Erik touched Anna’s shoulder. “Time to get up. There’s a lot to do before the snow falls.”
With a groan, Anna rolled onto her side and peered up at Erik’s cheerful face. “Too early.” She buried her head beneath her blanket.
“Sorry, but if we don’t get moving, we’ll find ourselves camping in the snow. Not a pleasant thought.”
He was right. Anna grudgingly sat up. Exhausted, she leaned close to the fire to warm her hands. Was her constant weariness unusual?
Erik and Iya didn’t act overly tired. Erik seemed to possess an endless supply of energy.
She reached over and shook Iya.
“You’re putting on a little weight,” Erik said approvingly. He quickly added, “I mean, you were kind of skinny when I first met you. You’re looking real good now.”
Thankful he had not guessed her condition, Anna offered a half smile. He would know the reason for her weight gain soon enough. “Good food,” she said and nudged Iya again. Now fully awake, Anna lifted her arms over her head, stretched, and set off for the river. The sweet fragrance of fall berries and damp earthy smell of the forest engulfed her. This is a good place. She walked with her arms swinging at her sides.
The rushing sound of the river greeted her long before she stood on its bank. She knelt next to a quiet pool, bent over the water, and peered at her reflection. She studied the olive-complexioned woman who stared back at her from golden, almond-shaped eyes. A woman, no longer a girl.
A woman who is going to have a baby.
She slapped the water and the picture disappeared into quivering, ever-widening ripples. She scooped water into her hands and splashed it over her face.
Gooseflesh rose up on her arms.
Steeling herself against the icy water, she dunked her hair into the river. The cold jolted her and she gasped and quickly scrubbed and rinsed her hair before flinging it out of the stream. Her breathing didn’t slow until she’d squeezed out most of the excess moisture. Then she found a patch of morning sun, sat back, and combed her hair free of tangles.
The water washed over the shallows, tripped across rock beds, and slowed as it flowed into large, deep pools. Finally, it rushed on toward the sea.
Iya’s greeting drew Anna out of her reverie. The little girl ran toward her. Iya looked at the water warily, crouched along the shore, and quickly rinsed her face. With a shiver, she said, “It is cold.”
Anna smiled innocently as she dipped her hand into the river, filled her cupped palm with icy water, and tossed it at Iya.
The little girl squealed and leapt away, then with a grin and a look of mirthful revenge, she swiftly reciprocated.
One splash met another, and soon both were knee-deep in the river, tossing water at each other and laughing so hard they had to stop to catch their breath.
They were so involved in their play, Anna didn’t notice Erik until he cleared his throat loud enough to catch their attention. She and Iya stopped, looked up at Erik on the dry shore, and surveyed each other’s soaked condition.
He stood with arms folded across his chest, wearing a look of faint annoyance. “Look at you two,” he said sternly. “You’re both soaking wet and turning blue with the cold. Next thing you know, you’ll be down sick.” He maintained his look of disapproval a moment longer, then a small smile brightened his face and he shook his head in the same way an exasperated mother might.
Anna and Iya glanced at each other. As if they had planned it, they skiffed their hands across the river’s surface and doused Erik before he could retreat.
Sucking in his breath, he stepped back from the bank, and stared down at his drenched clothing.
Anna and Iya burst into laughter.
Erik joined in the gaiety and stepped into the river and splashed his two comrades.
After a few minutes of play, the three waded to shore.
Anna trudged up the bank and into the deep grass. Her wet clothes clung to her, revealing her rounded belly. She quickly turned away from Erik. “What do we do today?”
“First, both of you need to dry off by the fire while you have your breakfast. After that, I was hoping you would pick some berries. I’m going to scout around for game.”
Careful to keep her back to Erik, Anna took Iya’s hand. “Yes, berries gone soon.”
She and Iya headed toward camp, leaving a wet trail behind them.
With a pelt wrapped about her shoulders for warmth, as well as a way to conceal her stomach, Anna stood with her back to the fire while she ate a biscuit.
Iya did the same. The early morning spree had apparently given them both an appetite.
The cool air against wet clothing sent tremors through Anna.
Iya was so cold she couldn’t keep from shivering.
A small smile played at the corners of Erik’s mouth as he sipped his coffee. “Maybe we ought to make an early morning bath part of our routine.”
“No.” Iya’s teeth chattered.
He chuckled. “All right, no morning baths.” After finishing, he slipped his pouch over one shoulder and picked up his rifle. “I won’t be gone any longer than I have to. There should be plenty of game. With any luck, we’ll have meat for supper.” He headed for the forest. Abruptly he stopped and looked back at the girls. “Don’t wander too far. It’s easy to get lost.” With that he turned and disappeared into the heavy brush.
Anna turned to warm the front of her tunic and let the pelt slide from her shoulders.
