The Curse of the Viking Grave Read Free Page A

boys set out for the Idthen Eldeli camps, driving their laden sleds up the Kasmere River onto the broad ice of Kasmere Lake. Along its northern arm they came in sight of a few thin coils of smoke from Chipeweyan teepees which stood in the scrubby bush beside the mouth of the Kasba River.
    They were met far out on the lake ice by Angus, who had been impatiently watching for them. He helped them cache their loads on a tiny islet from which he could ferry the meat to the camps of the sick and starving Chipeweyans.
    â€œHurry now, lads,” Angus ordered. “Ye must get back here wi’ another load by tomorrow for I’ve decided I must gang south myself. They traders and missionaries will pay little heed to what Penyatzi and Madees tell them but it may be they’ll listen to me. If they canna, or willna help, then I’ll hie on south to The Pas and report to the authorities. They Chips must have doctors and medicine. They’re in a terrible bad way, and if we dinna stop this epidemic it may sweep the whole country. Hearken now! When I’m gone ye’re to dump your loads on the ice half a mile awa’from the camp. There’s one or two Chips still able to get around, and they must come for the meat. Ye’re not to go nigh the tents. But if it should come on so bad for they puir people that ye must go to their camp, Jamie wull be the one to go. Alone! Ye understand?”
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    Some two days later, Angus had ferried the last load of meat to the Chipeweyan camp. He said good-by to the boys and started the long trip—almost two hundred miles—to the nearest trading post. And he might have to travel another hundred and fifty miles to reach the first real settlement, at The Pas.
    Throughout the rest of that month and into the first week of February the three boys, assisted by some of Alphonse’s Cree hunters, labored to help the stricken Chipeweyans. Load after load of meat was brought in by the hunters, while others of the Crees freighted firewood to the death camp.
    But food and wood were not enough. The people of the Idthen Eldeli camp were so sick that most of them could no longer help themselves even to the extent of lighting fires or cooking food. Chief Denikazi himself was struck down, and though he could still crawl from his tent to hack off raw chunks of frozen meat, he too was fast growing weaker. Each time the boys came within sight of the huddle of pointed skin tents they saw fewer and fewer signs of life.
    By the end of the first week in February they could stand it no longer. They made their decision, and that night in Alphonse Meewasin’s cabin at Thanout Lake theyannounced it. They were young, they argued to Alphonse, and in good health. They believed they could survive the disease even if they caught it. They were determined to move into the Chipeweyan camp and to do what they could to nurse the dying Indians. Awasin and Peetyuk would not allow Jamie to tackle the job single-handed. There was logic on their side, for one boy could not have coped alone.
    Alphonse and Marie Meewasin gave their permission, but with a terrible reluctance.
    â€œWe will bring meat and wood each day,” Alphonse told them. “May the spirits hold your lives firmly in their hands, my sons.”
    The squalor and misery of the Chipeweyan camps was incredible. For weeks no one there had had the strength to clean out the tents, or even to remove the dead. Moving from tent to tent, the three boys drew on one another for the strength to continue with their appalling task. Their faces hardened at the things they saw, and their stomachs turned over—yet they did not weaken in their resolve. The Chipeweyans had been their friends, and in the north there is nothing one will not do to help a friend.
    Soon they were having some measure of success in their battle against the disease. Roaring fires and the strength of steaming meat soup brought renewed life to those Chipeweyans who had