JOURNEY TO THE MIDNIGHT SUN
James Sheldon
LOVE CONQUERS ALL
Book 1 of 3
Chapter 16
Laureal awoke to John’s voice whispering in her ear, “Laureal…sweetheart.” And
opening her eyes to the dim dawn, she saw his smile.
“Did you sleep well?” John asked.
“Yes,” groggily, “did you?”
“Yes.”
“I was worried because you were on the end where it might be cold.”
“I wasn’t cold,” giving her a little kiss.
“Really?”
“Yes,” and sitting up, “Time to rise and shine.”
At the opposite end of the tent, Jessie poked her head out from under the covers. Then, still wrapped in covers but leaning forward, she reached just past her feet and grasped her caribou coat and trousers before disappearing back under the covers. Unseen, she put on her inner layer of caribou clothing with fur facing her skin. Then emerging, she donned her outer caribou coat and trousers with fur facing out. Her double layer of arctic attire made her look bulky like a bear. It would keep her warm however, no matter how cold the outside temperature. In fact, the inner layer would soon become too warm and, with the exception of brutally cold days, she would have to exchange it for doeskins.
Emma poked her head out, and Mia too.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
Like a sleeping clutch of quail, the family had spent a restful night in their dome-shaped tent despite the winter cold. The tent, constructed of willow poles covered in high grade caribou skins was weathertight and strong enough to hold up under heavy snowfall. Presently the light of dawn filtered in through a translucent window made from bear intestine sewn in above the tent door. The door consisted of a heavy flap made from grizzly bear hide. Beneath the occupants an under-floor of un-scraped bull caribou hides lie covered by a top-floor of young bull fall caribou hides. Atop that, the family’s blankets were of cow caribou hides, specially tanned for softness and warmth. The family had also brought a few possum blankets. The continent's only marsupials were not native to the north but had migrated there over the millennia, and that was good because possum fur was not only extremely soft and warm but possessed therapeutic qualities that helped to prevent winter skin conditions like eczema. Of course the Kasskatchens did not understand the science, but they had discovered the benefit. And finally, helping to keep them warm as previously mentioned, a mat of spruce boughs between tent and ground served both as padding and insulation against the cold.
First out of the tent and into the dawn, John slung bow and quiver onto his back and set out on a quick scout of the immediate area. He went on foot which allowed Ellie to graze. He left his air rifle behind with the family, that they may have it to protect themselves in an emergency.
Laureal got a fire going, gathered more wood, and gave the dogs passed-over chunks of game meat. Jessie and Mia packed up the tent and its contents. Cody used the snow shovel to expose an area of thick grass the size of a driveway above the shoreline and, by such means, Ellie did not have to spend time shoveling with her feet but simply ate one mouthful after another. Emma and the twins prepared breakfast in the lean-to, into which the cook fire radiated its warmth.
John returned to camp without any game which was not a problem at that time, “Nothing much moving around out there.”
“Everything is holed up in this cold,” said Cody.
“Did you see any wolves?” Mia asked, suspecting, as did they all, that wolves had been watching since late the day before. Not watching constantly but rather, monitoring as wolves do. Wolves monitor the different animals and animal groups in their territory to see if there are any old, young, or injured animals to be had for dinner. By such means wolves keep tabs and howl to signal what they find. And the family had heard a wolf howling the night before.
“Only a single set of tracks,” John replied. And casually he added, “Probably a scout that checked us out and moved on.”
Emma sat stirring the breakfast porridge, “They’re more worried about us than we are about them.” Then, turning a warning eye on the children, “That isn’t to say they wouldn’t take the opportunity if presented, for they most certainly would!”
Nodding in agreement, John eyed the twins, “Wolves love to eat children, and, they doubly love to eat twins!”
“John!” Laureal chided.
Seating himself next to his wife, John widened his eyes at Noah and Sophie while making low growling sounds.
