Algonquin Spring Read online

  My hands and ankles were starting to chafe and bleed from the vines that bound them. The blood slowly dripped onto my skull and ran down my face, into my mouth. At least it was some liquid to moisten my lips, which were starting to dry out. My mouth was dry too, mostly because of the fear flowing through my body. I had a sudden urge to defecate and I did not know if I could resist the cramping of my intestines. I could not stand the pain, and with a sudden rush, my bowels emptied and spilled onto the ground, immediately causing the man at the end the stick to step into the excrement and slip. My last memory of that moment was a sudden foreign curse and my head hitting the ground, causing me to black out again.

  It only seemed like I was out for a few minutes. This time, instead of my captors’ smell awakening me, it was someone kicking me in the ribs, yelling “Skræling, Skræling,” that woke me. The sudden pain and loud yelling caused me to sit up with a cold chill running through my body. My wrists and ankles were still raw and bleeding from being carried. With all four of my appendages still fastened, I was totally incapacitated and defenceless.

  I opened my eyes and looked at my tormentor. The sun was setting behind him and the evening rays fell upon him, lighting his hair like a bonfire. His locks were a bright red, with facial hair to match. It was the colour of the red ochre that our people customarily painted themselves with.

  Who were these people with the colours of the sun in their hair? They had hair on their faces, which I had never seen before on any of my kind. Their weapons were different from any I had ever encountered, and they were very efficient killers, from what I had seen in the forest.

  My assailant untied me and gave me another kick in my ribs, and I got the hint he wanted me up. Whale Bone was standing behind me, whimpering and gagging. The poor man was going to die of fright before these strangers could do anything to him.

  “Øysten,” said Visäte, “why did you bring these men to our village? Look at them, they paint themselves in taufr (red ochre). They look like fools. These red men are of no use to us. Kill them!”

  “We need them, Visäte, as þræls (slaves) to take over the oars for the two men we have lost in this forsaken land, Æirik the Elder who died after we arrived and Frømund, whom these Red Skrælings stuck with a harpoon. We probably would have killed the two of them but Floki sneaked up behind the giant there and rattled him in the head. Bior cut the arm off the youngest one, who bled out and died along with another of the weaklings who had been gored by the wounded rheindyri. The old one just curled up and started to puke his guts out. Not much sport in killing either of them in those circumstances.”

  “Well, feed them then, Øysten. We need them healthy for where we are going. We leave tomorrow for the island in the mists that my brother Edvard told us about when he came this route. It is essential that we catch enough lax (salmon) and obtain some björn (bear) meat for our journey home, plus the blessing of Óðinn (Odin) for our crossing. The sooner we leave this land, the easier I will feel. There has to be more of these red warriors and we cannot afford to lose any more of our men for naught. This land has nothing to offer except death and harsh elements.”

  I turned and looked at Whale Bone and said, “My friend, did you understand what these men were saying?”

  “No, Tall Man, it was all just noise that I could not recognize,” he replied.

  “Strange, I could understand every word they said!” I replied.

  Whale Bone looked at me oddly and his face twisted. “Tall Man, something out of the ordinary is happening; the Great Spirit may be preparing you for a journey. I hope he has plans for me also.”

  They gave us a strange vessel that was as hard as a rock. In it were a broth and chunks of caribou and our seal meat. We had not eaten in nearly a day. Whale Bone and I dipped our hands into the broth to grab the chunks of meat and just as quickly pulled them out. The broth was very hot and my fingers were throbbing. Whale Bone had popped a chunk of meat into his mouth and immediately spat it back out; he was gasping and spitting the hot residue out of his mouth.

  Visäte turned to Øysten and said, “They don’t even know enough to let the food cool down. How do you expect them to handle an oar? Kill them now and get it over with!”

  2

  THE ISLAND

  Early the next morning, they took Whale Bone and me to a boat unlike any we had seen before. It was five to six times larger than one of our canoes and had eight sets of paddles on each side.

  As we started to get aboard this vessel, we at once realized how many of the strange men there were. I counted over thirty, but I knew that I was missing some. They loaded weapons, shields, robes, and remnants of the caribou and seal onto the craft and then sat down on a wooden plank behind a huge paddle that protruded through a hole in the side of this huge boat.

  Our captors led us toward the middle of the craft and put us behind one of these paddles. They then placed our hands on the wooden shaft.

  As soon as we sat down, we could feel the boat start to move. About half the crew was pushing the craft out into the water, and as we felt it leaving the shore, the men who were pushing jumped into the vessel, accompanied by great shouts from all of the strangers.

  “Øysten,” said Visäte, “sigla (set sail) for the suður (south). Raise the sail and let us see how far the wind will take us today, saving the strength of our men. I want to reach this island of plenty in six days, if Njörðr (the God of sea and wind) looks kindly on us. When the wind dies, I want our men to be ready to row. With sixteen sets of oars and thirty-two men on them at all times, we will make good time. We have eight extra men, which will allow a break every four hours for the rowers. The Skrælings are to have no break for rowing. Keep them at their stations at all times. Feed them when the men eat, every six hours. They can rest when the wind blows. For now let the men relax and make sure they are fed and have water.”

