...all MSR all the time..
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Chapter 12 (Revised)
My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears that I couldn't hear a thing as Nawkaw dragged me through the undergrowth. Branches were scratching my legs and whipping my face. Ahead I could see the trees thinning out as if we were approaching a clearing. When we stumbled through the last of the trees I saw a circle of boys standing around someone. Nawkaw yelled and they parted to let us through. Lying on the ground with a bloody knife by his side was Chachu, the same boy who had brought me the ruffed grouse only about an hour earlier.
He was bleeding profusely from a gash in his right leg. Suspecting that he may have lacerated his femoral artery, I had to stop the bleeding as quickly as possible. He'd lost so much already. Nawkaw was wearing a long-sleeved deerskin shirt. It was all I had to work with. His eyes widened in surprise when I stood up and began to take it off of him, but he didn't stop me. Undoing the leather lacing at the shoulder, I pulled off a sleeve to use a pressure bandage. It would do for the time being, but I really needed to get Chachu back to camp and get that laceration closed.
"Jack," I looked up at Nawkaw. "I need Jack."
Nawkaw looked at me blankly, not understanding what I was saying.
"Elan!" I remembered. "Get Elan!"
Nawkaw nodded and dashed off into the woods. Now that my breathing had calmed, I could easily make out the sound of the axes again, but know they were much closer. If I'd been able to hear anything a few minutes earlier, I would have realized that it wasn't Mulder that had been hurt.
When I looked down at Chachu again, I found him lying very still, his eyes filled with fear. I wished I knew what to say to calm his fears. The best I could do was to speak softly to him and stroke his hair. I kept telling him everything would be all right. I knew he wouldn't understand the words, but I hoped my tone would be soothing.
As I spoke I thought about what I was going to need. The needles and thread I had were crude, but they would have to do. What I didn't have was something that I could use for his pain. Omiga might have something that could take the edge off. I knew for sure he had something to fight infection. At least that was one less thing for me to worry about.
As I continued to speak soothingly to Chachu, I worried about the amount of blood he'd lost. If it was too much, there was nothing I could do. I'd just have to make sure he drank plenty of water and pray.
I lifted the compress off the wound briefly to see if the pressure had accomplished anything. As soon as I did the blood began to ooze out of the cut again. I quickly reapplied the pressure. I had no idea how I was going to get him back to camp and keep the compress on his leg. The laces I'd removed from Nawkaw's shirt wouldn't be long enough. Tugging on my bottom lip as I looked around, I was surprised to see a much longer leather lace tied around Chachu's wrist. It hadn't been there earlier, but I didn't have time to wonder about it -- it was exactly what I needed to tie down the compress.
As I was tying my final knot I heard voices in the woods and then three people came crashing into the clearing. Nawkaw was in the lead, Mulder was right on his heels and Jack wasn't far behind. When Mulder saw me, relief was written all over his face.
"Thank God," he fell to his knees beside me.
"Did you think it was me?" I put my hand on his leg, realizing too late that it was covered with blood.
"I couldn't understand what Nawkaw was saying," he took a shaky breath. "But I heard your name and his hands were bloody and I thought -- " he hesitated. "Never mind what I thought," he shook his head. "You're fine."
"Chachu needs stitches, Mulder, and I don't have anything to suture him with properly, so I'll have to make do," I began to speak quickly. "Jack, please go find Omiga and tell him to meet us back at the village. And ask Omiga if he has anything that can take away pain."
Jack nodded at each of my instructions. When I was done, he turned and sprinted into the woods.
"Mulder, I need you to carry Chachu back to camp. Put him by the central fire. I'm going to run ahead because I'll need to sterilize a needle and thread before I can do anything."
"Okay," he nodded as I stood up.
"I've tied that compress onto his wound, but if it comes off, you'll have to stop and fix it."
"Okay," he nodded again. He was scooping up Chachu when I turned and ran as fast as I could back to the camp.
When I got back, I dug around my backpack for the smallest pot I'd brought back with me and filled it up with water from the lake. After stirring up the central fire, I set the pot right in the embers. I left it to heat up while I searched my travois for my sewing supplies. I'd just located them when I heard voices approaching the camp. Quickly grabbing the cotton that I'd brought for baby clothes, I ripped off some pieces for swabs. Then I took my scissors and a couple of blankets from the wigwam and hurried back to the fire.
Mulder walked into camp just as I was putting the threaded needle, the cotton and the scissors into the now boiling water.
"Put him down here and cover him up," I pointed to the blanket. "He's probably in shock. I'll be right back -- I need to wash my hands. Where's Omiga?" I scanned the edges of the camp as I dashed back to find my soap.