Laureal poked her fingers sharply into Johns’ ribs but to no avail, his heavy clothing having blunted her effort. Responding, John lifted his hands and, holding his fingers like claws, made fake growls as he pretended to maul Laureal, playfully, supposedly like a wolf eating a child. Not having it, Laureal fended him off. Then, eying him with disdain, she rejected him when he tried to give her a peck on the cheek.
Noah and Sophie, having been distracted by Emma, passed out wooden bowls and spoons, after which the family took turns ladling steaming helpings of porridge.
“Oh! This is good!”
“It certainly is!”
“Thank you,” said Emma, herself well pleased with it.
Fueled with hot porridge, John and Cody fetched Ellie, checked her hooves, loaded her packsaddle, and led her down the river bank. Simultaneously, the women cleaned dishes with snow and packed cooking gear away. The family then lowered the sled down the bank.
Mia and Laureal loaded the twins into their seats, then secured Ellie’s buffalo cloak. Mia and Emma had previously modified the cloak to keep the children warm while simultaneously keeping the giant from overheating.
John secured Ellie to her sled and, with everything set to go, took a moment to speak with his wooly companion, “Little girl, if need be, we’ll make you a pulling collar,” stroking her neck, visually examining the breast-strap he had modified for her, its purpose to spread the load evenly across her massive chest as she pulled the sled.
Next, John handed the lead rope to Cody, then turned to the twins, “How you two doing up there?” he asked, looking up at them.
“We’re good,” said Noah, sitting side by side with his sister, each of them looking out from hooded openings sewn into Ellie’s buffalo cloak like a pair of gables on the side of a hut. Around each of the hooded openings, a fox fur ruff disrupted the wind and helped to create a calm boundary around their little faces.
“Sophie, are you good?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? You weren’t so sure when we started out yesterday.”
“I’m okay now.”
“Do you think that maybe riding on Ellie could be fun?”
“Not for her,” quipped Noah, “she’s a scaredy-cat.”
“No I’m not!” Sophie rebutted.
“Be nice to your sister,” warned Mia, looking sternly at Noah. Then glancing at John, she rolled her eyes with a smile.
“Mom, are you ready?” asked Jessie, standing at the lead with spear in hand.
“We’re ready!” Laureal replied, as impatient as she was enthusiastic.
“Lead on,” ordered the Matriarch.
And they were off! But no more had they gotten underway when Emma called out, “Jessie.”
“Yes,” replied her daughter, turning to look at her mother even as she continued to walk on.
“Stay sharp!”
Jessie nodded, then turned back to the way ahead. She understood her mother’s warning all too well. The source of it had been permanently etched into her mind. The terrible suddenness with which disaster could strike, be it a flash flood, a shootout, or a fall through the ice. Thin spots in the ice, though far and few between, existed, and her job was to keep a sharp eye and ear out for the danger.
Yike and Nemo, unlike Chewy, were young dogs. They wagged their tails and tussled like pups even as they wore backpacks. Seemingly oblivious to danger, they loved to travel and they knew the way. A short distance behind Jessie, Mia had taken her new position for travel on the big river. Walking with a coil of rope on her shoulder and spear in hand, her job on the big river would be to act as a second pair of eyes and ears before the truly heavy weight came along, being that of the giant, bearing the children, pulling the sled, accompanied front and back by Cody and Emma.
John fell back a short distance to give himself a broader view of the family and their surroundings. To further advantage his field of view, he walked to one side the same as he had the day before.
Emerging from the protection of the forest, the family exited the little river to enter the confluence. From there the big river appeared a winter superhighway of fresh fallen snow. It stretched north to the horizon beneath a low cloud ceiling sharply defined by countless sagging bulges in near perfect symmetry. It was familiar territory. It was their territory, and still, it seemed like entering a different world. Meanwhile and unbeknown to them, a young she wolf watched from the land point of the confluence.