Soon, with their clothing only partially dried, Anna reluctantly left the warmth of the fire, Iya following. There were berries to be picked. Trying to ignore her discomfort, she took a basket for each of them and went in search of wild fruit. Moving cautiously through the underbrush, always aware of danger, Anna marked their trail by notching trees with her knife. It didn’t take long before they came upon a patch of berries.
Anna examined the fruit carefully. She had never seen the shiny red droplets that hung from weak, drooping vines. She plucked one and rolled it between her fingers.
Firm and smooth. Looked edible. The only way to know for certain was to taste it.
Bracing herself for bitterness, Anna nibbled a berry and was rewarded with a sweet juiciness. “Berries taste good.” She stripped the long green vines of their fruit, nearly filling her basket.
Iya worked more slowly.
Sounds and smells Anna had never known filled the forest. Squirrels’ shrill voices echoed from tree to tree as they darted about gathering stores for winter, then scampering up trees and disappearing into their winter burrows. The few birds that had not yet flown south flitted beneath the forest canopy, calling to one another as they perched in the alders and birch. The sun’s rays reached down through the trees, chasing away forest shadows and illuminating dust and insects floating on the air currents. Wind whispered across the tops of the trees, sending down showers of yellow leaves, the last of the season.
Anna breathed deeply of the damp, musky fragrance that permeated the thicket, and suppressed a desire to run through the deep grass and romp among the sweet-smelling groves. Sometimes childhood felt close at hand, but maintaining an adult mind-set, she forced her hands to remain busy.
As she filled her basket, she peered up at the tops of the evergreens and alders. How did they grow so large? At her home on the beach, there were no trees.
Her senses brimmed with the fragrant scent of spruce mingled with the soft, tangy smell of berries. This is the most restful place I have ever known. Her troubles felt small here in the forest, and almost anything seemed possible. Maybe she would find peace one day ... and a home for herself and Iya. It didn’t really matter about her, but Iya—she needed a family.
There were more berries than Anna had anticipated. She turned to Iya. “We need to take the baskets back to camp to empty them.”
Had something rustled in the brush? Actually it was more like a presence than a sound. Something nearby hid from sight.
The tranquility she’d known only moments before fled, leaving behind uncertainty and alarm.
She and Iya were not alone.
The hair on the back of Anna’s neck stood on end as her eyes searched the shadowy forest. She listened for the slightest sound. Fear grabbed hold of her and she barely breathed.
“I love—”
Anna shushed Iya.
The little girl’s brows furrowed and she quieted immediately and grabbed hold of Anna’s hand.
Anna remained silent ... listening.
The only sounds were that of the forest.
Maybe she had imagined it. She peered into the thicket to see what might be hidden there.
Without warning, an enormous brown bear rose to his back legs and towered above the bushes, no more than twenty feet from Anna and Iya, his small, dark eyes glaring menacingly in their direction.
Anna’s breath caught. Her heart hammered beneath her ribs and sweat dampened the palms of her hands while the moisture in her mouth dried up.
Iya’s grip tightened.
The bear’s mouth opened, exposing large canine teeth, and its nose twitched as it sniffed the wind, trying to identify the intruders. Its eyes searched, and its huge paws clawed the air. He sniffed again, testing the breeze. Then its eyes met Anna’s.
For an endless moment they stared at each other. Neither moved.
Anna held her breath. Her mind screamed run! but something held her in place.
Iya pushed closer to Anna.
The bear studied them and snarled—a deadly sound that came from deep within its chest. He dropped to the ground.
Anna braced for his charge.
Instead, he locked his front legs and threw his weight forward and bounced twice, blustering at Anna in an ungodly way, moisture dripping from its snout. He stood again, snarling and snapping at the air.
Trembling, Anna remained still. Her eyes never left those of her enemy. Her heart felt as if it were throttling the inside of her chest.
The bear threatened twice more, sniffed the air, and lumbered off into the bushes as if bored with the whole game.
Afraid to move, Anna held her ground for several minutes. At the slightest sign of weakness, he might return and attack. Only after she was certain he had gone did she breathe deeply and relax her muscles. She scooped Iya into her arms and crushed her against her chest while tears spilled onto her cheeks. Carrying her sister, Anna walked on unsteady legs toward camp.
Again and again she glanced at the trail behind her, fearing the animal was following. When she reached camp, she dropped to her knees and let Iya free.
Drained physically and emotionally, she struggled to her feet. She needed to build a fire.
When it was crackling with life, Anna pulled Iya close and huddled near the flames, watching the forest and wishing Erik would return. Finally, Anna’s heart slowed to its normal rhythm and she managed to relax, though she remained alert. The scene played over and over in her mind.
The baskets of berries.
She groaned. She’d left them at the thicket.
Iya looked up at her sister. “What is wrong?”
Her voice heavy, Anna said, “I left the baskets.” Wishing for another alternative, she added, “I must get them.”
Iya shook her head.
