JOURNEY TO THE MIDNIGHT SUN
James Sheldon
LOVE CONQUERS ALL
Book 1 of 3
Chapter 30
John soon stopped to remove layers of clothing, then continued on a southern heading, keeping to a route the family could follow. Snow fell from every branch he touched, and while it wasn’t wet snow, it seemed determined to tag along with him even as he did his best to avoid it.
Back at camp and approximately five stone throws into the wood, Laureal moved like a hungry cat, tired but aware, her eyes peeled for signs of red squirrels. Here and there she stopped to make a snare but mostly she looked for nut caches. She knew that red squirrels, unlike other squirrels, stashed all their nuts and seeds in one place called a midden. Hazelnuts and pine seeds, all excellent sources of healthy fats, protein, vitamins and minerals. Unfortunately, any cache she might find would be half empty, what with winter in its final months. Presently, a red squirrel dashed down a tree trunk and set to barking in protest. Laureal, digging its cache, stopped and drew her bow. No more had she taken aim though, than the animal ran around the opposite side of the trunk. Hidden from sight, it continued to bark at her, perhaps saying something like, “Hey, thief, I worked hard for those nuts and if you take them, I’m as good as dead.”
On the opposite side of camp, perhaps as far as six stone throws into the forest, Cody hunted for squirrel, snowshoe hare, and grouse. The type of grouse he hunted roosted not on limbs but under the snow. And spotting one of their burrows, Cody took off his mitts, crept up carefully, and pounced while thrusting his hands down into the snow. He missed by a hair and the bird burst from the snow in a flurry. The young hunter made a dive but it got away and he could only draw his bow and lay chase as it disappeared in the thick.
Just beyond the edge of camp, Jessie and Mia worked to harvest food from pine and birch trees. They stripped the coarse outer bark away, then peeled off the edible inner bark. The twins laid the bark in a pile, soon to be taken to camp and dried by the fire.
The women stopped feeding Ellie for fear that too much too quickly would make her sick. They treated the dogs in the same manner, giving them only a little to begin with. Yike and Nemo were not keen on the piney taste but slowly ate the bark out of starvation.
Returning to camp, Jessie checked on her mother and, seeing her sound asleep, turned her attention to maintaining the fire and drying out the bark. Thick clouds of steam came from every breath as she used John’s bucksaw to section a branch that, along with other dead branches, had been dragged into a pile on the edge of camp. Laureal appeared and, kneeling down, cleaned off a patch of packed snow in the cook area where she poured out the contents of a small bag.
“It’s not much, Mom.”
“That’s more than I expected at this time of year.”
“Should we roast them?”
“Yes, we’ll make bread cakes.” And turning to the children, “Noah, Sophie…can you shell those nuts for me?”
“Be very careful not to waste any, and don’t smash your fingers,” their mother instructed, setting the kids up to work with mortar and pestle.
Cody showed up next, “I wish I’d gotten more,” setting down two squirrels and one grouse.
“You did good, son. We’ll make a fine supper of it.”
“Mom—” painfully, as if everyone in the world knew it was not nearly enough to sustain five adults and two children living outdoors in the dead of winter.
“It will do, Cody. We will have meat and fowl, with rice, and flat bread with seeds and nuts baked in.”
So the pot was filled with snow and put on to boil. Laureal and Cody skinned and dressed out the squirrels and grouse. Jessie was the chef, overseeing and putting everything together. Mia ground baked strips of pine bark into powder as a kind of flour extender to be mixed with wheat flour and warm water to knead and make bread. Their fingers often aching in the cold, the family members periodically stopped to warm their hands over the fire.
Soon, when supper was ready, Jessie turned to wake Emma, “Mom.”
“Yes,” coming round slowly.
“How you feeling?”
“Tired.”
“Are you hungry?”
“A little.”
“Can you sit up? We’re ready to eat.”
“After eating a supper which, under the circumstances, tasted good if not a little piney, the family huddled around their fire sipping hot tea.
“I pray John has found the bog,” Emma murmured.
Cody lifted his eyes from his cup, “I hope he’s carving tenderloins off a moose, and at this time tomorrow, we will be having a banquet.”
Humble chuckles went round the fire, to which Mia added, “One thing’s for sure, when we get out of this, I never want to eat tree bark again.”
Tomorrow came and the family spent the morning gathering what food they could find. Emma remained in her lean-to before the fire. Jessie often stopped to check on her mother and, presently, finding her resting quietly, she turned to rummage through their food stores even though she knew there was next to nothing left.
“Jessie,” meekly.
“Yes Mother,” coming to her side.
“Where is everyone?”
“Cody’s hunting. Laureal’s checking snares and looking for nut caches. Mia and the twins are gathering tree bark, firewood, and whatever else they can find. How are you feeling?”
“Well…I am very sorry to say, I do not think I will be able to travel today.”
