Читать книгу Christopher Dinsdale's Historical Adventures 4-Book Bundle - Christopher Dinsdale - Страница 7

After a twenty minute, bone-jarring drive, the pickup finally came to a stop in front of a massive stump that signalled the end of the muddy path. The word “road” was simply too good a name for what now lay behind them. Uncle Matthew helped Jesse secure his pack and sleeping bag onto his back with several tightenings of the straps. He then grabbed a smaller pack, his rifle and sleeping bag for himself. Lastly, he tossed a compass to Jesse. Jesse had never seen a compass before. He turned it upside down and gently shook it, hoping it might do something exciting. It didn't. His actions only caused a small metal needle to spin round and round inside a clear liquid.

“Hang the compass around your neck,” his uncle ordered. “It might just save your life.”

Jesse slung the compass round his neck and tucked it into his shirt. He was surprised to see Jason walk away from the truck with only the clothes on his back. His uncle waved them forward, and together they marched off into the pristine forest.

Jesse was swallowed by an enormous, emerald chamber brimming with sensations. The air on the forest floor was still, but a restless summer breeze rustled the leafy canopy to a rhythm like distant ocean swells. His nose twitched at the musky, fresh scent of ferns and fallen foliage. The surrounding stillness was punctuated by the machine gun chattering of squirrels and the almost painful whining of invisible cicadas.

Something in the air encouraged Jesse to breathe more deeply, and with each breath, Jesse's thoughts became more alert. The forest wasn't anything like what he had expected. He stumbled along at a jogging pace in order to keep up with the long, sure strides of his uncle and cousin.

After several minutes, Jesse realized that his uncle had forgotten a cooler full of food for the trip. He looked over his shoulder. The truck was now well out of sight. The forest had enveloped them completely.

Jesse ran to catch up. “Uncle Matthew?”

His uncle slowed his pace. “Yes, Jesse?”

“I think we forgot the food in the truck.”

Uncle Matthew eyed Jesse. “Why carry food when we are surrounded by it?”

Jesse glanced around. “I don't see any food. I just see trees.”

“That's because you are not really seeing the forest for what it is. Once you become part of this world, it is then easy to find ways to stay alive. But that only comes with understanding and an open mind. I think you'll soon see what I mean.”

Jesse rubbed his rumbling middle. “Are you saying we have no food?”

His uncle smiled. “We have plenty of food. It's just not in our backpacks.”

“Then what about dinner?” Jesse protested. He noticed the flashes of sun through the leaves were moving slowly towards the horizon.

“We'll have dinner after we get to the other side of that ridge,” he replied, pointing to an approaching hill.

“Great,” thought Jesse, “I'm going to have a bark and worm sandwich for dinner.” He would have made a run for the road that led back to the gas station if he had had any clue as to where the road might be located. They were not following a path. Everything looked the same to him. He pulled out the compass and stared at the swinging needle. Nowhere on the plastic surface was there a word marked “road”.

“Useless piece of junk,” Jesse grumbled. “How could it ever save my life?”

He shoved the compass back into his shirt. He decided not to think about his growling stomach by changing the topic.

“Uncle Matthew, I don't see a path. How do you know where we're going?”

Uncle Matthew paused and looked around the majestic forest. “I grew up in these woods, Jesse. I know almost every hill, every creek and every trail by heart. This is what you would call my backyard. In fact, when we were kids, your dad and I often played in these woods for hours. We would also help your grandfather take guests on hunting and fishing trips, just like I do today.”

“Dad walked through these woods too?” whispered Jesse.

He nodded. “I often feel your father among these trees and animals. The memories of us together here are so strong. This is where I come on those days when I miss your father. And with you here now, well, I know he's smiling on both of us. He wanted you to experience what he experienced as a child.”

His father was here? Jesse's skin felt cold, even in the humid, still air. The questions he had held back for so long now flooded his mind. He fought with all of his strength to hold back the tears he could feel quickly building in his eyes. Jesse had to ask.

“Why did you wait so long to see me?”

His uncle sighed. “Your dad wanted it that way. He saw too many children like you being torn between the two different worlds of their parents and not really fitting into either one. Your mother was born and raised in the city. She had her family there to help look after you, and that is where she was happy. Your dad felt you would learn your place in their world and be happy, too. He didn't want you to come here until you were at an age when you would appreciate his culture, and hopefully not reject it. He wanted you to be twelve before you took your first trip to Six Islands.”

