Ghosts of James Bay Read Online Free Page A

and lakes in summer or shoes for walking on top of the snow in winter. Many of the visitors looked sick, and even had the black lips that came sometimes after a particularly long and hard winter. He had seen for himself they could not hunt well, and most had the sunken eyes that showed they were near starvation. All these factors would give his people advantages in trade. He thrilled at what magic he might getin exchange for a complete canoe or an entire caribou carcass. But he must be patient. He must make a good trade for the things they had given him and return to show his people. Then he could persuade them to trade for more.
    Slowly he put down the frozen water and picked up the knife. He was certain his people could get more of these and probably some of the hatchets he had seen. Maybe, and the warrior in him thrilled at the thought, they could even get one of the long sticks that made noise and brought down game from far away. Then they need never fear attack from their enemies again. It was a good thought: safety for his people and fear spread far among his enemies. Quietly the warrior began to sing a battle song.
    It told of a fight long ago when his people had defeated a raiding party of the hated
Iri-akhoiw
. It had happened far to the south at the limits of his people’s travels. The
Iri-akhoiw
rarely moved this far north, being partly farmers, but occasionally they followed the great trading circle north in search of prisoners and plunder.
    The lot of a prisoner of the
Iri-akhoiw
was not an enviable one. With luck, and if you stood up to the beatings to test your character, you might be selected to be adopted by a family who had recently lost a member. If so, and if you worked hard, you would be accepted. If not, you would be burned with hot coals and sticks, slowly and painfully, from the feet up. Then you would be scalped and hot sand rubbed in the wound. If you fainted, you would be revived with water and food and the process continued because the point was that you should endure as much pain as humanly possible before you died. When at last you did die, your flesh would be ritually eaten so that all the
Iri-akhoiw
could partake of your bravery.
    On the occasion that the warrior sang about, this had not happened. The
Kenistenoag
had seen the enemy first, watchedcarefully, and caught them in the open before they could build one of their stockades. The slaughter had been great and the
Iri-akhoiw
had not returned for many seasons.
    Of course, there were many occasions when the outcome had been the other way, and the invaders had fallen upon an unsuspecting village, but it was better to sing of the victories. When the song was done, the warrior crawled into his rough lean-to and huddled beneath his caribou-skin blanket. Tomorrow he would load up his sled, return to the strangers, and make a good trade. Things were turning out well. Content, the warrior slept.

THREE
    I felt the chill in the air before the fog actually enveloped me. I was wearing a sweatshirt, but the morning was warm so I just had shorts on. The first thing I noticed was a rash of goose bumps on my legs. I shivered and looked up. The fog was almost on me. It hung like a rolling, heavy curtain over the water a few feet away. Oddly it appeared to be moving toward me unusually fast. In seconds I wouldn’t be able to see a thing. Quickly I glanced at the shore to try to get my bearings. I caught a glimpse of a dark line of trees before the shore, the water, the sky, everything, disappeared. It was even hard to make out the bow of the canoe through the smothering fog.
    Digging the paddle in hard, I turned the nose of the canoe toward where I had last seen the shore. If I concentrated on keeping even paddle strokes on each side, and was lucky, I should hit the shore and be able to work my way back to camp. If I didn’t, I would end up going around in large circles until the fog cleared—not a prospect I relished. Already I was feeling