While I was scrubbing my hands at the lake I heard Omiga's rumbling voice. When I got back to the fire he was peering at Chachu's wound with concerned eyes. When he saw me he turned to Jack and said something.
"Omiga wants to know what you are planning to do," Jack knelt down beside the old man.
"I'm going to stitch up his cut," I explained.
"What do you mean?" Jack looked puzzled.
"I'm going to use a needle and thread and sew his skin back together," I put it bluntly.
Jack's eyes widened, but he turned and translated for Omiga. The healer didn't look at all surprised by what I'd said, but he asked Jack another question.
"What's in the pot?" Jack turned back to me.
"The needle and thread, some cotton and scissors. I'm sterilizing them," I informed him as I inspected the boiling water.
"What is sterilizing?" Jack wanted to know before he translated.
"You know how sometimes when you get a cut it can get infected?" Jack nodded.
"That infection is caused by tiny bugs, too tiny to see with your eyes, but they are everywhere. Those bugs are what spoils the meat if an animal's intestines get spilled on the meat," I tried to think of an example he would understand. "The needle and thread have those bugs on them too, but boiling them in water will kill them. That will help to stop Chachu's leg from getting infected."
"If you can't see them, how do you now that they are there?" Jack sounded skeptical.
"I just do. You'll just have to trust me, Jack."
When Jack began to explain what I'd said to Omiga, I asked Mulder for his knife.
"What do you want that for?" he grimaced as he reached for the sheath he wore tied around his waist.
"I need it to sterilize it so I can use it to scoop everything out of the water," I explained as I put it into the pot blade first.
"Oh," he let out a sigh of relief.
"Omiga says he knows about the unseen spirits that cause infection, but he didn't know that boiling water would send them away," Jack sounded a little surprised as he translated for me. "He also asks if you will teach him how to do this sewing."
"I'd love to teach him, but he'll have to wash his hands first. Those spirits hide everywhere, but the soap will kill them, too."
When Jack translated for him, Omiga looked at his hands in surprise, but got up to obey.
"Does he have something for the pain?" I asked quickly before they left.
When Jack asked Omiga my question he reached into his pouch and pulled out two dried leaves. He handed them to me and pointed to his mouth.
"Mulder, could you please go with them and bring back another pot of water. I'm going to have to keep washing my hands."
Mulder jumped up to do what I asked. While I waited for them to return, I gave Chachu the leaves. He balked at the taste, but his mother, Leosani, was in the circle of people that had surrounded us and she spoke some short sharp words to him. He chewed and swallowed without further ado.
Knowing I had to sterilize the handle of the knife too, I picked it up and turned it around in the water. Now before I could do anything else, I'd have to wash my hands again.
When Mulder got back, I washed up and then turned the knife again. As soon as the handle was cool enough to touch I'd start. Chachu had already drifted off to sleep, making me extremely curious about what Omiga had given him.
"Mulder, could you open one of his eyes, please?"
When he did, I leaned over to take a look and everyone around us leaned with me. I found his pupil was dilated. Those leaves were apparently a narcotic, but I wanted to make sure he wasn't just asleep. I needed to know that he could tolerated the pain. I couldn't have my patient leaping around when I was being suturing him.
"I hate to keep asking you things, but it's easier than washing my hands all of time," I smiled apologetically at Mulder.
"I'm just happy I can help, Scully. What would you like?"
"Take off one of his moccasins and give his big toe a squeeze. And make sure you press down on his toenail."
Everyone watched with interest as Mulder did what I asked, but Chachu didn't react at all to the pain stimulus.
"Why did you do that?" Jack asked without Omiga saying anything.
"To make sure he can't feel anything," I explained.
"How does that tell you?" he shook his head.
"Why don't you give Jack's toe a squeeze, Mulder?" I smiled.
Jack shrugged and slipped off his moccasin. When Mulder squeezed his toe, Jack yelped and scooted backward. So everyone was laughing as I began to fish around for the threaded needle.
"Mulder, could you please wash your hands and show Omiga where to put his hands to compress the wound. They need to be far enough away that I have room to work," I asked once I had the needle ready.
When everyone was ready, I asked Jack to lift the compress. As soon as he did the gash started to bleed again. Mulder stopped it quickly by putting his hands where I'd asked. He looked over at Omiga and the old man nodded, knelt down beside Chachu and took over.
Everyone watched in absolute silence as I quickly stitched up the three inch laceration. I hoped it would be enough to stop the blood flow. If there really was a large enough cut in his femoral artery he would continue to bleed internally and our efforts would have been wasted. If, however, it was only a nick, the stitches and compression might slow the bleeding enough to let a clot form. If we were incredibly lucky, the femoral artery wasn't involved at all.
