“Their ears are marked. I don’t know the markings well enough to know whose they are.” An idea came to her, and she said, “You see that female reindeer?”
“I can’t tell the difference. They all have antlers.”
“You can tell by the udder. Derek, why don’t we milk her?”
“Milk her! How would we catch her?”
“Well, she seems pretty tame and she’s used to people. You can tell that.”
“I’ve never milked anything in my life,” he protested.
“Well, I have, but you have to hold her.”
“Hold her! How?”
“By the antlers. Wait, let me get an empty can.”
Derek looked askance at her, then shook his head. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he protested. He looked at the reindeer, which was peering at them from only about three meters away.
“Give her something to eat.”
“We don’t have much. Here’s one of the last slices of bread.”
“I’ll trade that any day for a cup of reindeer milk. It’s filled with fat and is very nourishing. They don’t have much milk, but it’s much richer than goat’s milk. Come on. You go first and get her by the antlers. Feed her and then grab her.”
Derek moved forward with some trepidation. He did not like large animals, and although reindeer were small compared to elk or moose, this one was still big enough to have a healthy set of antlers. He advanced slowly and held a piece of the bread out in his hand. The reindeer held its ground and then stretched its neck out and nibbled at the bread. When he put another morsel on his palm, it came closer. “Get ready,” he said. “I don’t know how hard she’ll be to hold.”
“I’m ready.”
Derek fed the last of the bread to the reindeer, then grabbed her antlers. He was slightly off balance, and when she jerked violently, he slipped to the ground and the reindeer panicked and ran right over him.
“Hey!” Derek yelled. “She’s getting away!”
“She’ll come back,” Mallory said, laughing. “I’m surprised you can’t even handle one small female reindeer!”
Derek got to his feet and brushed the snow off the seat of his pants. “All right,” he said grimly. “Let’s try this again.” He found another piece of bread and lured the reindeer back, drawing out the rope he had stowed in his pocket. When the animal took the bread, he let her have it and then grabbed the antlers. This time he was prepared, and he struggled with it for a moment but was finally able to secure the animal to a scrub tree. “Now, you get the lunch,” he said, grinning.
Mallory milked the reindeer efficiently, then said, “All right. Turn her loose.”
Derek did so, and Mallory handed him the can of milk. “It’s good,” she insisted at his uncertain expression.
He sipped the milk, and a look of surprise washed across his face. “Never tasted anything quite like it.”
After sharing the milk, they managed to lure in two more female reindeer so that by the time they had milked both of them, their hunger was somewhat abated. It was already dark, even though it was still early in the afternoon, and they were exhausted from skiing.
“I don’t know about you, but I need a nap,” Derek said. “We’ll just have to trust that nobody’s looking for us out in the middle of nowhere.” They pulled their blankets out, and he said, “You get close to the fire, Mallory.”
She lay down and stared into the fire. He lay down behind her and pulled the blankets up but left his arm over her. She felt odd about this, but safe. The day had been hard, and she grew sleepy. The fire made an orange dot in the blackness, and overhead the constellations were bright.
Derek was tired himself, but not too tired to enjoy holding Mallory close as she lay with her back against him. “It’s strange how little it takes to make a man happy, isn’t it? Here we’re in terrible danger, but we’ve got enough to eat and we’ve got a fire. We’re all right for the moment.”
“I remember someone asked Emerson once what he wanted most. He said, ‘If I can think of it, it isn’t what I want.’ ”
“I know what he means. What we want most can never be put into words. Are you warm enough?”
“Yes, it’s heavenly.”
“Aren’t you ever afraid of me?”
Mallory was very aware of his strong body pressing against her. “No.”
“That’s strange.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me.”
“You’re right about that.”
They lay there silently soaking up the heat from the flickering flames, and finally Mallory said, “Life changes so quickly. Sometimes a person will bend over to pick up something that fell out of his hand, and when he straightens up the whole world has changed.”