Jesse was beginning to understand, but he still felt hurt. “Didn't you want to see me before now?”

Uncle Matthew put a hand on Jesse's shoulder. “I loved my brother very much, Jesse. And yes, I wanted to visit you and watch my brother's son mature and grow. But I understood what your father was trying to do. Childhood is such a confusing time. He didn't want to increase the burden upon you. Losing a dad is hard enough. Remember, you are my brother's son, not mine. It is not my place to question his judgment when it comes to the raising of his child.”

Jesse thought about what his uncle had just told him. Suddenly, the forest didn't seem so foreign. He pictured his father walking through these very same woods with his brother, just as he was doing with his cousin and uncle right now. He didn't know why, but the plants and ground seemed to suddenly radiate a warm glow. His body started to relax. His father had actually enjoyed this sort of stuff! Jesse decided to try and get into the spirit of things…that is, once his stomach stopped growling.

They set up camp in a clearing by the edge of a gurgling creek that stitched its way through the fabric of the green forest. Uncle Matthew was hoisting trout after trout from the creek, as if the fish bit onto the hook by command. Jason was busy rearranging the stones of an old fire pit, while Jesse was given the task of collecting dry twigs and branches. Jesse dropped another load of sticks in front of Jason, who crouched as he organized the tinder. Jason waved him down and Jesse, tired from the long walk, thankfully collapsed onto his knees.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to see an old Indian fire-making trick?”

“Sure,” replied Jesse.

Jason grinned. “Now watch carefully.”

Jason brought his two hands close together. Starting slowly at first, he began to rub his palms together, gradually picking up speed. Jesse was amazed at the concentration on Jason's face. The hands were now a blur, and Jason's breath grew ragged.

“Almost…there,” he grunted.

Jesse jumped back as a flash of flame leapt skyward. A small, orange fire burned like magic from the skin of Jason's cupped hands!

“Whoa!” yelped Jesse, as he watched the flame suddenly disappear, not believing his eyes. “How did you do that?”

“I told you,” said Jason innocently, “it's an ancient secret. I can't go just around telling everyone.”

“Please?” begged Jesse.

Jason looked at him suspiciously. “Can I trust you to keep a secret?”

“Sure! Tell me!”

Jason paused. “All right, then. Put your hands like this.”

Jesse cupped his hands as Jason directed.

“Start slowly and rub your hands back and forth. Speed up the rubbing, that's it. Good. Now go as fast as you can!”

Jesse winced. His hands were starting to hurt from the rubbing. “I can't go any faster. What do I do now?”

“Now for the most important step. Ready?”

“Yes, I'm ready!”

“Flick the lighter.”

Jesse froze. “What?”

Jason opened up his hand. Sitting inside his cupped palm was a disposable lighter.

“Flick the lighter, see?”

The lighter burst into the same orange flame that Jesse had seen earlier. Jason collapsed onto his side, laughing.

“Oh, man, I got you good!” howled Jason. “You should've seen your face!”

Jesse didn't know whether to feel angry or amused. Seeing his cousin rolling around on the ground tipped the balance. Jesse broke into a grin.

“You're an idiot!” he growled and playfully pushed his cousin back into the dirt. “I'll never believe another word you say!”

The laughter broke Jesse's sombre mood, and the two boys chatted about the Toronto Maple Leafs, school and the fact that they both liked to play lacrosse. Jesse was amazed by how quickly he took to his cousin. Usually shy, it sometimes took weeks before he would joke around with a new friend.

Within minutes, the fire was burning brightly, and Jason went to get drinking water from a shallow well that had been dug near the creek. Jesse wandered over to his uncle and watched as he expertly cut open and cleaned the half-dozen trout. Noticing Jesse turning pale at the sight of the gutted fish, he pointed him in the direction of a small clearing and a patch of raspberry bushes. Jesse, bag in hand, was put in charge of foraging for their dessert.

After a delicious dinner of pan-fried fish, boiled knotweed root and raspberries, Uncle Matthew produced a bag of hot chocolate powder. As they chatted and sipped the warm drink, darkness seeped into the forest. By the light of the fire, they spread out the sleeping bags in a circle around the burning timber. Soon they were lying back, looking up at the stars that blinked on and off through the gently rustling leaves. Flames from the fire seemed to bring the swaying branches to life. The surrounding limbs and leaves danced fiercely to the flickering orange tempo. The show was hypnotizing.

