UnReal World forums
UnReal World => Stories => Topic started by: Brygun on April 27, 2023, 10:12:47 AM
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Real world its April 2023 and I've decided to go another round of Unreal World play with story writing. Those familiar with my early ones know this thread will be growing journal style.
The next few posts are the preamples setups
Character for 2023 April
Links to my other stories:
Calle
https://www.unrealworld.fi/forums/index.php?topic=6953.0
Tuukka
https://www.unrealworld.fi/forums/index.php?topic=6082.0
Kylpymies
https://www.unrealworld.fi/forums/index.php?topic=6076.0
Pekka
https://www.unrealworld.fi/forums/index.php?topic=6016.0
Iltros
The island challenge
http://www.unrealworld.fi/forums/index.php?topic=6007.0
Cornan
An adventure to emulate Conan
http://www.unrealworld.fi/forums/index.php?topic=5461.0
Novrus
A long adventure establishing a first winter house
https://www.unrealworld.fi/forums/index.php?topic=4640.0
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Calle
Character for 2023 April
Game version 3.72-1 patch
Mods: BAC-Rudy, Norse portraits
Long story rule: My goal is to encourage my own writing. Thus glitch or early deaths may be reloaded to avoid the ‘yet another beginning’ writing.
In the journal is < file name > entries of when I backup the game. If things go bad yet I decided to continue the writing those are break points to upload to. For example if he dies silly amid with 2 hours since the last save and its reloaded the journal for that time no longer exists. Thus those are my “confirmed journal” points such as when I log off for the night. For purists who only want an iron-man mode with no reloads well this isn’t it and blogging the same “character starts his first shelter” many times doesn’t interest me.
Culture: Reemilaiset
Reemiläiset (Those Who Live In The Reemi) live in the south-east part of the UnReal World. They have prosperous villages and they earn their daily living mainly by means of agriculture. Regular fishing, passive hunting and trading adds a steady flow of wealth.
Reemiläiset like to build big, protected houses. They have a deep respect for the spiritworld and their ancestors.
-Game Encyclopedia
Name: Calle
Calle
A man who is free
https://www.momjunction.com/baby-names/finnish/
Start: Winter
Completed the fall harvest with the family and preparing for his journey.
Reroll: Yes
looking to avoid the low endurance problem and with good dexterity for crafting
Came across a very high stat set though endurance a little above average isn’t ideal
Starting Rituals:
General sacrifice
Bear skull Rite
Setting snares for hares
Mittens for bear hunting
Wear mittens: wool for setting hare snares, dog fur for hunting bears
Skills:
High skills 60%+ in:
Building, Textile craft, Carpentry, Stealth, Axe, Bow
Start scenario:
Abandoned camp = gift goods from village
Course: The Unreal World
Starting at: Pyhareitti “Sacred trail”
Starting gear:
Weapons
hunting knife
fine hand axe
splitting axe
Armours and clothes
masterwork leather shoes
wollen trousers
fur shirt
nettle tunic
Food
2 rye breads
2 smoked bear cuts
2 smoke forest reindeer cuts
Starting:
In the rain
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reserved for possible starting pics.
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reserved spare.
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Day 4 of the 11th week before midwinter point
Reaching spruce and leafless birch chattered with the cooling rain of the fall. Calle’s work for the harvest was done. His hand picked off the head of a yarrow flower. Growing to the start of his manhood family and village both had led made him ready. It is time now for his path to begin.
His mother had traded for shoes with a double soul and stacked heel. Rare was such quality leather work seen. Wool trousers, nettle tunic and fur shirt were sufficient for the current fall weather.
The hunting knife was his companion of several years while the splitting axe was new for this year’s chores. A great pride matched the gleam on the fine hand axe that was the village’s gift for his coming of age.
Food was in a small bundle with grandmother’s breads and uncle’s smoked meats.
As a spiritual people their sage had a vision that he was to take on a great journey far away, perhaps never to be seen again. Mother cried for a day then began sewing not for him but to trade for the best shoes she could find.
In the sage’s vision he had to start by wintering outside to prove his readiness to the spirits. It was a fading lean to the sage led him. In the rain the sage left Calle.
“Search in a circle then as the spokes of wagon wheel,” Calle said.
An old wisdom to oeritnate in a new place. First finds were large stones, a few rocks, the stash of firewood and two nestled boulders. Those boulders seemed a far better place to shelter.
“Mark your routes with three and three,” Calle said.
He cut off branches setting into the ground three singles then a group of three. To those so trained these pointed the direction to go. These were placed north, west, south and east of the two boulders.
It seemed the old shelter had its own spirit. Respecting that spirit Calle let it stand. Instead he took his hand axe and knife to bring down trunks and spruce branches. Notching two uprights braced the ridge pole. Onto that was leaned the weave of spruce for a roof with more roof to separate him from the ground.
Snow had begun to fall. This winter would be challenging.
The sage’s words came to mind, “You may come to the villages to trade but stay only briefly. This challenge is tying you to the spirits. You must live with them as much as possible.”
Calle set out the yarrow flower as offering.
“Bless this new home. Keep me safe. Teach me the way,” prayed Calle.
Calle now began his first expansion of the circle. A few hundred yards across he could see where the Sage had brought him. Spruce mires, heathland, a clearing to the north west and pine mire to the south west. Those might still have berries and he needed a good source of water.
Sadly it wasn’t the season for gathering birch or adler bark. Birch could make containers and guarding outer clothing. Adler has the sap for tanning to let you eat the fats more often. A straight young spruce soon became a hiking staff.
In the heathland Calle began collecting lingonberries and heather. A basic non-sustainable diet but it was food other than uncle’s smoked meats. Those he could save now for emergency. Berries have moisture aiding his strength to explore. A greater use is to use berries as to bait traps. Traps his axes and knives would let him make.
What had he said his clothes? That it was enough. Well he was cold now. It was just noon amid the berry and flower gathering.
A longer walk took him to the pine mires. There cloud berries sprouted in small stands. A quick meal of them to aide him. Calle smilled seeing a pool of water. It would freeze in the weeks ahead. For now it means having that good drink.
Scouting found cranberries and nestled amid spruce a boulder. Calle set a new shelter there making a fire. Access to water would be vital. A lucky spot too. Nearby two trees had fallen which he could use to make materials without having to fell new trees.