When I was done I cut the thread with my scissors and then swabbed the area with a piece of cotton. Much to my delight no more blood seeped through the stitches. I let out a huge sigh of relief.
"Now I need to dress it," I informed Jack. "Please tell Omiga that I need a poultice like the one he gave me."
While they spoke I washed my hands and then looked down at my patient. He was breathing slowly and regularly. I hoped whatever Omiga gave him would keep him unconscious for a while. If he moved around too soon, he could start the bleeding again.
"Omiga wants to show you how to make the poultice," Jack smiled.
"That would be great," I smiled at Omiga. "Will you stay to translate?" I looked back at Jack.
"I can't" he looked apologetic. "Maybe tonight Omiga can tell me what he did and I can tell you. Would that be all right?" he looked hopeful. "We've lost a lot of daylight already."
"Of course," I smiled, but I wondered what I could possibly learn from watching Omiga boil some leaves and twigs.
"We were planning to break for a meal at midday, but maybe we shouldn't now," Mulder pursed his lips.
"I could bring your food there," I offered, wanting to contribute something to the effort.
"That's a good idea," Jack nodded. "But have one of the boys bring it. It's too dangerous there for you," his tone was sincere.
I swallowed my protest before even opening my mouth. Mulder shot me a sympathetic gaze. We both knew that it was not the time to be questioning a woman's place.
"Besides, I'm sure you have more than enough to do here."
"You're probably right," I tried to sound contrite. I knew that the women and men had definite roles within the tribe. It wasn't up to me to question a tradition that was hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. I consoled myself with the fact that Omiga was willing to teach me something of what he knew -- that was extraordinary in itself.
"See you at dusk, Scully," Mulder leaned over to kiss me before he stood up to leave.
"Bye," I forced a smile. It had been my decision to come back here, so I couldn't really complain about the consequences. "Mulder," I stopped him before he got too far.
"Yeah?" he turned around again.
I beckoned him closer with my finger. "Why don't you ask Jack if he and Wanik would like to eat with us tonight? I have those two birds to cook and I'm sure they'll be more than we can eat by ourselves.
"I will," he promised and after giving me another peck, he and Jack disappeared into the woods again.
I'm not sure how long I sat there looking at the trees that they'd vanished into, feeling sorry for myself, but I was drawn back to reality by hearing Omiga call my name. When I looked up he was gesturing for me to follow him.
"What about Chachu?" I didn't think we should leave him.
Omiga said something and pointed to the women who were still gathered around the fire. I assumed that he thought they would be capable of looking after him in our absence.
I followed Omiga to his wigwam and waited outside while he retrieved several leather bags from inside. Once outside again he handed me a small cast iron pot.
"Biidoo-nibi," he pointed toward the lake.
"Water?" I asked. "Do you want me to get some water?" I pointed into the pot.
"Nibi," he nodded vigorously. "Biidoo-nibi."
I hurried to the edge of the lake and filled the pot almost to the top. When I got back to Omiga, he was adding more wood to his fire.
"Biidoo-nibi," I smiled and pointed to the pot.
Omiga chuckled and shook his head and took the pot from me. "Nibi," he pointed into the pot. Then he walked a short distance away, still carrying the pot. "Biidoo-nibi," he said firmly as he turned and began to walk back.
"Oh," I smiled and nodded. I couldn't think of any way to tell him that I thought 'nibi' meant water and 'biidoo-nibi' was the act of carrying the water or getting the water. With Jack's help I should be able to get it straight. If Mulder and I were going to be staying here, it was time we started to learn the language, or at least some key phrases.
After he hung the pot over the fire to heat, Omiga took the bolt of cheesecloth I'd given him and using his knife, cut off about a two foot length. Then sitting cross-legged, he folded it in half and put it over his lap. Once he was settled he began to open his various pouches and crumbling some of the contents onto the cloth. Each time he added something, he said a string of words, but after the first two or three I stopped trying to remember what he'd said. I couldn't even be sure if he was telling me the name, what they did, or where to find them. He also held them up so I could smell them and feel the textures. His final ingredient, however, he wouldn't let me touch.
When I questioned him with my eyes, he began a long explanation. I assume he could tell from the look on my face that I had no idea what he was talking about. So he paused and thought for a minute and then surprised me by reaching over to touch my abdomen. He shook his head, and spoke in a solemn voice.
"Oh," I could feel my eyes widen as I understood that whatever that plant was, it had the capability of harming my baby.