“That sounds like something from a poem.”
“Not really.” She smiled in the darkness. “You can put it in one of yours.”
“I’ll put a footnote on it. ‘See the works of Mallory Anne Winslow.’ ”
“I don’t want to be a footnote. You can have it. It’s yours.”
They lay there enjoying the stillness, and finally both of them dropped off to sleep. From out of the darkness came the cry of a wolf, but they were so deep in sleep they never heard it.
****
The nap lasted longer than either of them had intended, so they decided to stay at their cozy little campsite overnight rather than moving on immediately. They felt rather safe out in the northern wilderness and were a little reluctant to get back on their skis.
The next morning they arose long before daylight, ate the final can of beans, and made a small pot of coffee, leaving enough grounds for one more day. The smell of woodsmoke and coffee laced the thin air and a breeze stirred the snow, sweeping it across the tundra and bringing a musty odor with it.
They set themselves to the journey and skied hard all morning. At noon they were ready to stop for a break when Derek said suddenly, “Look, there are some people and a big herd of reindeer!”
“That must be some of the Lapps. Maybe they’ll know where Jagg is.”
They advanced and found a family on the move. Mallory did not know them, but an old woman who stood beside her son-in-law said, “The Jesus woman.”
Mallory was relieved. “Yes.”
“You are hunting for Jagg?” her son said. “He’s over there. He’s ahead of us no more than half a day.”
“Thank you,” Mallory said. She turned to Derek and said, “We should be able to catch them. They move very slowly.”
“Let’s do it. It’s going to be a cold camp and a hungry one if we don’t.”
****
They caught up with Jagg and his family late in the afternoon, long after the sun had set. They were greeted at the rear of the herd by Mayda, who was holding a baby. “You’re back!” she cried, hugging Mallory.
“Yes, and I brought a friend with me. You remember Derek.”
Mayda looked up at the tall man. “Yes, I remember. He is so big!”
“Yes, and you are very pretty,” Derek said with a smile.
“Who is this beautiful baby?” Mallory asked.
“This is a friend’s baby. I’m just watching her for today so her mother can get some rest. Come,” she told both of them, “you must be tired and hungry.”
They soon came upon the family’s small kata, their black conical tent. Blue smoke was curling invitingly from the wide smoke hole.
“They look like pictures I’ve seen of the American Indian tepees,” Derek said.
“They’re very much like them,” Mallory said. “They can take them down and put them up in almost no time.”
“Won’t we be an imposition?”
“No, you don’t even have to knock. The dogs will announce you. In fact, I don’t think anyone knocks at a door in Lapland.”
Indeed, the dogs did come running out, several of them—two of them black and three of them a strange cream color. They were large dogs but not unfriendly. They swarmed around the pair, and both Derek and Mallory leaned ove
r to pet them.
“The Lapps couldn’t do without their dogs,” Mallory said. “They are great pets, but they’re also used for herding.”
When they reached the tent, Jagg and Orva came with Remu, the mother, and Lorge to greet them. They were all saying, “Pourist! pourist!”
“That’s Lapp for ‘I greet you.’ Try to say it to them.”
Derek managed to imitate the sound and the family glowed at his effort. At six-two, he towered over all of them.
“Come inside. We eat,” Jagg said.
As Derek stooped to go inside, Mallory whispered, “Be careful not to walk behind the fire, I mean on the side of the fire opposite the door.”
“Why not?”
“Because they keep their food in that place, and they consider that part of a kata sacred.”
It took a moment for his eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. The fire was burning in the center, and he noted that the smoke hole was very large—about five feet in diameter. “Doesn’t it ever rain through that?”
“They cover it up when it does,” Mallory said.