Calle let heather petals fall into the fire.
“Bless this new home. Keep me safe. Teach me the way,” prayed Calle.
He slept.
Awakening in the dark Calle felt comfortably warm. Lean to shelter’s kept off rain and snow while collecting the fires heat. The boulder was also starting to warm. In the dim he gathered up spruce twigs to make a mat for this shelter. Saplings he had gathered in his hike he parted to make crude cordage.
<Calle 002 loop snare = mod edit to restore making loop snares of things other than yarn>
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With limited visibility exploring was wasteful. Stumbling about didn’t even find those fallen trees.
Flapping swooping past him was a bird! Nothing he could shoot or throw. This Calle set out to remedy. Bringing down a straight young spruce two javelins were made with fire hardened ends from a fire from parts of the same spruce.
Smiling Calle enjoyed gathering in this new place. This is a place he had chosen. Water was here, berries, heather and perhaps he might soon get a bird. Gathering in the dim came to have the sun touch his face. With that light the fallen trees were found and rolled over to the camp.
By noon he had fire wood split. With a ring of stones and rock he started another fire. This one he used to start burning the top of tree block. Digging it out with the axe would make a hollow. It might take a day or two to keep the cycle of burning going. When deep enough he could use it to hold water to carry. Hot rocks could be put in for a way to heat water to make soups too.
After sleeping another night the chores continued. The pots were coming along. Perhaps carving some trade goods would be good. Its not that he couldn’t ever meet others. A few bits of leather or yarn would make snares. Your first catches become leather for more snares. Unless he cut up his clothing that cycle wouldn’t start.
As cycles go the coming winter was assured as the mire water had a thin cover of ice! Bashes with the hiking staff made quick work of that.
Between working on the stump pots Calle used a rock to dig into the mire ground. Before it froze he could get at the roots. With several in hand a stone gave weight for tension. Twisting them together he managed a length of root rope. Lesser than a leather or hemp it would work for traps or as a belt.
As this day came to an end three major additions were in Calle’s gear. That root rope as a belt with split sapling cords to hang things, a hollowed block holding water and another hollowed block with rocks for heating. With the water block in the shelter near the fire it would be easier to get water to drink.
On his rising Calle though of making a basic bow. This would take a thin yet flexing cord that he hand’t made yet. Perhaps scrunching spruce could be woven up again. Seeking materials he pulled a spruce sapling out of the moist ground. That’s when Calle’s eyes went wide.
Reindeer tracks.
A half day old but still. Could he hunt it with his javelins? That wasn’t to be. In the search more berries and heather were gathered. It was a good amount of time spending energy not gaining much. Calle was part way through this uncle’s meats now.
Calle’s thought turned to trapping methods. For a reindeer a trap pit is possible. For this he spent hours carving a tree section into a shovel. He spent more time starting on the pit. Thats when it occurred to him that there are bird traps that aren’t snares. A slender trunk or large branch balanced on a branch with a stone for pushing could trap these birds. Now he was becoming a trapper. He had been so focused on the snare that the other methods had been forgotten.
It took to the next day and last of uncle’s meat to finish the pit. Covered with a triangle of slender trunks woven with branches and twigs. More bird traps would takes stones. Searching for these Calle found only a few but another fallen tree. Heaving he got it near the camp.
Then he started on another trap pit. This would flank the first one to catch those on a nearby track. Partway into the dig there was a snort. Turning Calle saw a reindeer only a few man heights away!
<CALLE 003 reindeer came>
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Exhausted his clumsy throw was pathetic.
It was a day or two more of slow malnourishment on berries and heather when finally a bird was caught! A great turn of luck.
It was day 4 of the 10 th week before winter making it by Calle’s thoughts nine days since the sage left him. With his first fresh meat since this began Calle slept well fed. It would take more to cleanse him of the weakening.
Calle’s heart filled with pride the next day. As he was about setting fences and traps for his little nest a bawl filled the air. The fear cry of a reindeer! Hurrying over there in his second pit trap with its long guiding fence line was a reindeer! So much meat and fur! Then while organizing a place for working the large hide three more birds!
A few days of processing had most of the reindeer on him as a hood, cap, mask, niska neck, mittens and foot wraps. The bird hides had become the leather cords those needed. With a large surplus of food it was time to visit a town to deliver the items for trade. This would be a triumphant return not a failed starving survivor staggering in.
Late afternoon of the Day 1 of the 9th week before midwinter Calle in his reindeer fur additions arrived at a settlement. For trade large amount of reindeer meat and some carpentry.
<CALLE 004 first settlement visit>
In the small Reemi settlement a boy runs up to look at Calle. Pleasantries exchanged Calle sits on a bench he brought to eat roast reindeer. A local man named Martti came to find about this visitor.
“Are you here for the wounded man?” asked Martti.
“No, I’m Calle in my test of winter,” said Calle.
Calle though was curious about this man. First they traded with Calle turning over the bench, boards, his fur neck niska and most of the roast reindeer. In exchange Martti gave him a bag of peas, a bag of broad beans, a basket of hemp seeds, a box of turnip seeds, a few turnips and some dried pike. The turnips and pike being able to be stored a long time restored Calle’s reserve food. He still had a good amount of roast reindeer to eat before it spoiled. Calle was quick to make a new niska for his own neck. Aged Martti was happy for the one now warming his own sore.
As for the wounded man he was being tended to by Parti in the store house. A bear had ambushed his man while he was gathering away from his shelter. It was to the north west a couple of miles at a spruce mire with a pine mire to the east. Calle thinks that is almost everywhere in these parts. He hopes to get his handaxe back.
A bit more trading was done to get two spools of yarn and a basket of hemp seeds. Those for the rest of the reindeer fur.
Calle stayed there over night. They traded the story of Calle’s saga for songs. In the morning Calle went to see what he could do about finding the lost axe with every intention of avoiding the bear!
Along the way he met Unto an adventuring Reemi. With some haggling Calle was able to trade for s shortbow. Sadly Calle gave up more than he wanted. However now he had a bow and arrows for either the bear or any other hunting. That was a good investment.
<CALLE 005 got bow>
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For the searching Calle setup a shelter in the area. A place he could base from in the searching.