After picking it up and showing it to me again, he shook his to make sure I understood not to touch it. When I nodded he smiled, tied up the cheesecloth and tossed it into the boiling water.
To submerge the poultice he was using a spoon that had an elaborately carved handle. I wished I knew how to ask if there was a special significance to the carving or if it was just for decoration. We sat in silence as the water continued to boil. It didn't take long before a familiar acrid aroma began to assault my nose. It gave off the same smell as the poultice that Omiga had made for me, all those weeks ago.
Omiga didn't leave the bag in the pot for very long, maybe about three minutes. I assumed it was long enough to saturate everything, but not so long that all of the active ingredients were leached out. After scooping the bag out of the water and briefly letting it drain, he motioned for me to follow him. Walking back over to Chachu, we found him still out cold. Testing the temperature of the poultice, Omiga decided it was cool enough to put on the boy's leg. Once our patient was covered up again, Omiga said a few words and then ambled away.
Leosani, Chachu's mother, had been sitting at the central fire watching everything we were doing. The other women had already left to pursue other tasks. When Omiga left she smiled at me and murmured a few words. After returning her smile, I checked out Chachu one last time and then went back to the wigwam.
I'd only half finished making the bed before the commotion began, so I completed that chore as best I could -- Chachu had two of our blankets. But at least the bed was straight and neat, not shoved up against the wall of the wigwam. I laughed to myself at the pictured Mulder and I must have made sleeping in that pile of furs.
Next on my agenda was laundry. It was a huge production and if I let too much accumulate, it would be more than I'd be able to do in one day. As it was I had the towels from the night before, three shirts Mulder had worn on our trek and several pairs of drawers that I started to wear under my dress to keep out the draft. I'd grabbed a large pot and was about to start warming up some water when I noticed that most of the other women were working at their fires.
Glancing up at the sun, I discovered that it had long since passed overhead. My stomach fell when I realized how long it would take to get any food ready for Mulder. Here I'd been angry that I was prohibited from going to the work site because I'd wanted to help, and yet I couldn't even manage to do a simple thing like make sure Mulder had something to eat at lunchtime. I grabbed a pot and was about to dash to the lake for water when I heard Wanik's voice behind me.
"Nibi," I said in a frantic voice as I held up the pot.
Wanik shook her head and took the pot away from me. "Mitabi," she pointed at the ground.
When I looked down where she was pointing, she laughed and pushed on my shoulder making me sit down.
"But I need to make some food for Mulder," I protested.
"Wapi izhiiwidoo-wiiyass-imaa," she pointed in the direction of the logging operation.
"Wapi took the food already? But who made it?" I wanted to know. I needed to know who to thank for saving my ass. I hoped it wouldn't take very long before I got my act together and I wouldn't need anyone to bail me out anymore.
"Bekaa," she held up her hand and left me sitting there while she hurried over to her fire. She began to scoop some food into a bowl. I didn't have time to wonder if she wanted me to stay put or not. She was already heading back.
"Thank you," I smiled when she handed the bowl to me. I wished I could tell her that once everything settled down, I'd be able to look after Mulder and myself. I'm sure everyone thought I was a complete idiot. Wanik sat patiently while I ate and as soon as I was done she reached for the bowl.
"I can wash it," I shook my head. "I was going down to the lake to get water anyway," I kept the bowl and stood to pick up the pot that she had taken away from me.
"Jaawiin," she shook her head and pointed at the birds I'd hung on the side of the wigwam.
"I was going to do my laundry first," I pointed to the pile of dirty clothes in the washtub. "I can clean the birds later. Biidoo-nibi," I held up the pot.
"Jaawiin," Wanik put her hands on her hips.
"What?" I was confused. Not knowing what 'jaawiin' meant didn't help. I thought she wanted me to do something with the birds, but I wasn't sure why. They'd already been eviscerated -- all I had to do was pluck them.
As I stood there with a bowl in one hand and the pot in the other, Wanik breezed past me, took the birds down quickly and began to speak quickly as she plucked.
"Wanik!" I protested. "I can do that."
"Biidoo-nibi," she jerked her head toward the lake.
I was shocked that she was speaking to me this way, but knowing Wanik she must have a good reason. I did as she instructed and when I got back I discovered her reason. The birds were a bloody mess, literally. I assumed it would be the same as a duck, but ducks didn't bleed this way. I'd had plenty of practice during my childhood, trying to keep up with my brothers.
Wanik smiled up at me, took the pot of water and placed both of the plucked birds into it.
"Giizhitto-binewag," she said in satisfied voice.