“There is no need for us to travel, Mom. John is certainly on his way back here. What do you want to bet he shows up this afternoon lugging a meat load.”
“Let us hope so.”
With a smile, Jessie returned to looking in food bags, hoping that perhaps she had missed something.
“What do we have?”
“A little rice and some wheat yet. We’ll have more food when Cody and Laureal return. And Mia is certain to have some tender bark to eat. Oh look! I found some breadroot!”
“Where?”
“In the fold of this bag.”
“Jessie.”
“What?”
“Come here for a moment, please.”
Jessie seated herself on the edge of Emma’s makeshift bed.
“I want you to know something,” taking her daughter’s hand. “It comforts me to know that when my time comes, our family will not perish because I have a daughter that is ready to take her place as Matriarch of the clan.”
“Mom,” as if in response to a ridiculous notion, “your ‘time’ is a long way off.”
“There are some things I wish I could do over…if only I could.”
“We do the best we can,” quoting one of her mother’s own sayings.
“I tried to do what I thought best, but if I had it to do over again, I would…”
“Mom,” cutting in, “don’t be hard on yourself.”
“Jessie,” visibly distraught, “if only I had I known the scar it would leave on your heart, I would have stood up for you.”
Never had Jessie seen her mother so frail and, all at the same time, so deeply earnest. “Mom, there’s no need to apologize.” And stroking her hand, “Now I want you to know something. I am certain that I could not have had a better mother. And you know what else? I’m not so sure that marrying Harley would have been a good thing. He was wilder than you know.”
Jessie sighed as she looked back in time, “It’s possible that, had Harley and I married, life may not have worked out as well as it did, but things did work out well, wonderfully well. I have two wonderful children, a wonderful son-in-law, and soon, God willing, my first grandchild.”
Jessie rose from the bed, “I’d better get back to work.”
“Sit down, please…I’m not finished.”
“Mom, everything is going to be fine,” protesting even as she obeyed.
“When you are Matriarch, you will have to make some difficult decisions.”
“I know, I’ve had a good teacher, and I’m thankful for it.”
Emma clutched her daughter’s hand, albeit without any real strength, “Jessie.”
“What is it, Mother?”
“If John fails, you cannot forsake the rest of the family for the sake of saving me.”
“Mom,” visibly upset, “you’re tired from fever, and thinking too much.”
“Please, this is important! If I am to die here, I want to know that you will not let my passing change anything regarding the rebuilding of our family.”
“Mom…please,” fighting back tears.
“Every great tree begins as a tiny seed, and that seed is in your daughter. Now please, promise me that you will continue with our plan to rebuild.”
“I promise, Mom,” wiping at tears. “I promise.”
Noontime came, and although none had expected to see John before then, the afternoon was spent in anticipation of his arrival. He never came, and a meager supper passed with few words until each family member, huddling around the fire, sunk into their own silent battle of hope and fear.
Then, as the light of day faded away, the figure of a man stepped out of the darkness, caked in ice and snow.
“John!” cried Laureal, quick to her feet.
Two days on the move without food and John scarcely had strength to hold Laureal in his arms, a situation she quickly reversed, “Let me help you,” taking his pack from his back and setting it beside the fire as a seat. Then, seating him on it, she took up the paddle-comb and carefully knocked and brushed at the ice and snow that caked him.
Jessie poured John a cup of hot tea and all watched as he took a sip. The firelight shone into his hood, illuminating his grave expression. His eyes to the fire, he appeared too exhausted to speak.
“Did you not find the bog?” Emma asked lowly.
John only shook his head.
“How can that be?” asked Cody in disbelief.
“I went many miles,” lifting his eyes to them, his countenance that of a defeated man, “I could find no stream, or lake, or end to these woods.”
Noah’s frightened little voice seemed almost birdlike, “What are we to do?”
“We have to go back the way we came,” John replied.
“I concur,” Jessie seconded, “we have no choice.”
Painfully, John laid out a last-ditch plan, “I will go ahead of us. With the trail already cut, I should make the river in three days. Trout are plentiful there…we know that much. I’ll load up a bag of them and head back this way. From your end, if Emma is up to it, you can slowly make your way back, traveling for half days, and foraging the other half.”
Laureal, who’d been scrounging what food she could for John, looked to her mother in silent horror. John was in no shape to travel another mile. A picture of depletion, he would certainly perish if he attempted to reach the river. Nearly in tears but unable to afford the luxury of crying, she returned to the business at hand, gathering up what she could before coming to his side.
“Eat this, darling,” handing him a small bowl of rice sprinkled with baked pine chips plus what few nuts and seeds remained.
“Eat slowly,” she added, watching his every move.
“John,” said Jessie.
“Yes,” looking up from his bowl.
“Before we do anything, you need to rest for a day or two.”
Returning his eyes to his bowl, John did not respond but as he ate in silence, everyone heard when Sophie turned to her mother and whispered, “Mommy, are we going to die?”
