Norseman Chief Read Online Free PDF Page B

but she was a beautiful woman despite the hard life Providence chose to lay upon her.  Lost in thought for a moment, I considered that maybe when the Christ came to my dream, he led me to her.  Perhaps Hurit was to be my wife and the mother of my children.  Leif told me I needed to stay behind in Leifsbudir all those years ago in order to find my woman – he had a vision that told him this.  Maybe she would find a way to look past the pain and anger in her heart toward my people and be drawn to me.  “My people do not value daydreaming Enkoodabooaoo.”
    I stirred from my reverie, thinking of the name they had given me.  It meant “he who lives alone.”  Suddenly, I was certain I was to be an old bachelor forever, never again knowing a woman’s body in the best way.  I banished the thought more quickly than I ever could have when I was young, saying, “You are wrong, Hurit.  Your people value your thoughts.  Your word saved my life.”
    She shook her head, “No, you are wrong.  My word did not save your life.  The honor my people owe their chief saved your life.  I merely mentioned him and his station.”
    “You may think this way if you wish, but had you not opened your mouth that day, I would be dead.  No one else showed interest in intervening.”
    Hurit gave a half-hearted nod, with begrudging acknowledgment that I had a point.  In a mere heartbeat I could tell the silence would settle around us again.  The other women chatted idly all along the main village path as they tended to their duties.  Children followed them, helping where they could.  Kesegowaase was organizing a group of young boys to gather firewood from an area of the forest that had not yet been picked clean.  They pulled simple flat sleds to aid their gathering.  One of them, a boy aged about seven years named Pajack, repeatedly tossed snowballs and taunts at Kesegowaase, telling Hurit’s son that he would be a man before Kesegowaase even though Pajack was younger and smaller.  Kesegowaase ignored the boy as he led the troupe into the trees.  Hurit watched him go, hurt in her eyes.
    “So do you think I will be permitted to buy some of the deer hides to manufacture parchment?  You never answered my question.”
    She smiled then.  It was a sad smile, but a smile, nonetheless.  “Why should I start answering your questions now?  Ignoring you has become a fine way to pass the time.”  Hurit returned to her tugging.
    I smiled then too.  “Because I will continue asking them until they are answered.  Talking to me will be the single, best way to silence me.”
    She caught herself just as she was letting out a laugh, regaining her composure, snatching another tendon.  The other women working nearby looked at her with surprise after her outburst, but only shook their own heads while returning to their labors.
    I asked a third time before she exclaimed, “Enough.  I will answer your question though you must talk with the men on trading.  First, I cannot imagine what you have that my people would value.  Your weapons are fine and made of a material I cannot understand, but I have been told your people will not trade weapons.  Second, I do not even know what this parchment of which you speak of is or is used for.  I have not heard of it, so again, you will have to talk to the men so they know what you want to do with the hides.”  When she finished speaking, Hurit’s wide eyes looked at me, silently asking if I was satisfied.
    I crawled on all fours to where another hide was stretched out wide under the sky and began scraping away its hair.  “It’s used for books.”  I saw her confusion so added, “Parchment is used to make the pages of books.”
    “You act as if you are helping me, but I think you mock me.  I know you speak our language like someone who has learned it since childhood and then you use these words, parchment and books.  I think you make the words up to make me look foolish.”
    “I don’t