As he moved about he saw bear tracks at the same time he heard the bear!
<CALLE 006 oh crap bear>
Very fearful of this man fighting bear Calle backed away north with an arrow ready. The bear roared again and again. Rather than advance it moved south. There wasn’t a need to fight this bear this time. Calle assembled a shelter near here and some water, in case he had to recover as wounded. As a thanks to the spirits he put out one of the turnips.
Back tracking the bear found a blotch of blood. Pattern searching with markers found what must have been the battle sight with many sprays of blood. It took a while though to use the spoke and wheel from there at a growing distance to find the camp with the hand axe.
Calle was back by the late afternoon.
Cliff in the southern Reemi region at Muttikangas “Block heath”. It is hidden within a deep chasm in the cliff. It is said to have casual wealth from the owl tribe.
<CALLE 007 hear of owl treasure>
On his way back by a different route Calle discovers there is a road leading north to a Reemi town. This is Kahametsa “Quarrel forest”. It is evening so Calle will stay here. Departing without trading goods, he had little left, Calle was back at his main camp still in the early morning. Traps were reset as he began pondering his next move. First he decided to replace the shovel and bowls traded as well as make some cups. As the next day came Calle decided to make a go of finding the treasure. This camp’s traps were set and baited. It might give time for game to get caught if he spent a few days searching for “Block Heath”.
Moving south finds a river with the village “Luru’s corner” on the north bank. Calle spoke with a few including a sage. The sage reminded Calle he can’t spend too long in towns. No one seemed to know of “Block Heath”. As for crossing the river it was still soft ice.
Scouting south finds the river growing stronger. There are rapids where Calle sets up a shelter for later use. Trying fishing with a javelin failed to catch. Exploring the river northward find it narrows down to where its just a creek. Around the deepening Calle sets up a shelter as a waypoint and fishing station.
Rivers flow in many directions here really cutting off his travel south. To the west the rivers are coming from a lake. Here Calle sets another shelter fishing station. Happily he catches a pike! It is just the one even after fishing across the evening and parts of the morning.
In time Calle circles back to the main camp to find no new game caught. Have the migrations passed on already? On his long walk he had seen a reindeer and an elk. They were though not one he could close on. The elk was across one of the rivers. Those fishing shelters may be useful as base camps for pursuit hunting if he can make skiis. Returning to the main camp Calle sets to having a cellar to stock foods.
The other possibility is that bear. She had left fresh tracks in the same area. Perhaps making a bear trap could be done. A few days later there is a four birds caught. That’s enough to feed Calle well and keep some for predator bait.
<CALLE 008 planning for bear>
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Heading off Calle takes a summary inventory. He has his knife, fine hand axe, splitting axe, the shortbow and quiver from the adventurer. A replacement wooden shovel, bowl and cup. His clothing with essential torso, head, hands and feet under fur. For food a few pounds of berries and a few of heather but only a few roasted cuts. A small amount of the village’s dried pike remained as the reserve.
Arriving at the bear area moving to the shelter of the wounded man and his own does find fresh tracks. Calle’s scouting shelter was on the open mire and that won’t do. The rest of the day and early night struggle to move his to tight knot of trees. Two traps are set on the ways in to the small pocket. The fire spot will go on the entrance as another possible detering though at the risk of being trapped. A tree felled will creates the spot for his shelter with 7/8 wall enclosing. It was risky to do this as his exhaustion had pulled him to sleep a few times. Those traps had given minimal safety though truly an angry bear would have just smashed through them.
Now it was Day 7 of the 8th week before midwinter. With the hunting fort shelter organized he needed to make marker sets to it, the 3-3 method of 3 singles then a stack of 3. Amid the heavy work of bringing the logs Calle took the time to walk around. Gathering a few stones he debates if he should make a cellar here too.
For the decision of where to build the trap Calle decided it should also be part of his nearby defenses. Its a risk of course. Everything is with bears. It a few man lengths from the shelter, in view through branches, in a pass between trees that comes out of the spruce to the mire. An adler stands as one of the bracing. Before raising Calle puts out heather with a prayer.
“Circle of life, bring a living to to me for its death will give life,” said Calle.
Calle sets another lever trap to bait animals that in turn might bait the bear. A second near the shelter would be handy. Looking up from the balancing act the bear has come!
<CALLE 009 there bear>
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Calle slipped back into his little fort. The trap door is reset. Quietly he slips back to the shelter itself. He stays there quiet for tens of minutes with no more sign of the bear. Calming his breath he emerges. He sets that trap to cover a blind spot coming out. It would be noisy and time consuming with the nearby bear to make the cellar. Its time to go.
Looking where to spend some time Calle goes south where the river and small lakes nestle up.
Disaster! He fell through ice!
A creek gave out and as he slipped his bracing foot skidded on a mossy rock. All of him went into the water. He was quickly out of the water.
A scramble found a fallen narrow trunk. In his bundle there is branches that are mostly dry. Amid a nestle of spruce sheltering from the wind he strikes flint for a rescue fire. It doesn’t take. Its cold. This is early winter. The cold is gripping and he shivers. Shivering is getting cold but stopping shivering means near death. Shivering hands strike flint failing to light.
With his knife he scrapes off the outer bits of the branches and log. Feathers of wood made by thin cuts with the knife. Unsteady shivering hands flick off wobbly feathers. This exposed dry parts inside. Striking flint the feathered wood starts. Calle nestles near the fire to warm. His body warms with thoughts of how much worse this could have been. Deeper colder winter or deeper water might have been his end.
(Actually this was a zoom in issue from wilderness map to local map when checking on a corner. Decided to leave it in. Had it been even worse this would have been potentially fatal. Its an example of my story-rules for allowing reloading in weird things and why I match the archiving to journal points.)
Exploring this position there are a few jutting strips of land. Calle picked one for a fishing shelter, one where he cold work the water from the moved shelter. It disappointed him when he discovered under the ice the water was far to thin to be worth fishing.
Searches were done of other spots on the lakes, rivers and rapids. This was also giving time for the bear to get caught in the trap and game to wander into the first main camp. A couple of days with a new shelter each night. These were becoming part of the network of survival shelters should he be caught in bad weather or wounded.