  Whale Bone and I sat and held onto the wooden shaft, afraid to move. The damp ocean air made us shiver and the stench of the men around us made us gag. One of them brought us raw seal meat to eat and water. The men who were at the oars ate and then started to fall to sleep. We also noticed eight men lying between the two sets of oars, fast asleep. One who appeared to be the leader stood at the rear of the boat and seemed to steer it with a long-handled shaft. The boat glided through the water with no effort. It looked as if the only power that moved it was of a large piece of skin fastened to a tree without branches. The piece had striped colours running from top to bottom. When the wind blew, it made the skin bulge and propelled the boat along at a speed faster than our people could paddle a canoe. This continued for a long time until the sun started to drop toward the horizon. The skin lost its bulge and four of the strangers started to pull on ropes that dropped the skin lifeless. When finished, the leader yelled, “Rôdr (row),” and all of a sudden the men surrounding us started to pull on the large paddles. We looked around and the man who had kicked me in the ribs after my capture came up to us and yelled the same word.

  I looked at Whale Bone and said, “Imitate what these strangers are doing.”

  After we did this for a long time, our hands started to bleed, so I tore off strips of my clothing, wrapped them tightly around my hands, and told Whale Bone to do the same. This absorbed the blood and eased the friction on our skin.

  I watched the leader, who stood at the back of the boat with the long piece of wood in his hand. He seemed to steer the vessel using a piece of board floating in a bowl of water and looking from the bowl to the sun. During the night, he used the stars as a guide.

  We were always in sight of land and as darkness began to fall, the leader, the one they called Visäte, started to manoeuvre the boat toward the land. We came ashore at the mouth of a small stream. Within minutes they had left the boat and had fires going and shelter made. One of them tied our legs together and tied our hands loosely to the wooden bench we had been sitting on. They then dropped the large skin down the length of the boat and threw some skins over us for
warmth. This was to be our place for the night. There were no guards since we really had no place to go if we did decide to escape. Away from our island and in a land of people who were enemies of the Beothuk, we were safer with the strangers, so far.

  Before long one of our captors brought us water and the same broth they had given us after our capture. This time we let it cool before attempting to eat.

  Keeping close for body warmth, we both slept fitfully. At the first sign of morning, the outsiders came aboard and untied us. We just reversed the way we had sat the previous day and rowed out toward the open water. This big vessel could go forward or backward without turning the ship around. They accomplished this by switching our seating direction.

  When the rising sun started to warm us, the winds came up. The strangers then raised the huge skin and lifted the big paddles. We were speeding along at a good pace when something happened that I had to see to believe. The paddles were almost three times the length of me, and now these strange men were using them to run races. With the crew holding the paddles straight out and keeping them firm, we watched as men took turns racing along the length of the boat on the shafts, turning and racing back, urged on by the cheering of their fellow warriors. As they ran along the length of the boat, I could see the paddles bend as they stepped on them. There were times when I was sure one of them would fall off into the ocean, but they always regained their balance and continued. After a while they became bored and started to run backwards, which was even more harrowing to watch. When they were going backward, to regain their balance they would flap their arms like a large bird. It definitely was amusing to watch them, and amazingly, during most of the afternoon, very few fell overboard.

  After three nights of us staying on the boat tied up, they must have decided that they had came far enough away from our lands that they did not need to bind us on the vessel anymore. For the remainder of the trip we came ashore in the evening with them and slept by the fire. True, we were not going to try to escape just yet. We would pick our spot when we had a good chance of avoiding recapture and death at the hands of other enemies.

  On the afternoon of the eighth sunrise, the boat approached a forested island. The strangers seemed to know where we were going and they kept the shoreline in sight until we came to the mouth of a river (the present-day Vauréal River). The boat went ashore and everyone stepped onto dry land. Whale Bone and I approached the river, stunned by what we observed. The water was teeming with fish. We now knew why these men came here. They would fill their boat with fish and head to their home. This was where we would have to make our escape. Our future with these strangers would take a turn for the worse, one way or another. We would have to bide our time. If we took flight here and hid, we knew that at least we would not starve to death. However, leaving this island and returning home would be nearly impossible. The alternative was definitely worse with our captors. I figured it would probably take five to eight suns to catch, cut up, smoke, and store these fish for what they needed for the voyage home. Enough time to plan our escape.

  “Øysten,” said Visäte, “our friend Edvard gave us excellent instructions to find this island and river. He was right when he said we would find the river teeming with fish, and with the help of Njörðr, we made it. Get the men to work along with those Skrælings, catching, cleaning, and smoking the lax. After six or seven days, we will send the Skrælings out with three or four men to hunt björn. This will give us enough food to get us home.”

  Whale Bone and I were both aching from having to row every day. Our hands were almost raw from the handles. We were able to find some dandelions and get enough juice from them to spread on our hands to help heal them. We would do this at the end of the day to enable the healing process while we slept.

