Allan and the Ice Gods (26 page)

not your wife, Aaka, see to the matter?”

“If I walk one way, Aaka walks another,” answered Wi sadly. “See now,”

he added, “I make you, Laleela, the Stranger-from-the-Sea, head nurse

of these babes, with authority to do what you will for their welfare.

This I will proclaim and with it my word that any who disobey you in

your duty shall be punished.”

So Laleela, the Witch-from-the-Sea, became the mother of the cast-outs, with other women set under her, and filled that office well.

There she would sit by the fire among these little creatures, feeding

them with such food as was known to this people, and in a low, sweet

voice singing songs of her own country that were very pleasant to

hear. At least, Wi thought them pleasant, for often he would come into

the cave and, seated in the shadows, would watch and listen to her,

thinking that she did not know he was there, though all the while she

knew this well enough. At length, finding out that she knew, he came

forward from the shadows, and, seated on a log of wood, would talk to

her, who by now understood his language.

Thus he learned much for, though she would not speak about herself, in

broken words she told him of her country and of how around it lived

many other peoples with whom they made war or peace, which astonished

him who had believed that the tribe were the only men upon the earth.

Also, she told him and Pag of such simple arts as they practised,

whereof these heard with wonder. But of why she fled from these folk

of hers, trusting herself to the sea in an open boat to be driven

wherever the winds would take her, she would or could tell him little.

Moreover, when he asked her whether she wished to return to her own

country, she answered that she did not know.

Then, after a while, Wi began to talk to her as a friend and to tell

her of his own troubles, though of Aaka he said nothing at all. She

listened, and at length answered that his sickness had no cure.

“You belong to this people, Chief,” she said, “but are not of them.

You should have been born of my people.”

“In every company one walks quicker than the rest,” answered Wi.

“Then he finds himself alone,” said Laleela.

“Not so, because he must return to guide the others.”

“Then, before the hilltop is gained, night will overtake them all,”

said Laleela.

“If a man gain that hilltop, what can he do by himself?”

“Look at the plains below and die. At least it is something to have

been the first to see new things, and some day those who follow in his

footsteps will find his bones.”

From the time that Wi heard Laleela speak thus, he began to love her

with his heart, and not only for her beauty’s sake, as he had always

done since first he looked upon her in the boat.

Soon Aaka noted all this and laughed at him.

“Why do you not take the witch to yourself, as it is lawful that you

should do?” she asked, “for whoever heard of a chief with only one

wife, I shall not be jealous of her, and you have but a single child

left.”

“Because she is far above me,” he answered. “Moreover, I have sworn an

oath upon this matter.”

“That for your oath!” said Aaka, snapping her fingers.

Yet, when she spoke thus, Aaka did not tell all the truth. As a wife

she was not jealous of Wi because of the customs of her people. Yet in

other ways she was very jealous, because in old times she and no other

had been his counsellor. Then she became bitter toward him because he

set their children before her, and left him to go his own way. Thereon

he turned to Pag and made a friend of him and hearkened to his words,

and for this reason she hated Pag. Now the Witch-from-the-Sea had come

with her new wisdom which he drank up as thirsty sand drinks up water,

and, behold! she hated her even more than she had done Pag, not

because she was fair but because she was clever.

Moreover, although he had liked Laleela well enough at first and

guarded her as her friend, Pag began to hate her also, and for the

same reason. The truth was that, notwithstanding his faults, which

were many, Wi was one of those men who is beloved by all who are near

to him, even when they do not understand him, so much so that those

who love him grow jealous of each other. But this Wi himself never

knew, any more than Pag did, that it was because he entered into the

hearts of all, reading them and their joys and sorrows, that he drew

the hearts of all after him.

So Wi made a friend of Laleela, telling her his troubles, and the

closer he drew to her, the farther away moved Aaka and Pag. Laleela

listened and advised and comforted, and being a woman, in her heart

wondered why he did not come still nearer, though whether or not she

would have been glad if he had, she did not know. At least, she would

have wondered, had not Wi told her of the new law that he had made,

under which, because women were so few among the tribe, no man might

take more than one wife; and of the oath that he had sworn that this

law he would keep himself, calling down upon his head the curse of the

Ice-gods whom he worshipped, should he break it, and not on his own

only, but also upon those of the people.

Now, Laleela did not believe in the Ice-gods because she was a Moon-worshipper. Yet she did believe that a curse invoked in the name of

one god was just as terrible as that invoked in the name of another.

In fact, she put more faith in the curse than she did in the gods,

because, if the gods were invisible, always evil could be seen.

Therefore, she was not angry because Wi, who was so near to her in

mind, still remained as far away from her as though he were her

brother, or her father; nor did she try to draw him closer as, had she

wished, she knew well enough that she could do.

Meanwhile, it is to be told that this year all things went ill with

the tribe. There was no spring, and when the time of summer came the

weather remained so cold and sunless that always it felt as though

snow were about to fall, while the wind from the east was so bitter

that but little could grow. Moreover, only a few seals appeared from

the south to breed, not enough to furnish the food of the people or

their garments for the winter. With the ducks and other wild fowl, and

the fish, especially the salmon, the story was the same, so that had

it not been for the chance that four whales of the smaller sort,

coming in with a high tide, were left stranded in the bay, which

whales they cut up, preserving their flesh as best they could by

smoking it, and otherwise, there would have been little for them to

eat until the spring of another year.

