the untested fishermen in a single boat.” Ascopo seemed relieved and pointed to the funny-looking spears that we carried with us.
“Do we use these to fish?” he asked. Instead of the normal stone spear point joined to the wooden shaft, these two spears bore a trident of sharpened, fire-hardened wooden points that formed dangerous-looking spikes.
“Yep. These are the fishing tridents,” Chaham said.
We also carried a fire in the canoe with us. Now that surprised me. How could we carry fire in a wooden canoe? It was an ingenious method. After starting the fire on shore, the men transferred coals to a shallow clay pot. They wedged the pot in the canoe with rocks around and underneath it, and we carried reeds and small sticks to keep the fire burning. That became the task to which Ascopo and I were assigned, to tend the fire in the canoe while one man steered and two men speared fish.
“When will we get to fish?” Ascopo asked, somewhat impatiently.
“Soon enough, Ascopo. Be patient. Someone must attend the fire just as someone else must steer the canoe and yet another spears the fish. You will perform all three tasks as you become an experienced fisherman,” Tetszo said.
We glided swiftly out into the sound and as soon as we were a few canoe-lengths from shore, we turned and began to move parallel to the shore. Chaham and Keetrauk, bearing tridents, stood up in the front of the canoe, one facing to each side. Tetszo, the paddler, moved to the very back of the canoe. Ascopo and I sat in the center, one on each side of the fire. It was still daylight, but the sun was getting low in the sky. We fished so that it shone from behind us; we faced away from its glare.
Before the canoe had even balanced from all the shifting of positions of the men, Keetrauk lifted his spear high and, with a shout, plunged it forcefully into the water. Tetszo, who was paddling, backed the canoe slightly as Keetrauk, in a single, swift, arching movement, lifted the spear with its impaled struggling fish from the water, and in the same continuous motion, swung the spear inboard to slip the struggling fish into the basket near my feet.
I looked down into the basket and saw a pashockshin, a flounder, flattened from side to side, its two eyes on the same side of its head looking up angrily at me. Ascopo stood up and leaned way over so that he could see too, tilting the canoe, and Keetrauk snapped at him, “Hey, watch it back there. I am trying to fish here!”
Ascopo sat back down, but not before jabbing his finger into the fish’s body. It snapped its small, toothy jaws and flopped around in the basket, trying to jump free, and Ascopo jerked his finger back out of the basket. “A pashockshin,” he said proudly, as if he’d caught the fish himself.
Chaham, the other fisherman, gave a grunt as he too thrust a spear into the water. He landed a huge crab, a seékanauk. The enormous round crab had a long spiky tail, which it kept trying to use to turn itself back over. Ascopo was laughing at its antics as it frantically tried to gain purchase to right itself, but just continued sliding around in the smooth canoe. When it was upside down, its ten long legs, each with small pincers on the end, grasped helplessly at the air. Its mouth set forward of the first pair of legs and was mostly just a grinding plate. After the legs ended, a short section of abdomen supported flapping gills, which looked like thick leaves stacked up in a row, and then the heavy, spiky tail protruded from the back end of the animal.
“Is there any meat on this animal to eat?” Ascopo asked.
Chaham replied, “Not enough to bother with, but this one has such a long tail that it will make a good spear point.”
“Then maybe we can use its tail to spear more seékanauk!” Ascopo suggested.
I peered over the side and realized we were in very clear and shallow water, which is how the men were able to see and spear the fish. I thought the men used the light from the fire in order to see, but realized that the low sun, soon to be followed by a nearly full moon, cast enough light to see by.
“What is this fire for?” I asked of anyone in general. “Do you need it to see?”
“It lures in the bait fish, which attract the big pashockshin. Sometimes we get chigwusso, too.” Chaham paused, and with a satisfied grunt, said, “Like that!” as he dropped a big, reddish fish into the basket. It was an attractive, coppery-red color, with two large black spots near its tail.
Gingerly, I leaned over so that I could see over the side of the canoe. The water was clear, and I could see all the way to the bottom. A few small fish darted away as the canoe passed them. A jelly with long streamers drifted past, then another just like it, except it was the color of freshly crushed grape juice instead of plain white.
“What are those jellies? Do they sting?”
“You have many questions, Skyco!” Tetszo said. “But that is, after all, why you are here. The jellies are called sea nettles because they sting like the nettle plants on land do.”
He paused, then added, “Watch also for sea plums, or comb jellies. They too are jellies, but lack long tentacles and do not sting. The sea plums are worth a close look in strong daylight. As they swim and turn, they glint with the colors of the rainbow in stripes along their oval bodies.” Now Ascopo was leaning over, too, trying to see the jellies.
“Why are some of the sea nettles red and some white?”
“Now you have asked a question that I cannot answer,” Tetszo said.
“I think the red ones have eaten something that makes them red,” Chaham said from up front.
“You mean you think they are animals instead of flowers or fruits of the sea?” Tetszo said with surprise.
“That blob right there is an animal?” Ascopo said as he pointed to one of the jellies in the water.
“That is what I think,” Chaham said firmly.