"Should I put it on the fire?" I picked up the pot and swung it in that direction.
"Jaawiin," she shook her head vigorously.
"Okay," I chuckled and put the pot back down.
After another long string of words, from which I gathered I was not supposed to touch the pot, Wanik took her bowl and left me to my own devices.
Before doing anything else, I went to check on Chachu only to discover he'd been moved into his parents' wigwam, apparently when Wanik and I had been arguing about the ruffed grouse. His mother beckoned me in when I peaked in the door. Chachu was awake, but still groggy. I checked his leg and found it clean and dry. By the next day I would know if it was going to get infected. I smiled at both of them and left Chachu to get the rest he needed.
I got another pot of water and began to heat it up for the laundry. While I waited, I began to go through both travois, trying to sort everything in a more logical way than by weight. I hoped it would help me remember where things were. Unloading the backpacks, I left all of the clothes in the wigwam and put everything else in the travois. By the time I was done, the water had just begun to steam. I took a length of rope I found while I was organizing and strung it between two trees.
In the few minutes I had before the water started to boil, I looked around the edges of the woods for a stick I could use. When Rosaline and I had first done laundry, I'd expected her to haul out a washboard. She explained that she only used them if something had been badly stained.
"A washboard will wear out your clothes in no time, Dana," she'd warned me. "And I don't have the extra money to throw away."
She'd shown me to use a stick similar to the dasher we used to churn the butter to agitate the clothes in the water. It was still hard work, but probably much easier than a washboard.
When I returned with my stick the water was boiling, so I dumped it into the tub with the laundry and the soap. I added a bit of cold water to the mix, stoked my fire and then put another pot on to heat for rinse water.
I punched and prodded the laundry until my arms were tired and then I poured out the dirty, soapy water. Next I added the warm rinse water and another pot of cold and repeated the process without the soap. After I rinsed it a final time I wrung everything out and then hung it on the line I'd made.
I'd just sat down in attempt to catch my breath when Wanik appeared in front of me. She picked up the pot holding the birds and motioned for me to follow her. She took me to a spot about 200 yards north of the camp on the shore of the lake.
I quickly discovered that she was taking me to the place they used to clean the animals. I assumed it was this far from the village to keep the predators away from the camp.
Wanik took the first bird and squatted by a rock to carve up the bird.
"Jaawiin," I tried to stop her, hoping it meant no, like I thought.
Her head snapped up at me in surprise.
"I can do it," I reached for the knife.
She smiled broadly and backed away. When I was young my father had taught me a trick that made the breasts easily come free of the skin. Then with another couple of cuts, I had them deboned. They were similar enough to chicken breasts that I had no problem and soaking them in cold water had made them easier to work with.
When I held the skin up to Wanik, she took it and tossed it aside. I was surprised. I'd assumed that they would use almost every part of the bird, but on the other hand, it might be another way to keep predators away from the village.
Wanik watched closely as I skinned and deboned the second bird. It gave me a thrill to be able to show her something that might be of help.
In no time we were back at the camp and I was browning the meat in the frying pan with some fat. In half an hour I had a stew simmering. I was adding some salt, pepper and sage when Leosani approached me carrying two blankets.
"Miigwech," she handed the blankets to me.
"These aren't mine," I shook my head. One was made of the most incredibly soft doe skin and the other from an equally soft fur. Both were far nicer than what I used for Chachu.
"Miigwech," she murmured again and began to walk away.
I assumed that she was lending me these blankets to replace the ones I'd given to Chachu.
"Thank you, Leosani," I called to her. When she turned around I smiled and gave the blankets a squeeze.
She returned my smile and continued back to her wigwam. I took the blankets inside and finished making the bed. When I emerged I felt oddly satisfied with myself. Aside from losing track of time that morning, I'd accomplished a lot. The wigwam was neat, the travois were organized, the laundry was drying and supper was simmering in the pot. To top all of that I felt like I'd contributed by helping Chachu. It gave me a very cozy feeling.
I was still relishing my warm feeling when I saw Mulder and Jack walking toward the camp. From the definite lack of spring in his step, I could tell Mulder was tired. His shoulders were slumped and his head was hanging slightly. As they got closer I could see reddish-brown smudges on his breeches. Then I remembered the bloody handprint I'd put on his thigh. He must have gotten more blood on his pants when he carried Chachu back to camp.
My heart went out to Mulder. He must have had one hell of a day. Out of my need to be closer to him to comfort him, I began to walk toward them. After only taking a few steps, I stopped short and my heart leapt into my throat. I could finally see the cause of all of the bloodstains on his pants.
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