At the cutting up of these whales, also at the collection of all food

that could be found, Wi worked very hard. Yet the people who had been

accustomed to plenty in the summer season, however tight they must

draw their belts in winter, murmured and walked about with sullen,

downcast faces, grumbling and asking each other why such trouble

should come upon them, the like of which even Urk the Aged could not

remember. Then a whisper began to run from ear to ear among them, that

it was because the beautiful Witch-from-the-Sea had brought evil on

them out of the sea, changing the face of heaven and driving away the

seals and the fowls and the fish that would not come where no sun

shone.

If she were gone, said the whisperers, the sun would shine again and

the beasts and birds would return and their stomachs would be full and

they could look up to the ridgepoles of their huts and see them

bending beneath the weight of the winter food, as they used to do in

the old days. Why could she not go back into the sea in her hollow

log, or if she would not, why could she not be cast out thither

living, or if need be—dead? Thus they said one to another by signs,

or speaking in hints, but as yet, whatever he might guess, Wi knew

nothing of their talk.

On a certain day Aaka saw Pag shambling past her hut, his eyes fixed

upon the ground.

“The wolf-man is sad,” she said to herself, “and I know why he is sad.

It is because Wi up there at the cave is taking counsel with that

yellow-haired Laleela about big matters and asking no help from him.”

Thus she thought, then called to Pag to come to her and offered him a

dish of food, mussels cooked in a shell. Pag, who was hungry, looked

at it, then said:

“Is it poisoned, Aaka?”

“Why do you ask that, Pag?” she answered.

“For two very good reasons,” said Pag. “First, because I never

remember the day that you offered food to me out of kindness; and

secondly, because you hate me, Aaka.”

“Both those things are true, Pag. Because I hate you I have never

offered you food. Yet one hate may be driven out by a larger hate. Eat

the mussels, Pag. They are fresh and good, for Foh brought them to me

this morning, though not so fat as they used to be in past years.”

So Pag sat down and devoured that dish to the last mussel, smacking

his thick lips, for he was a large eater and food had been scarce of

late, because by Wi’s command all that could be spared was being saved

for the coming winter.

Aaka, handsome, solemn, black-browed, deep-eyed, watched him as he

ate, and when he had finished, said:

“Let us talk.”

“I wish there were some more mussels,” said Pag, licking the shell,

“but if they are finished, then, if you have anything to say about

Laleela, talk on, for I am sure it is of her that you wish to speak.”

“Now, as always, you are clever, Pag.”

“Yes, I am clever; if I were not I should have been dead long ago.

Well, what of Laleela the Beautiful?”

“Oh! nothing much, except”—here she leant forward and whispered in

his ear—“that I wish you would kill her, Pag, or bring it about that

she is killed. This, being a man, or something like one, you can do;

whereas for us women it is impossible because it would be set down to

jealous hate.”

“I understand,” said Pag. “And yet, why should I kill Laleela whom I

like very much, and who knows more than all the rest of us put

together?”

“Because she has brought a curse upon the tribe,” began Aaka, whereon

Pag stopped her with a wave of his big hand.

“You may think that, Aaka, or choose to say that you think it, but why

waste breath in telling such a tale to me, who know it to be a lie? It

is the skies and the season that have brought a curse upon the tribe,

not this fair woman from the sea, as the people believe.”

“What the people believe is always true,” said Aaka sullenly. “Or at

least they think that it is true, which is the same thing. Hearken. If

this witch is not killed, or driven away to die, or put in her hollow

log and sent out to sea so that we look on her no more, the people

will kill Wi.”

“Worse things might happen to him, Aaka. For instance, he might live

on, hated, to see all his plans fail and all his friends turn against

him, as it seems some have done already,” and he looked at her hard,

adding, “Come, speak your mind, or let me go.”

“You know it,” said Aaka, staring at the ground with her fine eyes.

“I think I know it,” answered Pag. “I think that you are so jealous of

Laleela that you would like to be rid of her. Yet why are you jealous,

seeing that Wi by his new law has built a wall between himself and

her?”

“Talk not to me of Wi’s foolish laws, for I hate them and all new

things,” interrupted Aaka impatiently. “If Wi wishes more wives, let

him take them. That I could understand, for it is our custom. What I

do not understand is that, seated with her by the fire, he should make

a friend and counsellor of this witch, leaving me, his wife, standing

outside the hut in the cold while she is warm within; me—and you

also, Pag,” she added slowly.

“I understand it well enough,” said Pag. “Wi, being wise and in

trouble, seeks wisdom to help him out of his trouble. Finding a lamp

to his hand, he holds it up to search the darkness.”

“Yes, and while he stares at this new light, his feet will fall into a

pit. Listen, Pag. Once I was Wi’s counsellor. Then you, the wolf-man

and outcast whom he had saved, came and took him from me. Now another

has come and taken him from both of us. Therefore, we who were foes

should be friends and rid ourselves of that other.”

“To find ourselves enemies again afterward. Well, there is something

in what you say, Aaka, for, if you can be jealous, so can I. Now what

you want me to do is to bring about the death of Laleela, either by

causing her to be killed or by driving her into the sea, which is the

same thing. Is that so?”

“Yes, Pag.”

“You wish me to do this, not with my own hand, because you know that I

would never strike down with an ax or a stone one whom I have been set

to watch and who has always been kind to me, but by stirring up the

people against her.”

“Perhaps that might be the better plan,” said Aaka uneasily, “since it

is the people upon whom she brings the curse.”