“Hmmph,” was all Tetszo replied, making me believe that he disagreed, but did not want to argue further with Chaham. Were these creatures animals or plants? I thought more and more about that question while we continued to fish. I definitely saw one move, contracting slowly like a disembodied heart, but it had no eye, no mouth, nothing that seemed to make it an animal. Yet plants did not move, did not contract. The problem intrigued me.
Soon we were back at the landing place, guided by the light from the moon and the fire on shore. The men who’d stayed at the fishing camp had already constructed a high grill over the fire. They filleted the big fish and laid them up on the high grill to smoke and dry slowly. We also had a normal-height grill ready for the smaller fish, and we ate those hungrily. Ascopo grabbed a small croaker off the grill while it was still smoking and switched the hot fish rapidly from hand-to-hand as he pulled out the fins. Not one to fall behind, his brother Kaiauk grabbed one too, and though I was sure it burned his fingers, he never let on that it did.
“This new canoe is a good one,” Tetszo said. “Old Memeo selected the right tree. You know, boys,” he continued, “even when a tree ag
rees to become a canoe, sometimes it changes its mind in the water and dumps out the paddler and the fishermen when they try to spear fish. It is a good sign that this canoe barely budged as we speared fish and shifted our positions. It is definitely happy to be a fishing canoe.”
I felt good about how I’d helped to build the canoe, and glad that the fishermen agreed that it was a good one.
“We should get some sleep. Tomorrow we will set the weirs near the inlet, where the waters of the land meet the endless water of the sea. It will be hard work.”
Ascopo, Kaiauk, and I walked up the short path to the camp’s sleeping quarters under the spreading boughs of a huge, live oak tree. It was no protection from rain, but its leaves would keep the morning dew from forming on our bodies. We lay down in sandy depressions that other fisherman must have used. Ascopo and I lay close together and relived the day of fishing, but Kaiauk moved further away, closer to where the older men settled down.
“We caught lots of pashockshin and chigwusso, Skyco. Do you suppose they will let us try our hand at spearing the fish tomorrow?” Ascopo whispered to me.
“I sure hope so. Tetszo said something about fixing the weir, too. I want to see how that works,” I replied. “But don’t forget that we speared seékanauk, too. We don’t want to offend them.”
“You are so careful about offending the spirits, always thinking about them. That was the first thing you asked me when we were building the canoe. Why do you think about spirits all the time?” Ascopo paused, but when I didn’t answer, he went on, “I wonder what those pashockshin look like when they are buried in the sand. Did you hear Chaham say how they could be hard to see when they buried in like that? I hope we get a really big one.”
I started to feel sleepy. As I looked up from my warm, sandy nest, the stars shone through the branches of the oak tree. “What did you think about those jellies? Do you think they are plants or animals?” I asked him.
“Oh, they just float in the water like plants. Must be plants since they don’t have mouths.”
“I am not so sure of that, Ascopo. I think Chaham might be right. I think they are eating something that makes them red. Otherwise why are some red and some white?”
“Well, aren’t flowers different colors, too? Some flowers even start out pink and then fade to white. Now I am sure they must be flowers of the sea. The white ones are just fading in color.”
“If so, then where are the plants they come from?” I asked him. “You never see flowers that are not connected to a plant. Besides, they contract and move, unlike any plant I know of.” That shut him up.
“You boys quit talking and get to sleep,” one of the men called out.
“I sure hope we get one of those big pashockshin. Don’t you think they’ll let us fish? Surely we will be allowed to fish when we are on a fishing expedition.” Ascopo couldn’t be quiet for long.
“You know, Tetszo, if you’d just tell them what they are doing tomorrow, I bet they would be quiet and let us get some sleep!” Keetrauk called out.
“Right,” I heard Tetszo grunt. “Tomorrow the boys go with us first thing in the morning to fix the weir out near the ocean’s inlet. In the afternoon, they can try their hands at spearing fish.”
“Now hush, Ascopo,” Keetrauk said.
“Yeah, Ascopo. Do what you are told,” Kaiauk added, just to let Ascopo know he was still his older brother even if out here they were on equal footing.
I fell asleep to the sound of katydids and grasshoppers, but just as I fell asleep, I remembered fly-traps. They were green plants, but they moved.
I Am Almost Eaten
Next to the day when I was almost shot by that arrow, the worst day of my life was when I was almost eaten. The sky was dark when I awoke, but I felt refreshed and no longer sleepy. Dawn must be close, I thought. I punched Ascopo on the shoulder to awaken him, and he was alert almost instantly.
“Why did you let me sleep so long?” he asked peevishly.
My feet knew the path to the riverbank where we launched and stored the canoes the evening before. We sat down on an overturned canoe and waited. Soon, I heard the soft footfalls of others traveling the path. Both Tetszo and Keetrauk appeared, emerging into the faint light of the riverbank from the dark forest.
I was surprised to see that when we rolled one of the canoes upright, the head and attached backbone of a big chigwusso from last night’s feast had been stored beneath it. Only now did I realize that yesterday another canoe, not ours, had brought in such an enormous fish.
