Tor was grateful to the gods for the elk and what they had gathered at the salt lick and understood their wrath expressed by things like that mighty storm. Something they must learn from the gods instruction and prepare for. Part of their world created it, with all the ice, snow and water in its own time and way as all nature did, gave it a way or took it away from them.
As they trudged with their heavy loads on their path back towards the encampment, Tor tried to think of all the preparation they would have to do as the days grew rapidly shorter and colder. In the end, forcing them inside, in dirty, smoky, crowded shelter through the long months of cold, ice and snow. Disease striking them and sometimes, quarreling over nothing at all with unnecessary violence. At least that was his experience in winters past.
At least with the children and the old couple, I shouldn't have that to deal with, he thought, among other weighty things that a young man of his age should not have to think of. But I'm grateful for them. Without them I don't know how I would have made it through this coming winter alone. He smiled at his good fortune feeling the leaf dappled sun warm on his back, neck and shoulders for now.
Arriving, they found their newly adopted home was in shambles. All of the grain they had piled into drying stacks had been knocked down and some of the grain had been knocked off, spoiled on the ground. Their smoking hut for curing fish and meat had been destroyed and needed to be put back together. Some of the old, dead trees that still remained within the shelters had fallen and some had fallen on shelters. The gods had ordained that no one was hit by falling limbs, branches or tree trunks. But along with Alve, both Zan and Conie were injured by hail. It had ripped apart some of the huts until they were nothing but their support ribs of ancient dried willow wood bleached white by being exposed to the sun's bright light. Everything inside those was soaked from the heavy rain.
The water in the river rose overnight and was raging again. But two suns later, it was subsiding and the king salmon were in the midst of their run. This was the largest, up to 50 pounds a fish, of the three different species. All of them full of fat and excellent eating. All they had to do was go to the bank and they could see myriads of fins sticking from the water as the fish swam by upstream to lay their eggs and fertilize them before dying. Unfortunately, the dead fish weren't as good to eat. They had to be caught on their upstream swim while they were still strong and fat from the sea.
At this point on the river, not too far from the sea, the kings were in prime shape and so plentiful you could almost walk across the river on their backs. With long spears, Tor and the boys found a spot on a point and began spearing fish passing by and then, throwing them up on the bank where the girls took them to Dupree and Conie to be cut up into strips for smoking. Within two days, they had enough for the entire winter and were enjoying snacks from the tasty, smoked fish. Fresh fish over the fire at night. Salted for even better flavor.
It took another two days of finding enough wood needed to smoke all of those fish which had to last the entire winter. And then, It was time to return to other tasks. The sheafs of wheat, barley and oats were brought to the grinding stones where beating with branches separated the grain from the chaff and straw. Conie had to show the girls how to do this and then to grind the seeds on grinding stones that were left by the marauders because they were too heavy to carry. While wheat was unfamiliar to the Danis, the northern grains, barley and oats, grew wild and were harvested by them. They had never experienced wheat bread. Tor had to show them the way his mother made it, with salt as one of the ingredients along with animal fat.
All around, the trees were changing color except for the evergreen pines, spruces and furs. They provided an interesting contrast to the brilliant colors of the maple and oaks. Especially the bank across the river in the late afternoon ablaze with flame in the rays of the setting sun. Sometimes reflected in the cold blue waters so often filled with spawning fish.
Elk, deer, goats, pigs and other animals came down to the river almost daily to drink and to even wash off in the cool water. Migrating waterfowl routinely stopped in the river to rest and feed for their long journey south to places as far as the tip of Africa that no one watching knew where they were going or how far it was. Tor routinely shot them with his accurate arrows, while the boys missed and had to go in swimming to retrieve their arrows in the cold water, learning to be more accurate in the process.
Ducks and geese, along with venison and pork, added to the massive meals they would have in the evening, fattening up for the cold winter and deprivation they knew would come. One never knew how much food to put away for winter. Sometimes it lasted well into the time when meat would be plentiful again, sometimes not. It was clear that only after a year, while game around the encampment had been scarce, it had come back plentifully again. A lesson to be learned.
During the day when most of the animals were sleeping, Tor and the boys would range widely with bows and arrows mounted to their backs gathering wood to bring back and store with a long winter ahead. It was best when covered over and broken up into smaller burnable pieces. Once in a while during honoring the gods and other festivals, large logs were burned. For that, Tsen was indispensable. In fact, he made all of the gathering much easier than it ever had been before for Tor and the others. The Thal community, the way it was before when there were so many to feed was much harder. Every time he thought of it, the boy in him cried. Oh how they would've loved to have had a horse like Tsen to gather wood back then. Like all animals, Tsen was growing a heavy coat of winter hair to keep him warm.
Every once in a while, during some of the warmest days, Tor would find himself hunting beside an opening in the forest with the sun streaming down through the dust of ages floating in the listless air. Bees would be buzzing about and butterflies flitting from flower to flower. Occasionally, a deer would appear or two. He could sit for hours watching a doe watching over her fawn. But always had to be ready to kill that fawn's father if he came into view.
Those from the Danis Clan had left without retrieving any of their furs. While Tor picked up two prime ones coming back through their encampment that weren't infested with maggots from rotting blood, there was a great need for warm clothing. So he and the boys had to kill more furry animals than they would be able to eat throughout the winter. Every animal seemed to have a special fur that worked best. Rabbits had some of the softest fur for lining bullets, mittens and boots. Deer hide worked best for leather clothing and bear skin was some of the warmest.
Still, on that first chill night after they came back from the storm at the salt lick, an hour after Tor had fallen asleep exhausted, he awoke to a small squeaky voice near his ear. It wasn't a mouse but a familiar one. "Tor, can I join you under the covers? I'm cold? I used to sleep with my mommy but she's gone…" She started to cry.
Tor finally gave in. "You can come in if you like, but don't keep me awake, I'm very tired."
Zan crawled in quickly and clasped her skinny arms around Tor's chest. It took him longer to get back to sleep with her heart beating so evenly against him and her body so warm. Eventually, he did.
On the next cold spell, Zan must've told her about it, because Kyth was with her. With them against both sides, he could hardly turn without disturbing them, but they didn't seem to mind. After he got used to them, knowing that he was not going to have sex, he began to warm on the idea of them sleeping with him and he knew that Dupree and Conie would be pleased when the girls told them. He wouldn't.
When the red salmon ran, the last of the salmon runs, a bear came into view close to the camp. Tor took the boys and they surrounded the large male as it was fishing in their favorite spot. It took seven arrows and two thrown obsidian knives but they did the job. Even though he charged three times, he could only chase one at a time. In the bloody end they had a great bear robe for winter, claws for piercing leather and sewing, and lots of meat and fat.
This time, Tor told Thad, "You threw the knife that killed this bear!" Knowing that Thad was very proud of that obsidian knife that he found. Alve didn't have one. A bit upset that Alve made the first kill of that elk. They had been involved in all the killings since. With a group effort. Tor was able bring down large animals quicker with less pain. He hated them suffering before sacrificing them to the gods and men with their meat, fur and blood.
It was about this time that they woke up to a very chilly morning with frost on everything. A sure sign that winter would be there soon. It was a time to stay in by the fire, sharpen their knives, repair and make arrows, tell stories, and enjoy the benefits of their hard work. Before long, snow would follow.
Copyright 2020 © Ronald W. Hull
12/7/20