Hidden in the shadow of a black spruce, the wolf had looped around them to approach from downwind because the air, even in the morning calm, had a nearly indiscernible movement from north to south. Her position on a shelf predominantly of balsam firs served to mask her own scent in strong piney odor. The dogs never knew of her. John, however, ever scanning his surroundings, spotted her as he walked. And the wolf, knowing he had spotted her, did not run and hide but simply stared back.
Only a few days before, Summerfield would have shot any wolf for the sake of protecting the family, especially the children. Presently entering the wolf’s home turf and thinking they posed no serious threat, John saw no need to kill the animal which would only diminish his limited supply of ammunition. Still, he kept an eye on it and, seeing it look away, he followed its gaze to the distant shore where a second wolf stood in a stand of aspens. A big alpha male, it possessed a natural aura that spoke to strength and power. John could see and sense it even at a distance.
The two counterparts stared dead on at one another, neither showing an ounce of fear.
Suddenly, Laureal appeared like a young doe that springs from a bush, “What are you looking at?”
John jolted, then sighed in relief, “Damn…you scared me.”
“John! Don’t curse!” Then turning towards the aspens, “What were you looking at?”
“A wolf,” and seeing that the wolf had vanished, he turned to the land point only to see that the other wolf had also vanished. He then turned to Laureal, “What are you doing back here?”
“Saying ‘hi’ to you,” happily as they set to walking. “We’ve scarcely gotten two minutes alone since we left home.”
“The day is yet young.”
“Yes it is! And here we are, walking side by side.”
“You should be up there,” nodding to the tiny column.
“John, I want to stay back here with you.”
“No, you can’t,” shaking his head. “You’re distracting me.”
“Then stop looking at me and I’ll help you keep watch.”
“No.”
“John—,” pleadingly.
In silence they walked on until, at last, picking up her pace, Laureal began towards the others.
“Laureal,” John called after her. And getting no reply, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
“That’s alright John,” said Laureal, not bothering to look back. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
“It’s not like that and you know it!”
Laureal made no reply.
Exasperated, John glanced to the sky as if to ask why things couldn’t just be easy. But in truth, the low cloud blanket kept the temperature from dropping below zero. No wind blew. No snow fell. And the snow on the river lie dry, powdery, and easy to walk through. John Summerfield could scarcely have asked for better conditions.
John picked up his pace and, coming alongside his wife, “If you really want to…you can walk with me.”
Walking along, Laureal glanced at John with hurt eyes.
Rubbing his forehead in thought, John tried again, “Laureal, I’d like you to come back and walk with me…providing we do not allow ourselves to get distracted from watching over the family.”
“That’s alright, I know you want to walk alone.”
“I don’t want to walk alone.”
Then a few steps further on, “Laureal, please come back and walk with me.”
“Do you promise to be nice?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Mustering a little smile, “Four eyes are better than two.”
“Not in this case,” said Emma.
“Grandmother,” Laureal uttered, taken by surprise, as was John, for the old woman had closed on them with surprising speed.
“Come with me,” said Emma.
“But grandma, I…
“Do not ‘but grandma’ me!” came the sharp retort. “Granddaughter, what if there was an emergency and the twins needed unloading at once? Where would you be? You’d be in the wrong place! That’s where you’d be!”
Laureal, somewhat shaken, “I’m sorry, grandmother.”
“Apology accepted. Now go back to your station.”
With a long-faced glance at John, Laureal picked up her pace and returned to her place in the column.
Emma remained briefly walking with John, “My granddaughter is a wonderful young woman and, while I am very proud of her, I also know she is somewhat spoiled and…highly persuasive. She gets it from her mother, the persuasive part that is. Her grandfather and father are to blame for spoiling her.” Then, having walked a bit further in silence, Emma turned her piercing eyes on John, “Sir, you are our guard out here on the trail and, we depend on you.”
“I apologize,” contritely, “I let my guard down.”
“Apology accepted.” Then, walking a bit further, “Don’t be afraid to say ‘no’ to your wife,” and she went on ahead to her place at the back of the sled.