  For the next few days, we waded into the cold water and made fish weirs to trap the fish. Once the barrier was finished, the strangers took their spears, and standing in the river they impaled the fish and threw them onto the bank. It was our job to scale and gut and cut off the head and tail. The strangers had six dogs, which eagerly wolfed down all the fish guts, all the while snapping at the gulls that were also enjoying the feast, causing both sets of scavengers to be splattered with blood and entrails. After a while the growling of the dogs and screeching of the gulls dulled our senses.

  The next step in the process was to cut the fish into strips, hanging them on racks made to suspend the fish over smoking fires. This dried the fish so it could be stored. After three days of this, our muscles were starting to ache from the constant scaling, gutting, and slicing. Our arm muscles were starting to twitch uncontrollably and then cramp. Our hands were becoming soft and wrinkly from working with the wet fish, causing our rowing wounds to reopen and bleed, mixing with the blood of the fish. To try to rid our bodies of the smell, we made sure to bathe every day, above where all the spearing was taking place. Grabbing handfuls of sand, we scrubbed our bloody bodies and clothes, rinsing sand, blood, and guts off by splashing ourselves with water. The days were not yet warm enough to please us, causing our bodies to chill after the experience each day, and so, as soon as we finished, we hurried to the fire to warm ourselves. The strangers, though, never seemed to clean themselves. Most of the time their smell made us gag. It was horrendous! Their breath was even worse — the smell of decaying meat, fish, and whatever else they had eaten. They also seemed to collect a lot of food in their beards, especially the fish eggs that they obtained by holding the fish up and squirting them out of the squirming body.

  The strangers left Whale Bone and me alone, mostly. Occasionally one of us received a cuff to the head or a quick kick if they thought we were not putting enough effort into our duties. However, whenever I stood up straight they stepped back and showed me sudden respect because of my towering height. Whale Bone, on the other hand, was subject to more abuse. They seemed to take delight in tormenting him whenever the urge came upon them.

  Food and water were plentiful, and they let us eat our fill of fish each day. The sea birds were starting to lay eggs and we were able to obtain some, a welcome break from fish. We also used the eggs to mix with the red clay to cover our bodies in red, a sacred colour to us, and it kept the stinging insects away.

  Because we did most of the gutting of the fish that the strangers’ dogs liked to eat, they took a fondness to Whale Bone and me and slept near us each night.

  On the morning of the fifth day, I could see a group of the strangers talking, and one of them pointed at us.

  “Hælgi, pick three men, a couple of the rakkis (dogs), and take the Skrælings also. We need a björn to finish our larder,” said Visäte.

  “Käre, Øpir, and Yngvar, bring the bleikr rakki (white dog) and blakkr rakki (black dog). Today we hunt björn! May Ullr (the God of skill and the hunt) guide us,” declared Hælgi.

  Whale Bone and I looked at each other; it seemed we were going into the forest to hunt. If there was to be any chance of escape at all, this would be our only opening. Once we got into that boat again, we were doomed. I was doubtful we could get close enough to anything to kill it. Any animal could smell these men coming from a long way off.

  We kept to the banks of the river, totally ignoring the salmon swimming up it. My guess was that the men were after a bear, only because they had not headed into the forest. With this many fish, if there were bears around they would be gorging themselves after a winter’s sleep. Hungry and irritable, they would not be an easy kill.

  We accompanied the four strangers armed with bows, quivers of arrows, and spears. Two of them had a short-handled weapon like what had taken young Standing Man’s arm off; the other had a longer version almost the length of his body. He carried if over his shoulder.

  “Hælgi,” asked Käre, “if we do not come across any björn, can we kill these Skrælings for sport?”

  “Käre, I do not think that would be wise. You would have to answer to Visäte when we got back. The punishment would definitely outweigh the sport that you would have
slaying these Red Men. He wants them as þrælls.”

  When the sun was higher, the small group stopped and two of the strangers waded into the river to spear fish, throwing them onto the bank at our feet. We still had the knives they had given us and we gutted the salmon while the other two prepared a fire. The men in the river stopped after about twelve fish and by the time we had them cleaned, the fire was going. They gave us each two sticks, on which we skewered the fish and thrust into the flames to cook. The dripping oils from the fish caused the fire to snap and rise. They had used cedar bows to help with the fire, and this caused an aromatic smell along with a smudge smoke. If there were any inhabitants on this island, this fire’s smell and smoke would unquestionably warn them of our presence. These strangers were either stupid or had no fear for their safety because of their belief in their combative powers.

  After eating we continued on, and toward evening I began to notice a reddening of the river’s water. Within moments, the dogs started to growl.

  “Øpir,” said Hælgi, “go ahead and see what bothers the dogs.”

  The strangers had not noticed the colour of the river. I reached instantly for my knife sheath and felt a sense of protection. Something was about to happen and Whale Bone’s and my immediate future would depend on the outcome.

  Øpir came back with a look that told me whatever was ahead did not instill fear in him. He was smiling.

  “Hælgi,” said Øpir, “there are about six or seven Skrælings gutting a björn by the river. This is too easy. We will kill them and get our björn.”

  “Okay,” said Hælgi. “Käre, you stay here with these two and Øpir, Yngvar, and I will handle what’s up ahead.”