The whole family came into the tent, including the dogs, and they all settled in around the fire in the center. Derek touched the tent cloth behind him, noting that it was made of a lightweight wool. The floor was covered with layers upon layers of fresh twigs, which made a soft, springy carpet that was a little slippery to walk on. There were several reindeer-skin bags on the floor to serve as chairs and birch-bark cases looking somewhat like suitcases. A few pots and pans completed the equipment. He noted that men and women alike wore long coats trimmed with bands of bright cloth. Orva drew out an old-fashioned coffee mill from one of the birch-bark cases, and Derek watched with interest as she sat on one of the rolled-up reindeer skins and held the mill on her lap.
“I used to watch my grandmother do that,” he remarked.
Remu, the mother, was busy roasting coffee in an iron kettle.
“Coffee will be good, Mother,” Mallory said. She turned to Derek, saying, “They love coffee. They buy the beans and grind them up themselves, and they always serve them.”
“It smells good.”
Finally the coffee was ready, and Remu opened a reindeer-skin bag and pulled out a piece of dried fish. She pulled off a piece of fish skin, which she put into the pot, scales and all.
“Why is she doing that?” Derek asked softly.
“To settle the coffee, I think. She’ll add a little salt to it too.”
When the coffee was ready, Derek held the cup, which was fashioned of northern white birch in the shape of a small dipper and beautifully hand-decorated with primitive designs.
“Sugar,” Jagg said, reaching into another bag and bringing out a conical loaf of sugar almost as large as a loaf of bread. He broke off a piece with a specially devised pair of pinchers and extended it toward Derek.
He put the piece of sugar in his coffee as the others laughed.
“You people never know how to use sugar,” Jagg said. He broke off another piece, put it in his mouth, and then sipped the coffee.
“That’s one way of doing it,” Derek said.
“We have goat’s milk too,” Lorge said. He produced a small jar, and when Derek put a small amount into his cup, he found it gave the coffee a delightful flavor.
“We don’t use reindeer milk so much as we used to,” Jagg said.
“Why’s that?” Derek asked.
“Reindeer give less milk. Besides, it’s more convenient to keep two or three goats that are willing to stay near the kata. Before, when my wife wanted milk, she had to go run a reindeer down and I’d have to hold the animal. The goats just come when she calls.”
The dogs had been keeping a close watch on all the activity, paying special attention to the guest. When Derek leaned over to look at the baby Mayda was holding and stroke the baby’s fine hair, he suddenly found his wrist grasped by one of the dogs. The large dog had strong teeth, but he did not break the skin.
“Jog!” Mayda said quickly and tapped the dog on the nose. “It’s all right.”
Reluctantly the dog released Derek, and Derek rubbed his wrist. “Why did he do that?”
“He didn’t mean to hurt you,” Jagg said. “Only to protect the baby. That’s what his job is. You can see he did not draw blood.”
“That’s the way it is with the Lapps,” Mallory informed him. “They take an old, dependable dog and train it to take care of the baby. The mother has so much work to do inside and out that it’s a good way to keep the baby safe.”
Both Derek and Mallory were tired, but Mallory knew she had to explain their position.
“Jagg, I must tell you we are being hunted by some evil men. German soldiers. We’re trying to get to the border over to the east.”
“What men are these?” he asked. He listened as Mallory explained, and then he said, “They never come among us. You will be safe.”
“Not if they see me,” Derek said. “I’m so tall they’d notice me at once, and they’d spot a fair-skinned woman like Mallory.”
“We are moving that way a little every day. It is slow, but you will stay with us.”
“It might be dangerous for you if you were caught hiding us.”
“The good Lord will take care of us,” Lorge said. “We are His sheep, and He is our shepherd.”
“That’s good, son,” Jagg said. He smiled, his weathered face crinkling.
“Mallory, you’ll be happy to hear the congregation has grown. We have over thirty now. Thirty-five if you count some who have backslidden a bit.”
“Tell me about them,” Mallory said. “I’ll see them tomorrow, but I want to hear all that’s going on.”