At a rapids he found an L shape narrow jet big enough for a shelter and a fire pit. It finally was a spot fishable from within the shelter. Crisp winds made it known this would be windy. With the flow over the rapids the water wouldn’t freeze. This little blessed spot would allow deep winter fishing. For now all he had was a javelin, a pointed fire hardened staff. Hardly a great tool. It was a useful spot. With a few traps it could work out.
Checking the bear trap found it untriggered. The meat was still there even with bear tracks passing right by it. Checking the main “Sacred trail” camp also found it devoid of catches. Calle decided his odds were better moving to the fishing camp at the rapids. At least he could try for fish while hiking out to check the trap clusters every few days. Calle gathered the broad beans, seeds, antlers, bone and better carpentry to move over.
Calle wondered how he came to this. Fishing had been an occasional fun task in well fed times. He was barely competent with a line. Using the javelin in the water was unyielding. How did he catch that pike before? Had the spirits sent it to him. What he did have was skill in carpentry. Accepting a part of himself he began making trade goods. Hopefully he might trade for fishing gear or at least more food. For now the broad beans were sustaining him amid berries and heather. Winter was deepening with the plants at risk of withering.
Calle did think to make a cellar near the fishing shelter. Soon the ground would be too frozen for digging. This lengthy chore had to be done now. He had a cellar here at “Axe rapids” and at the “Sacred trail” camp.
Day 1 of the 6th week before midwinter.
With the bag of broad beans empty Calle set off with his trade goods: a find bone comb, wooden cups and bowls, two stools, a bench and what boards he could carry. With communities in different directions Calle felt guided to go north west. At “Loru’s corner” he found their woodsman needed chores. This was a good sign. Right away Calle traded most his goods for another bag of broad beans and a cut of smoked salmon. How delicious was having the salmon melt in his mouth! His eyes rolled back and forth. Chores soon done Calle left with meats, fish and turnips. There was a net one could trade but he wasn’t going to part with his hunting knife for it! After a night in their hall in songs Calle left in the morning. One of the older man talked about how to shape a fish hook. Perhaps Calle could make his own.
It was a pleasure strolling back with a full belly. Deeper winter may be coming soon but for now his energy was returning. He hadn’t thought of making a fishing rod himself. Again something he had forgotten he new. Being around the village and the elders was reminding himself of himself. He had reindeer bone already and yarn from trading. Rod wood was easy to come by. By the end of the of the next day he had his fishing rod.
For a few days he fished and set new traps. Calle chuckled that he was also bad at rod fishing. It was his carpentry that got him meats and fishes for his diet. He kept trying and soon would check the other trap places again.
Day 4 of the 6th week before midwinter.
Calle scouted around the “Axe Rapids” going inland. A few cranberries were struggling still on the fine. Their value was no longer in feeding him directly. Rather he was now needing this to bait new traps. Circling back Calle let out a happy shout!
“Hooray! Thank you hare!”
A hare had gotten snagged in one of the more recent traps. Calle had started making a crescent of traps around the fishing shelter. A bit back to let curious animals come near. With a cellar the smells tended to draw animals. It wasn’t a complete circle nor did it need to be. A few bunches of nibbles lost became pounds of meat if any of them got caught. It had worked! A hare waiting for Calle on his way back from noon stroll. Perhaps his own walking farther away had startled the rabbit to drive it into the trap line.
A blessing was in this Hare that its fresh meat would now bait the bigger traps. Three portions went to those traps. Calle prepared to roast the last section. His heart sung a different song. He instead put into the fire with a prayer of thanks to the hare. That its spirit had come to the circle of life. A circle that expanded if predators came for the hare’s body in the predator traps. He chanted for several minutes.
<CALLE 010 hare here>
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After the chanting Calle feels a call to the hare cut in the nearer trap. Maybe its the bait he should be using on his fish hook? That didn’t work either. (Calle’s fishing skill 30% novice)
In the morning Calle decides to check on the outlaying traps. It has been several days now. Nothing at the bear trap. Sacred Trail yielded a raven. Calle reset traps while doubting if these would be worth keeping up with. It would be bad to leave the traps armed yet never collect the animals. For now he still planned on checking them.
Closing out the 6th week before midwinter the ground was now lightly snow covered and starting to crust. It wouldn’t be a time desperate for skiis and their own river pursuit hunting. Given the options Calle decided to start on a small warming shack. A place with better walls and if he can get enough stones a fireplace.
Moving against the fist deep snow was slowing fatiguing. Searching would be difficult until he had skiis. A few days were spent searching the woods then switching to the more productive shorelines. Largerly the sparser trees and no reverse slope made it easier to spot the stones. Preparing the large number of logs was crushing work. Calle’s failure at fishing and low trap yields was spiraling downward again. He changed to making carpentry work like bowls and simple furniture to purchase more food again. In considering this Calle wondered if he has simply headed out without the Sage’s challenge in him people’s home area if he might have perished.
<CALLE 011 play pause>
Day 5 of the 5th week to midwinter
Food shortage continues. Having to eat into reserve broad bead and spare baits like berries. Really holding on eating the last turnip as those could catch a reindeer. Ground frozen means that though the cellar at axe rapids is in no new pits can be done for local traps here or if making a trap fence between lakes. Using the short morning hours a few bowls and shovels are shaped. Will head to trade these. Resetting the “Axe rapids” traps before going. Twenty traps are done though there are few more than this. Taking into early afternoon the daylight is already dwindling.
Calle decides not to leave today, instead eating cooking a bit of the raven and one of the two deep emergency smoked pike cuts. He’ll leave early tomorrow. Getting stuck in the winter at night without shelter could go very badly. With light there is a slim chance of spotting a good sized animal and tracking it in the snow. The evening is spent assembling a bench for trade.
Dawn creeping up in the small hours Calle started out. He chose to go north west to check the bear trap at “Damn Passage” then trade near “Sacred trail”. A few catches would make a difference. Approaching “Damn Passage” he spots an elk on the edge of mire! This is time to try bow hunting.
One, two, three arrows loosed. Only the third scratches its leg. Two more no hits. Of the five only four arrows recovered. Tracking is tiring due to the drag of snow on his feet. The elk can move so much more easily. At least there are cranberries here. Picking and eating as he goes lets Calle catch his breath. Though it is giving the elk time to move. The trial goes into the spruce woods. Between footprints in the snow and brushed off spruce tracking isn’t too hard. The challenge is to get close enough for a meaningful hit.
