Draft -Endangered Part One -A Short Story by Sandra Bunting
She had been watching the hole so long that her toes had frozen. The cold numbed her brain, shutting it down bit by bit. So when the seal popped up for air, she got a fright and the opportunity was lost. Her lonely vigil would have to begin once again. The hole offered the only relief from a landscape of frozen white and was hypnotic. The deep water appeared black, almost inviting, like an entry to a new world. Avikitik imagined splashing into the pool to swim under the frozen covering, down to a world of colours reflected through the ice: chilly blues, muted pinks, gentle mauves and soft greys broken only by shadowy shapes of sea creatures sliding by. She would swim with the seals and learn the magic of play. Faint underwater music lulled her as she became lost in that world.
Out of the corner of her eye, however, Avikitik saw the quick movement of a seal breaking through the hole to breathe. She was ready this time. Working on reflex, she ignored the liquid stare of the eyes and raised her sharp bone spear. The muscles in her naked body tensed as all her strength was used to send the weapon through the throat of the animal. Beautifully executed, she could not allow herself to rest or the seal would slide into blackness and be lost forever. Using the spear that went clean through the animal�s neck, she laced a sinew around it and hauled the bulky form up and out. The seal�s weight threatened to pull her in the sea at one point but she heaved as hard as she could. It landed on her as she toppled back into the snow. Pushing it off, she stretched her squat brown body and stood up searching the snow for signs of life. Where were her grandfather and mother? She could do with some help dragging the carcass back to their camp.
A dreamer they used to call her. Now all that time watching her father and brother had proved invaluable. She could now do a man�s work, necessary if the family was to survive. Now there would be seal blubber in which to coat their bodies in protection from the cold. Blubber to burn in the little lanterns they had made out of bone. Liver and other organs to be eaten raw, the other flesh dried in slender strips for later. With a fish, or perhaps a bird, they could survive. Then there was the pelt to use as a blanket at night.
There was no sign of her grandfather or mother. Avikitik began hauling the carcass towards where she thought they were. She hoped her grandfather would not balk at preparing the seal, what he considered women�s work. Her mother couldn�t be counted on as she was heavily pregnant. Her belly had swelled to twice its size in the time they waited for her father and brother to come back from a fishing expedition. The last of the meat had been consumed. With her grandfather now old and weak, Avikitik had taken on the masculine task of hunting. They should have moved from this sight but had stayed to wait for the men's fishing expedition.
It was hard pulling the seal. She had to stop often, looking back at the streak of red that led from the black water hole. No one could be seen until she was almost next to them. He grandfather had dug a hole in the snow and covered it with seal hides. He was doing what he could to help his daughter-in-law through labour. If he was embarrassed, he didn�t show it. Akikitik, glad that he had taken charge because she wouldn�t know what to do, fought her tiredness and started processing the seal.
She opened it up and extracted organs, putting them into a large wooden bowl. Cutting off thin slices, she fed them to her mother for strength. Then she gave some to her grandfather. Sliding a small piece into her mouth and chewing, she worked to carve up the carcass. Because light was fading, she buried the food in three separate piles. She dug another hole for the hide, sinew and bones.
A moan carried over the snow. The baby was coming. Although exhausted, Avikitik went over to lend a hand, to let her grandfather have a rest. Sweat poured off her mother�s brow as she squirmed in pain. Teeth clenched and face reddened, a shape formed between her mother�s legs. With the next grunt, a head emerged, black hair pasted down. She guided the rest out of her mother�s now tiring body. It was a boy: its genitals red and enlarged for its tiny form.
Avikitik cleaned her new brother with snow, holding it close to her chest to keep him warm as she cut the cord with a bone knife. Then she rubbed seal blubber over him to protect him from the cold before placing the child on the chest of her sleeping mother.
Her grandfather was shivering.
�I�m cold,� he said.
�That� s our life,� she replied.
�I don�t think your father and brother are coming back,� he said. �We were lucky to get that seal today. We have to leave soon for a place with more food.�
Avikitik agreed. �But we have a little life to look after. It won�t be easy.�
The Grandfather took her hand. �My strength has drained away. We should find you a husband.�
Looking into the distance, the grandfather said:
�I have heard there are people in the north. I have never met them. We had enough of our own before. It may be a myth but it�s worth a try.�
Avikitik stood up.
�I have learned things from my father. I am strong. I don�t need a husband yet.�
But the Grandfather did not agree.
�Our People has to continue.�
Avikitik�s mother had lost a lot of blood and was weak for travelling. She was left to rest with the baby as Avikitik and her grandfather prepared packages of food to be carried on their backs.The wind came up and the normally blue sky faded to grey. The grandfather had seen the signs before. They had to find another place to stay before the storm hit full force.
