THE LITTLEST WARRIOR AND HIS SUMMER HOME
The home in which the baby had been born was only a hut, built of
poles and sheets of bark. It was a fine house, though, for the time
and country. Its door was the hide of a caribou,--and how fearfully
that great hide flapped and bulged inward at the pressure of the night
winds. Fortunately the season was June, when the air was warm and the
sun shone almost every day.
When the littlest warrior was a few weeks old, he was put into a bag of
furry skins fastened to a light framework of wood. In this he rested
all day, in an upright position, sometimes against one of the poles of
the lodge, and sometimes on the back of his mother, or Blowing Fog, or
little Singing Bird.
He was a good baby, crying only when he was very hungry or when he was
bathed in the cold water of the river. He spent the greater part of his
time in sleep. Even when awake he did not seem to take much interest
in what went on around him; but this indifference to the world was
apparent in him only in his earliest days. At the age of two months
he began to show signs (so said his mother and Blowing Fog) of an
exceptional spirit and intellect; but, to the casual observer, it would
have seemed that he but howled with a more powerful voice and kicked
and struggled with lustier limbs.
It was only during the summer months--from May to October--that
Run-all-day and his family lived in the little clearing beside the
River of Three Fires. There was no other wigwam within ten miles of
them; for at this time the small tribes, or clans, of the north and
south, the east and west, were at peace with one another and so the
people did not have to band together, in villages, in self-defence.
Sometimes, during the summer, people of their own tribe passed up or
down the stream in front of their lodge, in skin-covered canoes of
unwieldy shapes.
Many of Run-all-day’s friends spent the summer months on the coast
of the great sea-bays, where they caught cod-fish to cure for winter
use. Some lived close to the great salt water all the year round, and
slaughtered a few of the hosts of seals that floated down from the
north, on the grinding ice-floes, early in the spring. Others, like
Run-all-day, pitched their summer lodges on the rivers and ponds,
moving southward and further inland, with the great herds of caribou,
at the approach of winter.
The hunting of the caribou began early in September, when the calves
of that year had grown strong enough to live independently of their
mothers. Several of the families returning from the bays, halted for
awhile in their journey and joined Run-all-day in the chase. Now the
youngest baby heard more noise than usual. Strange faces bent above him
and strange arms lifted him to feel his weight. Several cooking-fires
burned before the lodge; canoes of many models were drawn up on the
bank; everybody seemed to be happy and busy. But soon the caribou began
to travel southward, across the great barrens and through the low, dark
timber. Then dried fish and meat, skins and weapons were made into
packs, and canoes were launched and headed up stream.
Now the littlest warrior opened his eyes with more concern for the
everyday affairs of life. He cried less than ever before in his brief
career and smiled more readily. Even when he was placed in a canoe,
still in his fur bag, beside his mother, he did not make any violent
signs of objection. His father and all the family effects were at his
back. Close in front sat his three small brothers, and Singing Bird,
and in the bow old Blowing Fog plied a broad paddle.
Fortunately for all concerned, the canoe was both large and strong and
steady--a masterpiece among canoes. Run-all-day had built it during the
previous winter. He had planned a model for the frame to suit the size
of his family and had constructed it of light, well-seasoned spruce.
Being short of hides at the time, he had covered the frame with great
sheets of tough, white bark from the birch trees of the forest. This
bark was much lighter than caribou hides, and he had felt angry with
himself for never having thought to use it before in boat building.
For years, he had known that it was proof against water, for had it
not sheltered him ever since his birth, from rain and sleet? He had
stitched the seams with root-fibres and daubed them thoroughly with a
mixture of gum and fat.
Run-all-day’s friends had laughed at the new canoe and its builder, and
had advised the brave not to venture on the river in so novel a craft.
The whole world, they said, covered its canoes with skin; then why
should he do otherwise? But Run-all-day had hardened his heart against
their warnings and jeers and gone his own way; and it had proved to be
a right way.
Now a little fleet of six canoes toiled steadily up the river. Though
Run-all-day’s craft was larger and more heavily loaded than any, it
soon outdistanced them all. The brave, standing upright in the stern,
used a long pole and Blowing Fog dug vigorously at the water with her
broad paddle. Sometimes swift rapids churned and snarled in front of
them, defying them to ascend. Then all the bundles of fish and meat and
skins, the weapons and the children, had to be unloaded. Then the canoe
was lifted from the stream and carried along the shore, to the top of
the swift water, by Run-all-day and Blowing Fog. Everyone but the baby
helped to portage the cargo.
Shortly after sunset, Run-all-day’s canoe was run ashore at the edge
of a little meadow, again unloaded and lifted out of the water. Soon a
fire was lighted and the comforting fragrance of broiling venison stole
wide on the air. Dusk had fallen by the time the other voyagers reached
the camp.