Over an hour tracking. Tricky are the animals. This elk doubled back to the open pine mire. Resting, picking and nibbling Calle was able to get to fresher tracks. He chuckled finding the missing arrow! Truly it had doubled back!
A few minutes later the elk was in sight on the open mire. Calle held back shooting. Instead he now hoped to drive it into closer woods. Nibbling on berries Calle let the elk move south. Then following crouched the elk came circling a tree. A shot at seven man lengths was made. A miss, though the bull elk ran that way making it simply to recover the arrow. This snow was just enough to cushion arrows landing without being so deep as to swallow them up.
More stalking, resting and a sip of water from the water skin traded for. The elk does get into the spruce again, then out and then in. Now at six man lengths a shot if made with a bloody strike to the abdomen!The elk runs though now bloody. Calle gives thanks putting cranberries on a spruce limb with a silent prayer. Notching another arrow Calle resumed stalking.
With blood pools the trail was easier and then harder! Cunning elk went back to a circle of its own tracks. Now it was all muddled again. It took a few wheel-spoke searches to get back on what should be the right. Blood pools had stopped. Noon came. Calle realized he was short of breath with tiring legs. He sat for a few tens of minutes. If he was going to shoot straight he needed standing hands and easy breathing.
Resuming from there he did a hub and rim search. It took a bit to find the elk tracks though they were fresh. Stepping along he paused. There was another set of tracks. Bear. Big bear tracks at that. Now it was a competition! Had the bear smelled the blood from the arrow wound? Would the bear attack while Calle was quartering the elk? Would the bear be the one to take the elk and then Calle have to fight the bear for it?
A few minutes of tracking with a wheel rim search set Calle at ease. The bear was going north while the elk was going south-east. He guessed the elk sensed the bear and ran. At least the trail was taking Calle away from the bear. Continuing along Calle rested by studying mushrooms.
“Never eat a secret mushroom,” said Calle.
It you weren’t sure don’t risk mushrooms. Resuming the tracking Calle took a few steps before realizing these were reindeer. Back walking his own path confirmed there was both an elk and a reindeer about. Working along Calle spotted on a rise spruce twigs stuck 3 then 3. One of his own markers? A the bear trap area… and there the bear!
Calle bleated a curse.
<CALLE 012 bear area bear>
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Calle stood up tall to be clearly seen by the bear. Calle walked strongly though silently. Hoping his strong showing would let the bear know to seek easier food. Tracking got closer to the woods. Between the spruce Calle saw a flapping from one of the lesser traps. A bird was caught, a very small grouse. Clubbing it then pulling it out Calle put the whole carcass on the triple log bear trap’s point. Calle hoped the bear would be caught if not to at least to have a full belly to not risk fighting Calle.
Tracking, sliding among trees, resting and listening Calle heard the elk cough. It was close. Yet it was still eluding him when Calle turned to again see the bear. It was 10 man-lengths away and surely must be tracking one of them, Calle or the elk.
<Calle 013 bear tracking us>
Calle mad himself big again. Looking toward the bear, the sky, the bear, the trees as if there was something other than the bear to be looking at. The bear sniffed then waddled away with a warning grunt. Into the afternoon this continued. Calle tracking and the bear being seen at times. As the later afternoon called the sun downward the light was dimming. Encounters with elk or bear were more likely to be closer. Calle worried about needing to sleep. He could make for the shelter near the bear trap but that would mean likely never getting the elk. Sleeping near the elk trail risked an attack from the bear.
As twilight grew Calle cut and bundled some spruce and birch branches. Later he could use these for a shelter. He grabbed a large stone to make a trap with, more as a noisemaker against the bear. It became darker and darker. Onto the open mire the trail lead. This elk didn’t seem to be lingering anywhere for long. A snarl broke the twilight as the bear rushed at Calle.
Arrow away was a panic shot well wide of the bear. Dodging a swipe Calle got out his village’s gift hand axe. Its first swing in anger struck the bear. Swings and swipes. Each hitting and missing. Calle stumbled the bear loomed slipping a little on the ice. Swings and swipes. The bear flopped but slipped its head away from Calle’s inspired head chop. Both up again trading swings and swipes.
Backing up Calle really wished the bear would go for the elk!
Shallow tears in his right upper arm only drip of blood. His right hip and thigh swell with bruising. Axe bites in the bear are more telling. One leg working poorly. One then a second heavy bleeders. Stumbling on both bear and Calle warn that it could go either way.
On a bear stumble Calle takes a few steps back. Enough to belt his axe, slap an arrow and fire at this short range. A hit. The bear lays briefly before rushing again. Swipe and slash. Calle gets backed up and fires more arrows. He doesn’s care how damage the pelt is! He has to live! Finally the bear is to drained to stay up. An axe chop and knife stabs to the neck pour out streams of blood.
As it passes Calle’s first though is to wash the cuts on his arm.
<CALLE 014 got the bear>
-
Skinning the bear was next. Along with pulling out the guts would let the meat cool. With the stocks of branches he had with him Calle made enough of fire to roast meat. While they were cooking he ate the last of the broad beans with him. He struggled to get all this to a settlement, passing out in the woods along the way. In the morning his arm wound was checked, and was healing up well. It had only been a light graze.
Arriving at the homestead of Middle Corner he laid out the materials and bear meats. Hearing of how this bear had once mauled a traveler it was good news to them. Calle’s young face had a proud smile. He hadn’t want to fight the bear. When it was truly upon him he had prevailed.
Trading debates many things. Calle wants their masterwork hunting bow but it is a great price. Though eating bear pleases them they don’t need the whole bear worth. Calle does trade bowls, the bench and bear meat to get a masterwork small knife, turnips and a half dozen arrows. This to him is an investment into crafting more goods later.
Going to the village of “Quarrel forrest” its a good trade of bear meat for 5 broad head arrows. Those are good at making bleeding wounds. Most of the uncooked bear meat left goes for a bag of barley grains. Looking around they have a masterwork longbow, also beyond Calle’s means to trade for.