Derek listened as Lorge eagerly talked about the little congregation. His eyes ran around the circle, studying the faces illuminated by the flickering fire. Mostly, however, he kept his gaze on Mallory. There was an eager light in her eyes that held a loving expression. Her lips stirred pleasantly as she listened to Lorge, and her coat fell away from her neck, revealing the smooth, ivory shading of her skin. Her black hair made her skin seem fairer. He admired the smooth roundness of her shoulders and the delicate lines of her body.
Remu served up some supper, and the family had a lively conversation as they enjoyed the reindeer meat. Before long it was time to settle down for the night.
“I always say a prayer for my family now,” Lorge said, “and when I’m done, I would like it very much if you would pray for me, Jesus woman.”
Derek was touched by the family’s prayer time. With all the many complications in his life, their simple faith moved him deeply, and he longed for the same kind of simplicity in his own life. As he fell asleep, he thought, It doesn’t seem likely that my life will ever be as simple as this. . . .
****
For three days Derek and Mallory immersed themselves in the lives of the Lapps. They got up each morning and helped to take the tent down. Derek discovered that everyone carried a part of the tent. He was amazed at how quickly it could be dismantled, and soon their possessions were packed on sleds that were pulled by the reindeer. The animals were driven with a single line attached to the base of the antlers. The adult Lapps never rode on the reindeer, for they were only strong enough to carry the children.
The Lapp dogs were also very important in the life of these people. Derek was amazed the first time he saw the dogs eat, for they were trained from the time they were puppies to take turns at feeding and always in the same order. Jagg strictly supervised his dogs, ensuring that every dog would get his share. Their main food, he learned, was hot soup consisting largely of reindeer blood preserved from the slaughtering time.
As Derek and Mallory moved east with the Lapps toward the border, the days passed imperceptibly. There was no sign of pursuit from the Nazis, and Derek said one morning, “You know, I think we could leave and make a dash for the border.”
“Jagg says the weather’s going to get worse. We might get caught,” Mallory said.
“I suppose we’d better not chance it, then.”
Before Derek went to bed that night, he hung up the hay outside the tent that he had used in the boots Jagg had given him. He had found that the Lapp boots stuffed with hay did indeed keep his feet warmer than his other boots.
The next morning he got up and went out to get the hay. When he realized it wasn’t there, he went back in the tent and exclaimed, “My hay—it’s gone!”
Orva laughed at him. “The goats ate it. You have to take better care of your things, Derek.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Orva?” he asked as he sat down by the fire.
“People have to learn from their mistakes,” she said. She came over and sat down beside him and began touching his hair. “You’re a pretty man.”
Derek saw that Mallory was watching this with amusement.
“I am not!” he exclaimed. “Men aren’t pretty.”
“You are,” Orva insisted. “Why don’t you take me for your woman? I could make life very easy.”
Derek heard Mallory burst into laughter.
“That’s your best offer, Derek.”
He suddenly grinned. “Well, that is a good offer, Orva, but I’ll be leaving here. The Germans are going to keep looking for me, and they’ll hang me or shoot me if they find me.”
She laughed. “You don’t want me anyhow. You like that one.”
Now it was Mallory’s turn to feel uneasy. Her cheeks flushed, and she left the tent.
Derek laughed. “You’re right.”
“She is tall enough for you,” Orva went on. “I am not, so you may have her.”
“Thank you, Orva.” Derek got up and left to follow Mallory. When they were outside, he said, “Well, there’s one chance I had for a wife.”
“I don’t think you’d be too happy with Orva. I feel bad about her.”
“Well, as she says, I can have you.”
Mallory glanced at him quickly, her cheeks still burning. “That’s foolishness!” she said. “I’ve got to go. We’re going to have a service tonight, and I need to prepare a sermon.”
****
Derek was very quiet during the service that night. As he listened, he noted that no matter what the subject of the sermon, Mallory always spoke of Jesus.
The Unlikely Allies Page 24