They gave themselves a new coating of seal blubber and rolled up the skins, still bloody from her mother�s birthing but too valuable to be left behind. They tied the packages and skins to their backs. Avikitik took the baby because her mother was still weak and would need all her energy to look after herself.
Starting off down the coast, they found it difficult to distinguish where land and sea stopped or ran into each other. Packed snow reached as far as they could see.
Copyright Sandra Bunting
To Be Continued
Out of the corner of her eye, however, Avikitik saw the quick movement of a seal breaking through the hole to breathe. She was ready this time. Working on reflex, she ignored the liquid stare of the eyes and raised her sharp bone spear. The muscles in her naked body tensed as all her strength was used to send the weapon through the throat of the animal. Beautifully executed, she could not allow herself to rest or the seal would slide into blackness and be lost forever. Using the spear that went clean through the animal�s neck, she laced a sinew around it and hauled the bulky form up and out. The seal�s weight threatened to pull her in the sea at one point but she heaved as hard as she could. It landed on her as she toppled back into the snow. Pushing it off, she stretched her squat brown body and stood up searching the snow for signs of life. Where were her grandfather and mother? She could do with some help dragging the carcass back to their camp.
A dreamer they used to call her. Now all that time watching her father and brother had proved invaluable. She could now do a man�s work, necessary if the family was to survive. Now there would be seal blubber in which to coat their bodies in protection from the cold. Blubber to burn in the little lanterns they had made out of bone. Liver and other organs to be eaten raw, the other flesh dried in slender strips for later. With a fish, or perhaps a bird, they could survive. Then there was the pelt to use as a blanket at night.
There was no sign of her grandfather or mother. Avikitik began hauling the carcass towards where she thought they were. She hoped her grandfather would not balk at preparing the seal, what he considered women�s work. Her mother couldn�t be counted on as she was heavily pregnant. Her belly had swelled to twice its size in the time they waited for her father and brother to come back from a fishing expedition. The last of the meat had been consumed. With her grandfather now old and weak, Avikitik had taken on the masculine task of hunting. They should have moved from this sight but had stayed to wait for the men's fishing expedition.
It was hard pulling the seal. She had to stop often, looking back at the streak of red that led from the black water hole. No one could be seen until she was almost next to them. He grandfather had dug a hole in the snow and covered it with seal hides. He was doing what he could to help his daughter-in-law through labour. If he was embarrassed, he didn�t show it. Akikitik, glad that he had taken charge because she wouldn�t know what to do, fought her tiredness and started processing the seal.
She opened it up and extracted organs, putting them into a large wooden bowl. Cutting off thin slices, she fed them to her mother for strength. Then she gave some to her grandfather. Sliding a small piece into her mouth and chewing, she worked to carve up the carcass. Because light was fading, she buried the food in three separate piles. She dug another hole for the hide, sinew and bones.
A moan carried over the snow. The baby was coming. Although exhausted, Avikitik went over to lend a hand, to let her grandfather have a rest. Sweat poured off her mother�s brow as she squirmed in pain. Teeth clenched and face reddened, a shape formed between her mother�s legs. With the next grunt, a head emerged, black hair pasted down. She guided the rest out of her mother�s now tiring body. It was a boy: its genitals red and enlarged for its tiny form.
Avikitik cleaned her new brother with snow, holding it close to her chest to keep him warm as she cut the cord with a bone knife. Then she rubbed seal blubber over him to protect him from the cold before placing the child on the chest of her sleeping mother.
Her grandfather was shivering.
�I�m cold,� he said.
�That� s our life,� she replied.
�I don�t think your father and brother are coming back,� he said. �We were lucky to get that seal today. We have to leave soon for a place with more food.�
Avikitik agreed. �But we have a little life to look after. It won�t be easy.�
The Grandfather took her hand. �My strength has drained away. We should find you a husband.�
Looking into the distance, the grandfather said:
�I have heard there are people in the north. I have never met them. We had enough of our own before. It may be a myth but it�s worth a try.�
Avikitik stood up.
�I have learned things from my father. I am strong. I don�t need a husband yet.�
But the Grandfather did not agree.
�Our People has to continue.�
Avikitik�s mother had lost a lot of blood and was weak for travelling. She was left to rest with the baby as Avikitik and her grandfather prepared packages of food to be carried on their backs.The wind came up and the normally blue sky faded to grey. The grandfather had seen the signs before. They had to find another place to stay before the storm hit full force.
They gave themselves a new coating of seal blubber and rolled up the skins, still bloody from her mother�s birthing but too valuable to be left behind. They tied the packages and skins to their backs. Avikitik took the baby because her mother was still weak and would need all her energy to look after herself.
Starting off down the coast, they found it difficult to distinguish where land and sea stopped or ran into each other. Packed snow reached as far as they could see.
Copyright Sandra Bunting
To Be Continued
posted by sandbunting @ 2:51 PM
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