From there Calle makes back to his fishing camp. Bruises strain him. At least those cant get infected. Food is stored in the cellar with a lesser portion still carried. Do avoid losing the hide, as mangled as it is, Calle starts the tanning. To honor the bear’s spirit he walks inland to a find a lonely pine in a mire. The bear skull is hung with a prayer song followed by telling a few stories. Calle hopes the once angry man attacking bear will pass to the spirits and back in harmony now that itself was honored.
As a celebration Calle rested in his shelter whittling a bear figurine. It was now a twice woven part of his story. He laughed again. The elk had gotten away with one of the arrows. Calle decided to also carve an elk. With both he could tell the story of “The elk that became a bear”. Afternoon turned into pleasant stroll in the frosty mire east of his camp. Cranberries could still be found. He gathered casually to have them to mix in for taste amid the meats he now had. Stones came back as well for future traps or building.
Next day the bear hide preparation was complete. Now he had enough fur to make skis! Fine boards had been set aside for this long ago. A ski stick with a stopper and lanyard of grouse leather. In the evening Calle glided about on a set that was performed quite decently. Now in deep winter he could pursuit hunt large game in deep snows.
<CALLE 015 skiing>
Day 4 of the 4th week before midwinter.
Calle layed down on the bear fur. Taking charcoal he drew an outline past his legs with extra for rolling up half way. Doubling this up that masterwork small knife clipped out the shape. Small holes poke through let trade yarn be woven through. With the this leggings on Calle was very well protected from cold. Odd shaped bits of bear fur were cut up to make bandages. Similiar work manged a pair of leather paws which when combined with the reindeer fur mittens would be handy in the deeper winter to come.
Calle wondered about how the traps were doing poorly here. There were two flanking the approach the the shelter on the L of land, one for small animals and one small predators. There was traps around the cellar as its mix scents often draw in animals. At the edges of view from the shelter were pockets of traps. Calle decided with the extra stones about to set up an outer ring beyond view. That way animals attracted by smells but fearful of sight might stumble into them. He did make sure to leave enough stones for a fireplace chimney though that construction was far off.
Day 5 of the 4th week of winter.
Now was a time to check the “Sacred trail” traps. With the skiis he could make a good distance in the mounting snow. He could carry several days of meats, turnips and berries knowing the cellar had a few weeks worth in it. Along the way he stopped by “Damn passage” for the bear trap.
After resetting them all Calle found fresh reindeer tracks on the mire. There must have been a small herd as the size of tracks changed. With the bear and elk tracks from before it wasn’t the easiest to track. The work took him near the shelter again. Luck provided a small grouse in a trap. Calle began processing the bird. As well he added four more light lever traps near here for catching this small game.
He stopped overnight at a mire shelter. Working a tree trunk over next to the shelter and its pool gave him a work space for stretching out the grouse hide he just caught.
Next day he completed the trip to “Sacred trail”. For a while he had planned on bringing turnips. After clearing snow and balancing fresh branches on the two pit traps each was given a turnip for bait. With the ground frozen these two pits were the only ones he had to use for this winter. Other than resetting traps all he could here was recover boards and stones from the stockpile.
Over a few days the challenge was back to the balancing act. He had a week or two of food. The big projects were to hunt a large animal near a cellar, build a hut for the deep winter and perhaps a raft to aid both fishing and gathering logs. With his axes tree trunks were easy enough. The challenge for the raft was making a strong rope like material to hold them together. Calle wished now he had stocked up on more roots before the ground froze.
Perhaps he needed to respect the water spirit? For this he spoke softly over cranberries then tossed them into the water.
Puttering on project Calle splits spruce twigs. While those would do well enough to hang meats to dry in cold winter air they don’t seem suitable for braiding into a rope. Calle does use the nettle yarn he has to make a dip net by combining it with bear fur and a Y shaped section of tree.
Working on cordage Calle notices he dumped some of his stocks on the shore not near the cellar. Moving those over there is birch roots there but they don’t look like they’ll work. He is able to take spruce sapling, warm them, scrunch them them braid the inner bark, bast, into a bit of decent looking rope. Now its possible. He will need to gather a lot of spruce saplings. With the skiing gear that is doable.
Starting out movement catches his eye. A weasel is caught! Ha! Pretty small though anything helps.
Day 4 of the 3rd week before midwinter.
Cold temperatures penetrate Calle’s layers to make him cool while working. What he works on is lashing the tree logs together with a woodsman’s rope made of repeatable spun together spruce bast from saplings. A first little paddle takes the raft from its assembly point the bow shot length to the camp center.
<CALLE 016 rafted>
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Day 5 of the 3rd week before midwinter point
Calle eats roast bear to break his fast. He wanted his strength to be good today. This is the day he paddles the raft into the rapids. That first passage was quite close to shore for testing. Getting a good ways out Calle takes out heather petals.
“Mighty river, kind provider, Calle has lived on your shore. With respect to your greatness Calle offers these petals that you might have all you need and not pull Calle into grasp. These are from the land. Considered a thing of beautiful and of nourishment. May this please you.”
With that leaves are let go from the raft and other tossed with the wind.
Paddling on Calle makes his first crossing. Treating it as new area he scouts only a short way in on the land. As the sun rises he paddles around the rapids. Frozen water ices up north and south. Among the rapid area there are large projecting rocks. There are places he can sideways brace the raft across rocks. From here he feels safer fishing. His attempts so far unsuccessful. Cold winds and dampness soaking in begin to make ice on his clothes. This drives Calle off the waters. Its not just the water spirit to be worried out there.
This wicked cold seeps into the flesh, the bones and his thoughts. Its a deep drop in the temperature. Even on shore Calle struggles to prep large wood volumes. A tree is felled near the camp. Vision itself strains as the body’s shivering isn’t enough. The fire ring recieves a good foot of the tree. Shaking hands guided by fainting thoughts fails to light the fire. More strikes on flint catch on bark shavings. Huffs turn glows to flickers. Flickers to flame around a large chunk of tree going in a blaze circled by the stones. Calle finally gets that deep warmth back into his body. He collapses inside the shelter on top of spruce.
Eyes flicker still in this world. Morning has come. It is slightly warmer. That deep cold bite has passed. Truly a demon to fear!
