New Found Land Read Free

were permitted to enjoy their fruits for the present. The permission to hunt and fish could have been temporary. Maybe he now regards it as withdrawn.”
    Bos spoke as a Roman Christian: “There is only one God.”
    Ignoring that, Curtius said: “We Romans have been paying our dues to Neptune for thousands of years. I do not think he will pay any heed to savages.”
    Brad spoke in English to Simon: “It’s not really gods, but that was the nearest I could get to it in Latin. They believe in a kind of spiritual essence— manitou in Algonquian—a supernatural power that exists not just in people but in things. Things like the sun, moon, thunder, land, and sea. Especiallyland and sea. In our world, long after the white men had come, some Indians refused to use iron ploughs, in case they bruised mother earth.”
    The others looked restless, and he went back to Latin: “What matters is that they believe in their gods. And if they think the gods don’t want us to get lobsters from the sea, they’re likely to do what they can to prevent it.”
    Bos said: “I have seen more Indians than I used to when we have been hunting lately. Maybe they are trying to prevent our getting food from the land, too.”
    Simon asked: “How?”
    â€œI suppose they could throw a cordon round us,” Brad said, “to scare off game before we got within striking distance. Like beaters, only in reverse.”
    His tone was speculative, but Simon found the thought more chilling than the sub-zero temperature around them. He had already had to get used to the fact that the Algonquians, whom he had envisaged as allies against the North American winter, were taking advantage of it to exploit them. If they were going to be actively hostile, it put a very different complexion on the months ahead.
    Curtius said, after a silence: “This is not a good land you have brought us to, Bradus. Things are not as you promised. You spoke of a land of peace and riches, not of cold and hunger and treacherous enemies.”
    â€œThe land I spoke of is not this one,” Brad said. “It lies a long way west of here, on the shore of another ocean. And there, I promise you, we will find all the good things I told you of.”
    Brad’s description of America as an earthly paradise had sustained the two Romans during their voyage towards what they suspected might be the edge of the world. It was probably, Simon thought, not a bad idea to switch the dream to California as an antidote to the grim reality that surrounded them.
    â€œOnce we get there, everything will be all right,” Brad said. “Believe me.”
    He was doing it well; he spoke as though he believed it himself. Curtius’s look remained sceptical, but Bos said simply: “When do we go there, Bradus?”
    â€œWe must wait till the snows have gone.”
    â€œIf we live so long,” Curtius said.
    â€œThings aren’t all that bad,” Brad said. “At least it’s clear they’re not going to attack us. They could have done that at any time. We’ll just have to outwit them.”
    â€œHow?” Curtius asked.
    â€œWell, we laid those pots openly. We won’t make that mistake again. We’ll be more cunning; and in hunting, too.”
    Simon wondered again how deep his seeming optimism went. For himself he felt cold, and trapped, and more than a bit frightened.
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    It was soon apparent that outwitting the Algonquians was not going to be easy. They made new lobster pots and set them in a different place at first light, concealing the lines with stones and seaweed. Next day the lines were broken and empty. They took to hunting early and late, as well, and in areas they had not previously visited, but without success. Bos guessed the hut was being kept under surveillance, and the following day, as though in ironic comment, the surveillance became an open