Uncle Matthew broke the spell. “Tomorrow we will hike to another site. It is a site of our ancestors. It was a place that your father held close to his heart. Before he became sick, he told me that he was looking forward to taking you there himself.”

“Why was it so special to him?” asked Jesse.

Uncle Matthew poked at the glowing ashes of the fire. “It will be easier for you to see for yourself. You'll have to wait until tomorrow.”

Jesse rolled to face his uncle. “I remember mom telling me that my dad's family was from Quebec. Why would his ancestors be found here, near Georgian Bay?

“The world is always changing,” explained Uncle Matthew, “and things have not always been as you see them today. Our people, the Wendat, once lived in this area.”

“Wendat?” asked Jesse. “I thought our ancestors were Huron.”

“It was the European explorer Champlain who mistakenly called us Huron. Before the Europeans arrived, we were a strong nation located in many villages throughout this area. Our territory stretched between the shores of Georgian Bay to the edge of Lake Simcoe. We had our own government, grew our own food and traded with neighbouring nations. For many years, our people lived in happiness and peace.”

“Then how did our ancestors end up in Quebec? That's like a thousand kilometres away from here.”

“First contact, Jesse,” said Jason. He looked like a spirit himself with his face swimming in the flickering orange light of the fire. “The Europeans wiped us out.”

“You mean with guns?” asked Jesse, not sure if he would like the answer.

“If only it had been guns. It would have been a lot more humane,” groaned Jason, as he rolled onto his back, his gaze drifting skyward.

Jesse looked to his uncle. “What Jason means is that when Europeans first arrived in North America, they brought with them many terrible diseases. In the twenty years after Champlain first came to our nation, measles, small pox and the flu killed over half of our people. Our elders, being the most frail, were the first to die.”

“But I've had the flu,” argued Jesse. “Sure, I had a fever and felt terrible for a couple of days, but it didn't kill me. How could it wipe out half of our ancestors?”

Uncle Matthew sighed. “You have to remember that the flu has now been in North America for over four hundred years. Those of us who have survived have now built up a resistance to the disease. But our ancestors had never experienced such diseases. An inconvenience to the newcomers proved to be deadly for us. Yes, it was a long and painful death for many of our people.”

“It was also the death of our culture as well,” added Jason. “We didn't have a written language, so we didn't keep historical records in books or on paper. All of our history was kept in the memories of our elders. How to make certain medicines, when to plant crops, the detailed history of our people…Lots of important information died with our elders.”

Uncle Matthew looked from Jason to Jesse. “The Wendat people went from a population of thirty thousand to a population of seven thousand within one generation. I can't even imagine the sadness our people must have felt.”

Jesse was horrified by what he had just been told. “I never knew that my mom's ancestors killed so many of my dad's ancestors.”

Uncle Matthew shook his head sadly. “You can't blame your mother for history that happened long ago.”

“What happened to the Wendat after the sickness?”

“The Europeans used the deadly outbreaks to convince us that our ways of living were wrong. They said that the diseases were the result of our way of life and our native customs. They said that in order for us to live, we must allow them to teach us their ways and believe in their religion.”

“That's so cruel!” exclaimed Jesse. “I hope the Wendat people didn't listen.”

“You have to understand, Jesse. They were scared. Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers and cousins were dying all around them. When they saw that the Europeans were not dying of these same diseases, they were willing to believe that the Europeans were right in what they had said. They thought that the diseases must be some kind of punishment. I can't really blame them. Can you?”

“No,” muttered Jesse, “I guess not.”

Jesse rolled his head back onto his pillow and yawned. No matter how hard he tried, Jesse could not keep his eyes open any longer. A gentle breeze brushed through his hair as his body went limp in his sleeping bag. His many questions dissolved into black as he was swept away by sleep. His uncle smiled at his nephew, and he pulled the edge of the bag up to Jesse's chin.

Jason threw another log onto the fire. “You never told him how our people ended up in Quebec, Dad.”

Uncle Matthew took the coffee pot off the fire. “Sometimes questions are answered all by themselves.”

Jason eyed his dad. “And what's that supposed to mean?”

“You and Jesse are both here for the same reason, to have your many questions answered. Be patient and look inside.” He tapped his chest. “The answers to many of life's questions already lie within your heart.”