“I must go. You stay close to the fire. I will be back.” She hurried off in search of the forgotten baskets. Anna crept soundlessly through the forest, listening for anything unusual, sniffing the wind, and watching for the great bear. She located the baskets without any further confrontations. With one quick glance around the clearing, she snatched the berries up and raced back through the woods to the relative safety of camp.
The moment she saw Iya, she was sorry she’d left her. The little girl’s face was ashen gray and etched with fear. She had curled herself into a tight ball and sat with her back pressed against a tree. When she spotted Anna, relief spread across her face. She jumped to her feet and ran to her sister, hugging her about the waist.
Iya could no longer reach completely around Anna’s swollen waistline. She would have to tell Erik soon. “We are safe.” She stroked Iya’s hair. “The bear is gone.”
The sharp sound of a snapping twig followed by the crackling of leaves and brush came from the darkness of the woods. Something was out there!
Anna looked for a weapon.
The shaman’s spear.
She grabbed it and raised the weapon in the air.
Erik emerged from the shadows, looking tired but content. He carried a small animal across his shoulders. He was wearing a smile, but when he looked at Anna it faded. “What happened? What’s wrong? You two look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Anna laughed with relief. “We thought we both be ghosts.” She lowered the spear. “We pick berries and bear come. He looked at us and beat ground, but not hurt us. Afraid he follow.”
Erik slid the animal from his shoulders and glanced back into the woods. “I figured we’d be visited sooner or later. I just hoped it would be later, after the cabin was built.” He sat on a stump next to the fire. “I suppose if he’d wanted to cause trouble, he would have.” Erik leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs and pressing his palms together. “You know, I’ve heard stories of Indians who talk to bears. They say if the bear feels you’re a friend, he won’t attack.” Again, he glanced at the forest. “All the same, I’ll feel better after the cabin is up. First thing tomorrow, we start.”
The following morning they prepared the cabin site, and Erik cut timber. The next several days passed quickly, each filled with work and little rest.
Erik was good with an ax, felling one tree after another.
Anna and Iya stripped away the limbs and heavy bark. The girls also gathered more berries and other edible plants and roots, always watchful for foraging bears.
After the trees were cut and stripped, Erik hauled them to the building site where he notched each, then stacked them one upon the other, pounding them together with wooden pegs. As the walls grew taller, it became difficult to hoist them into place. He angled a log at each end of the cabin wall and, with Anna’s help, rolled the timbers up the incline and into position. It worked well, and soon four secure walls were in place.
The roof was the next hurdle. First Erik built a steeply pitched frame, then he cut shakes from the remaining trees. He laid these across the frame, careful to overlap each, and notched them together to prevent rain or melting snow from seeping through.
Iya and Anna gathered moss and mud to fill the gaps between the logs, forming an airtight seal to keep out the cold winter winds.
Erik left a mysterious four-foot gap on one side of the small cabin. One afternoon, he told her and Iya to gather stones from the riverbed.
“What for?”
With a wave of his arm toward the gap, Erik answered, “They’ll make a fine fireplace.”
“What fireplace?”
“It’s for burning wood to heat the cabin and for cooking.”
“That will be good.” What did a fireplace look like? She led Iya to the river. They made numerous trips to and from the riverbed, and each time Anna would stop to rest, she watched Erik mortar the rocks with mud.
A fireplace with a strong chimney took shape.
Erik didn’t yield to fatigue, but each day worked hard. The threat of winter surely motivated him.
When he’d finished the fireplace, he immediately set to work fashioning a rough door of spruce poles hinged with strips of hide. After hanging the door, he stepped back and removed his hat from his head. “Not bad.”
Anna approached him with a container of water. “You like drink?” She dipped out a tin of cold water from the jug and held out the cup.
“Thank you.” Erik drained the tin, then held it out to Anna. “A little more?”
She filled the tin again.
This time, he drank more slowly while he eyed the cabin. “It won’t win a beauty contest, but it should keep us warm and dry. I’ll have to cut out a window after I get the cache up.” He looked at the gray sky. “By the looks of things, we’re running out of time. I’d better get started on that cache right away. Otherwise, once the cold weather hits, the animals will make short work of our labor.” He sat on a stump. “Tomorrow I want to do some hunting, but I’m going to need several poles for the cache. Could you and Iya cut the limbs for me while I’m gone?”
“We will do it.” Anna turned and studied the cabin. A small smile settled across her lips at her secret. “This is good house. It will keep us warm.” She placed her hand over her stomach. The child would be safe here.
Erik looked at her quizzically. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” Anna turned to gather boughs for the cabin floor. I must tell him. Soon he will know even if I do not speak of it.
Erik retrieved his fishing pole. “I’m going to do some fishing. The river could freeze up any time, and we still don’t have enough to see us through the winter.”
Anna nodded, only half aware of what he’d said, for a faint fluttering in her abdomen pushed away all other distractions. It is the child. Kinauquak’s and mine.
The baby would carry on the heritage of her people.