“Why is that carcass here?” I exclaimed with some astonishment.
“We keep the big ones to trap blue crabs. Look at all the flesh left on the head of this chigwusso! It should attract enough blue crabs to fill a basket with them. Really, we should have cooked the head in a stew pot over the fire, but instead of eating the meat ourselves, we’ll use it to catch crabs and eat those instead. Did you remember to bring the rope, Keetrauk?”
“Yes, sure I did. You don’t think I would forget basic fishing equipment, do you, brother?”
The men dragged down a smaller canoe from high up in the marsh, placing the fish carcass, some thin rope, and some thicker rope into the midsection.
“We are taking this smaller, faster canoe today, boys. You’ll be back in the big one a little later.” Keetrauk voiced what was on my mind before I got to it. “Don’t worry, Ascopo and Skyco, you’ll get to fish from the big canoe later, but first we want to repair the weir and this small canoe will get us there much faster.”
“We’ll need some strong reeds and stakes to repair the weir, too, brother,” Keetrauk said as he rummaged around in the canoe.
“I left them over at the edge of the woods yesterday. Go look for the bundle, Skyco, while I load the canoe with the rest of the gear.” Tetszo pointed toward the woods in a rather general manner and I wondered if I would be able to find the parcel. “Run along. Look for a pile of sticks all bundled together and tied with a rope. You should stumble across it.”
Stumble I did, ramming my foot right into the bunch, and skinning up the top of my big toe. I couldn’t see the dark mass of sticks against the slightly darker trees when there was still barely any light in the sky. I hobbled back with the bundle, afraid to complain about my sore toe. When we had more light, I would check for a splinter. It hurt enough that I thought there might be a splinter of wood under the skin.
Tetszo and Keetrauk pushed the canoe to the water’s edge. “Hop in, boys. Today we visit the sandy banks.”
“Will we come back here or stay there?” I asked.
“Depends on the weather. We’ll see,” Keetrauk replied.
Ascopo and I climbed into the middle of the canoe. It was smaller and shallower than the big one we had helped to build. It held the gear and all four of us comfortably, but any more would make it crowded.
“Where did this small canoe come from? We had only big canoes with us.” I couldn’t help but ask because I knew this small canoe wasn’t with us on the journey. Did I miss something?
“We leave this canoe here, high up on the shore where the water can’t reach it. Out here we often want speed, not a lot of room for fish. The big canoes are necessary for carrying men and fish back to the village, but this little girl here is for getting somewhere quickly. The weir will certainly need repair and we don’t expect to catch any fish today.” Keetrauk spoke from the front of the canoe where he sat already positioned with his paddle.
“Unless there is something so big it can’t escape,” Tetszo rejoined from behind as he pushed us out into deeper water.
“Sure, sure. Giant fish. Ha-ha,” his brother said as Tetszo jumped carefully aboard without spilling us. I hadn’t seen him add the basket for crabs until now, when he abruptly pushed it toward me, explaining, “Need a little more room for my feet back here.”
“Those big feet get in the way of everyth
ing. Maybe you could wiggle your toes to attract the crabs and get those feet nipped back down to size, Tetszo!”
Soon they pulled with strong strokes, leaving no more breath for jokes. We skimmed across the surface, almost flying. The water was flat and clear. The horizon was pink and orange, but the sun was not yet visible. It was beautiful out on the vast but calm water, and we moved so quickly that the wind was blowing Keetrauk’s hair on the longer, left side.
We rounded a point and Keetrauk cried, “Across the last river to the sandy banks! They are dead ahead of us now, boys. Let’s get across this expanse before it gets rough!” And the two men pulled even harder than before, which I could hardly believe.
All too soon, we approached a sandy beach that provided a little protection and made for an easy landing, and the brothers beached the canoe. They took out the fish carcass and the thin rope, tying it in two places: around the backbone just behind the head, and through the mouth and around the lower jaw. Ascopo got out of the canoe and helped them. They put the carcass in the shade of a bush and tied the other end of the rope to its branches.
While they were busy with the crabbing preparation, I took the time to examine my toe. Indeed, a splinter stuck out of the top of it, with just enough protruding that I could get my fingernails on it. I pulled and nearly fainted from the pain, but the splinter did not budge. Taking a deep breath, I tried again, and this time the splinter came free with a spurt of blood.
My toe looked nasty. It was purple near the nail, where I had probably jammed and bruised it, there was a gash right at the joint where the splinter had split the skin, and now there was a pool of blood drying around it. I was about to get out and wash it off, but the three were already turning the canoe around in preparation for heading out again. I put my other foot over the worst of the bloodstain to hide it.
“We’ll come back here to catch crabs as soon as we get the weir repaired,” Keetrauk said as he leaped into the bow, his brother pushed us off from the stern, and we headed out again into open water. The first run that morning was just plain fun, skimming the surface as the sun came up. But now we were heading toward the inlet, which joins the sound to the open sea. There was a little wind and small waves, and I could see the current roiling along. The shore seemed a far distance away, certainly farther than I could swim. I was apprehensive.
Spirit Quest Page 10