Calle takes his raft out again. Cranberries offered to the river. He tries fishing with grouse meat for bait. Still no luck. Across the shore he begins gathering for an emergency fire and shelter for that side. His return brings over three trees for the shed. Next day that emergency shelter with wood stocks is setup, just in case of another super cold snap. More trees moved over. Its the last of the roasted bear meat. That sets the task for tomorrow.
Day 1 of the 2nd week before midwinter
Calle sets out to check the other trap sights or ski hunt. His trap sets are at:
“Axe rapids” = the current primary site, with rapids for water and fishing, though so far poor fishing results. Numerous traps though rare animal catches. Has a cellar.
“Damn passage” = the bear site, with the bear log trap, where the elk became a bear. Wounded an elk and saw reindeer tracks. No cellar.
“Sacred Trail” = first camp, near where the sage released Calle on his first winter quest. Short fence line with the only pit traps Calle has this winter. Various other traps. Has a cellar.
At Damn passage there are hour old reindeer tracks. If only Calle had been able to make a pit trap in this area. Alas, that would have meant doing it when the angry bear was alive. Skiing around he can’t get a sight of them. There must be a small herd judging by the numbers and different sizes. It does make tracking them harder when they cluster graze making tracks go all sorts of different directions. Calle decides for now to go check Sacred Trail.
Sacred Trail has a bird caught in a trap. At least its something. Ah, then a raven in another trap. Working the skins gives time for another day and another bird. By the time Calle leaves he is still out of roasted meat and has to start on dried meat he had traded for. The traps were reset. A few more fences were raised in hopes of catching a reindeer. Sadly he wishes these pit traps were at Damn Passage where the reindeer are now active.
Spare stones from Sacred Trail are brought over to Damn Passage. He’ll set a few more traps. While prepping for that Calle hears the snap of a trap going off. Another small bird is another bit of meat. This time Calle will sleep here amid his defended shelter. It seems safer with the angry bear slain but one never knows if something else is here. Perhaps a bad thing was done that made the bear angry.
4th day of the 2nd week before midwinter
In bag foods depleted Calle makes back for Axe Rapids. Its frozen season. This time Calle circles wide around even crossing rives to see what is around. He can see a distant elk. Though weak he climbs up hills. There are hills and mountains on this side of the river. Those are great vantage points for stalk hunting. Calle will make back to Ace Rapids for its cellar stocks to fuel a hunt.
Exploring to the top Calle arrived in dim morning. With risk of cold Calle thinks to setup a shelter for hunting. Exploring for a spot and building though has already taken him into the afternoon. With short days this was a big consumption of light.
Day 6 of the 2nd week before midwinter
Calle woke up in the south hunting shelter. It was using a spruce tree as a wind break along with less effective pines. Stones of fire pit had lengthened the time the fires heat had come into the spruce covered shelter. He lay on a thick spruce mat. With his furs, the heat trapping, separation from the ground, wind block and precipitation shielding he had slept well. Lever traps were out in a partial arc for now as noise makers.
Though this took two days he had this hunting shelter down the east slope of mountain. It this early morning he could climb up knowing he could rush here if a cold snap came. Watching dawn rise Calle gave an offering to the spirits. Over the peak a caperaille flew, as if bearing the answer.
Crouched on the peak Calle kept looking around. Patience and planning were rewarded with the sighting of a distant elk in the late morning. Moving that way takes several minutes. Unfortunately he couldn’t find the trail. Checking hill tops several settlements are spotted.
Calle decides he should bring in basic materials for trade for food to use in hunting. “Murder steep” is an alarming name. Village folk tell of a tale of in old times an elder was pushed off a cliff by an jealous man who was denied marrying the elder’s daughter. Now the elder was one of their guiding spirits.
Seeking food to trade a hunter comes asking for Calle’s masterwork knife. Calle blinked in surprised.
“Why would I just give this to you? I use it. Together we make things to trade for food,” said Calle.
“The elder spirit said you could give that to me if I taught you the fishing rituals. He thinks you lack them,” said the hunter.
Calle had to think. Those words were true. If it had been just about anything else he would refuse. If Calle could tie into the spirits at the rapids he could get food. How did the old saying go?
The Hunter spoke, “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach how to live with the water spirits and you feed him for a lifetime.”
The ritual is about launching a punt backwards. A punt. A leather skin boat around a frame. This Calle doesn’t yet have. His wooden raft isn’t the same. Maybe though it would still ease the spirit’s heart to yield fish at the rapids.
Between the villages of Murder Steep and the Oreland Calle gets meats, turnips and a new fishing rod with an iron hook. Calle hopes that will do better than his bone hook. The hunter in Oreland spent some time explained about changing the depth between float and hook for different fish.
<CALLE 017 learning fishing>
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Spending the night at Oreland Calle told them of his First Winter challenge. He could only stay the one night, unless in a grievous, way. The town sage knew of this.
“What are things you’ve learned so far?” asked the sage.
“That its hard to live alone in the forest. That we each have different skills. Using my best skills to village lets me trade. The woods can give life but you are closer to death. If things go poorly having a village keeps you well. The woods will task a person in ways they don’t expect. It is a life though full of heart. Among the woods you are among the spirits. Its hard to hear them but when you are happy with each it is great joy.”
“Those are good lessons,” said the Sage, “What if you had gone far out on your own right away?”
“I may have died at any of at least three times,” said Calle.
“Are you open to learning more?”
“Yes,” Calle said, “My struggles humble me. I can be strong and cunning but without wisdom many mistakes are made that the ancient ways would have had me avoid.”
The Sage then had the villagers tell Calle stories they knew. Calle would think on these as he resumed his efforts to hunt. The treasure of “Block heath” also came to mind. Calle didn’t speak of it though, as they might get to it first and none of them had eluded then slain the angry bear nor gave it’s skull a new home to find peace.
Day 1 of the last week before midwinter
From hill top seeing nothing, nothing caught at the Axe Rapids camp nor at the Damn Passage and on the way to Sacred Trail a sneeze burst out of Calle. A new challenge from the spirits or perhaps from one of the village folk?
Sacred Trail itself is bountiful bringing to Calle five birds! That’s a decent catch. Being sick Calle visits the nearest village of Quarrel Forrest. However they have no sage to treat Calle. The southern branch of the settlement doesn’t have a sage either. Nor does Middle Corner. Calle makes for Damn Passage where he can at least bait the new traps there with berries from the Axe Rapids cellar. When he wakes he was breathing clearly again. His sickness had passed.
