Christopher Dinsdale's Historical Adventures 4-Book Bundle. Christopher Dinsdale
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of euphoria. Freedom! Chocan and the elders had checked the damaged bone in her lower leg. They all agreed that her leg was healing well, but they warned her not to do anything too strenuous until at least the next new moon. Kiera thanked everyone for their kindness. She silently vowed that she would somehow pay them back for their care.
During the next week, with her limited mobility, Kiera did her best to help the Beothuck in any way she could. She worked alongside the women of her band, preparing the huge dinners for what seemed like an endless parade of hungry mouths. She also made sure the cooking fires were properly stoked with fuel. During the rare quieter times, she would play with and help supervise the many children. They loved her strange but exciting games and stories. They would giggle at her mispronunciations of the Beothuck language and would limp teasingly around with her as she did her chores.
Little Shawnadit was never far from her side. After a day of shadowing, Shawnadit had finally broken her self-imposed silence. Kiera was amazed how a little girl could go from a mute to a torrent of talk so quickly. Together they shared their different worlds, keeping both of their minds far away from their mutual inner pain. It warmed Kiera's heart to see the little girl brighten with each passing day. As they took turns stirring the soup, Kiera lifted Shawnadit onto her lap.
“Have you seen the Great Herd, Shawnadit?”
The little girl's eyes went wide. “They are big and loud.”
“I've never seen caribou before. I'm a little scared.”
Shawnadit took her hand and squeezed it. “Don't be scared. I'll be here with you.”
“You'll look after me? When the herd arrives, you'll hold my hand again like you're doing right now?” asked Kiera.
Shawnadit nodded.
“Thank you. You're a good friend.”
Shawnadit smiled, pleased that she could be of help.
Kiera was glad to have the company of Shawnadit and the other children. Chocan had disappeared down the swirling river with several canoes full of men to do last-minute repairs on the herding fence. Sooleawaa was busy preparing the hiding places from which the Beothuck would launch their attack against the herd of caribou. Thankfully, Kiera was able to put aside her thoughts of Ireland and allow herself to be consumed by the focused energy of the Beothuck nation. Tension and excitement radiated throughout the entire gathering. The Great Herd would soon be arriving.
Early the next morning, shouts of excitement snapped everyone awake from their restless sleep. Heads turned. Fingers were pointing northward. The most distant pillar of smoke, only a thin smear against the morning twilight, was different from the others. Instead of a constant thin stream of grey rising slowly skyward into the calm air, it was a series of grey puffs. As Kiera rubbed her eyes, stood up and joined everyone else's gaze towards the horizon, the second furthest stream of smoke changed as well to a pattern of puffs. Sooleawaa, now fully awake, grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her excitedly.
“The signal! They are coming! Praise the Great Spirit! Quick! We must hurry!”
Sooleawaa hauled Kiera up by the hand and literally dragged her through the excited crowd.
“So early in the morning!” Sooleawaa yelled over her shoulder. “Never before have they arrived at this time. We must be ready, or all will suffer!”
Kiera could see the near-panic in the faces of her adopted family members as they scampered about, grabbing weapons and stone knives. She limped along as fast as she was able.
Sooleawaa stopped in front of her band's collection of spears, stone blades and quivers of arrows. Men and women cut in front of them running towards the river. The entire village was near pandemonium.
“You have said you are a good fighter.” Sooleawaa pointed her finger down at the weapons. “Help us.”
Kiera looked questioningly at the selection in front of her. “I don't suppose you have a good, solid broadsword hiding underneath all of those spears?”
Sooleawaa shot her a puzzled look. “Broadsword?” She reached down. “Here, take Chocan's bow and quiver.”
Kiera shrugged. “What's a quiver?”
Sooleawaa passed her a birch bark quiver filled with ten arrows and a strung bow. She also grabbed a quiver and bow for herself.
Sooleawaa waved her arm forward. “Quickly! Follow me! We don't have much time.”
Together they weaved through the panicked encampment and away from the river. They stopped at the edge of the forest.
“Do you see the big tree?”
Kiera looked at a massive cedar at the edge of the forest that pointed heavenward into the brightening sky. She nodded, wondering what the tree had to do with the approaching herd.
Sooleawaa explained. “Its trunk is the size of a caribou.”
“It can't be true.” Kiera stared at the massive girth of the tree. How big were these animals going to be?
Sooleawaa pointed to Kiera's bow. “Now practice. Hit the tree with an arrow.”
“All right,” said Kiera, removing an arrow from the quiver and holding it in her hand. “How do you throw it?”
Sooleawaa, shocked at first, giggled. “You don't throw it. You shoot it with your bow. Watch me.”
Sooleawaa expertly loaded her bow with an arrow, pulled it back, aimed and let go. The arrow zipped through the crisp air. It hit the tree with a smack and stuck, firmly wedged in a knot that marked the exact centre of the trunk. She pointed her bow at Kiera. “Now you try.”
Kiera fumbled with the arrow. As she tried to thread it onto the string, her fingers became tangled in the bowstring, which allowed the arrow to slip out of her hand. The stone arrowhead bounced off her big toe.
“Ow!” Kiera angrily hopped on the other foot, rubbing her toe. She looked at her friend in frustration. “What about a small wooden spear? You must at least have a spear somewhere around here.”
Sooleawaa grinned. “Spear? No. An arrow is much better for a caribou.”
Kiera rolled her eyes. “All right, then, no spears. How about a nice solid cooking pot? I've been known to knock out a vicious animal or two with one of those.”
“I would very much enjoy seeing you attack a caribou with a cooking utensil,” giggled Sooleawaa, “but I have promised the elders that I would keep you out of trouble. Please, try again.”
Sooleawaa stepped behind Kiera to help her load the arrow onto the bow. She then showed Kiera how to pull back the string with two fingers and demonstrated how to look down the shaft of the arrow to aim at the target. Finally, she explained how to compensate for the drop in the arrow by aiming it slightly above the target.
Kiera tried again. The first few arrows were launched successfully, but they sailed harmlessly wide of the target. With each shot, Sooleawaa had to run into the woods to locate the missing arrow. A good arrow and arrowhead, she explained, represented almost a week of labour.
On the eleventh shot, Kiera nicked the side of the tree. It was on the twentieth shot, however, that Kiera finally stuck one into the heart of the cedar. Both women whooped for joy. Four out of the next five shots then found their mark.
Sooleawaa looked over her shoulder towards the river. Five of the seven fires indicated the Great Herd had passed by. Only the nearest two had not yet seen it. The caribou were almost upon them.
“We must go now.”
Kiera had been focusing so much on her archery that she hadn't noticed the growing silence behind her. As she surveyed the open flat towards the river, she was amazed to see that the entire village had virtually disappeared. All the hut-like mamateeks had been reduced to heaps that resembled jumbled driftwood.