Returning calmly to Axe Rapids Calle had various foods on hand. There was the trade foods from the south west, birds from Sacred Trail to the north east and a few things still in the cellar here. While doing chores here a squirrel and large hare were caught as well. What really worried him was the deepest cold to come. His cabin plan needed over many more logs and he had only 12 shaped so far. Another 6 had come across the river awaiting shaping.
Taking a break from tanning the hare Calle went out fishing. He did the backwards walk of launching the raft, though it isn’t a punt. This time he caught a trout! Over seven pounds of fish came up. For thanks he launched heather petals as little boats to adrift through the rapids. The next day taking a break from work Calle backwards pushed and backwards paddled the raft. He caught another trout! Now the plan for basing here was looking good.
Calle also debated on his cabin. This place would be left after he moved on. Rather than a full cabin perhaps he could make a heatable space with an L of walls. Then have the slope come down like a lean too. Midwinter would pass with a routine of chores fed by fish.
<CALLE 018 past midwinter>
Day 4 of the 13th week before summer.
Having been at work for many days and hunting south before that Calle makes for the northern trap sets at Damn Passage and Sacred Trail. A long track streams from his long ski accompanied by the waddle pushes of the short. Dotting alongside is the pokes of the ski stick. Calf deep snow would be beyond his ability to transit far for long. Smiling at his progress he remembers the years with his father, grand father and village working wood.
Damn Passage had no catches. Calle would reset their traps on the way back from Sacred Trial. The old reindeer tracks a history of the game that had come through. Game he hadn’t caught.
Skiing east he sees one of the reindeer! Rather than take the first long shot Calle calmly eats and drinks. If the snow would trouble the reindeer an endurance hunt would work. Shooting with panting at a longer range wouldn’t end the hunt either.
The four legged animals do cross the snow easier than a walking person. Its a question of skiing on calf deep snow vs the four legged walking through it. Skiing along the reindeer has soon taking to the woods. Calle smiles, as he sees the reindeer seems slightly fatigued. Skiing on this snow was his advantage. Now the challenge of the reindeer’s tricks in doubling about on its trails against Calle’s tracking.
This one is a smart one. It circled at least twice on the pine moor. It really confused Calle. Calle put down a hunt marker of 1-2-1 markers of branches, or 1-3-1. It shows a path or point of interest without pointing a direction. These let Calle avoid overly sweeping the same area in his hub and rim style searches. It was over an hour to pickup the trail again. Another hour or two still no new sighting. Calle heard it several times. Though frustrating it is best to remain calm. Today that reindeer would get away. Calle wanted to get to the Sacred Trail camp while there was still light.
Circling a cluster of pine Calle spots a hare. He moves, fires and lames a leg. Its running though. Calle tries running after it. That was such a mistake. Huffing from exhaustion Calle lost sight of it when forced to rest. Growling Calle wonders if he will ever see that arrow again. An hour or more of searching on the loop backs, making 1-2-1 markers and the annoyance of squirrel tracks intermingling. Calle was thinking of giving up when emerging onto heathland he found rabbit tracks. It did lead him to the hare snuggling among tree. No clear shot this time. More hours of searching to cease when the hare’s fresh trail doubles back onto an hour old section already marked by 1-2-1. An arrow lost.
Calle makes for Sacred Trail getting into the dark so soon. He even collapsed mid transit to sleep. His warm layers were enough to bring him out safely. At Sacred Trail he finds two birds trapped.
“Better to have two birds in hand than a rabbit lose amid the trees!” laughs Calle.
Its soon joined by a third bird then a fourth.
Calle heads out by way of Quarrel Forest. For them Calle fells a tree and makes two tables for a hefty bag of rye grains. A few arrows and torches traded for a thin bag of peas, turnips and nettle yarn. Back to Axe Rapids with a trapped hare.
Day 7 of the 13th week before summer season
This marks the start of Calle’s partial cabin. A week and a half of carpentry and fishing brings the joy of a fireplace fire glowing on Calle’s face. The L cabin is finished with enough room for the fireplace, sleeping bunk and storing areas. It has an access door to the cellar. Similar boards eased the needed logs. In time this could be made into a proper square cabin. For now the sloped roof does what it needs to deal with the deep winter better than the spruce shelter. It is Day 3 of the 11th week before summer season.
<CALLE 019 Made L Cabin>
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Day 4 of the 10th week before summer season
Showing respect to wood and river with sacrifices on land and on water along with the teachings learned has given a steady ability to work. Yesterday and today had severe cold snaps. Yesterday Calle had been across the rapids gathering logs. He slept over there and fished on the way back. That’s when the icy spirit of north winds had crept into his bones. Even today he had started becoming dazed even though in the slowly improving cabin. Time and time again the ice winds denied a fire. It was then that Calle realized that some spirits were deep hates.
It would take both his physical work and the friendly spirits to start the fire against North Winds claws. Saying prayers as he tried again and again the fireplace finally lit up. He had already been losing sensation and eye sight. Icy claws were starting to narrow his throat when the fire glow sent them away. With that friendly glow Calle continued to work on the cabin. He made sure a good fire was going before he went to sleep!
Day 2 of the 9th week before summer season.
Taking a break from building, fishing and the odd trap catch. Calle went to “Damn Passage”. To his horror there are wolf prints all over the place. He promptly leaves! With evening and exhaustion coming Calle takes refuge at the “Middle corner” homestead. His warning is heeded with the children told to stay close to the homestead for the next few days.
In the morning Calle and the Middlers trade partings. Starting to ski Calle calls out.
“There!” said Calle.
He pointed with his ski pole to a glutton. Another fierce out in the deep winter. One certainly able to kill a child and known at times to best adults as well. It was just at the corner of the storehouse, well within bow range of the main cabin. Calle skis noisily toward it. Snuffling in protest its pushed back a way. Should he hunt it?
<CALLE 020 Glutton at middle homestead>
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(Gluttons are known in North America as wolverines. Though smaller than people they have a lot of muscular strength and claws.)
Calle skiis after the glutton. Now and then it turns back with a snuffle. Grunting breaths of warning. Hoping to tire it out before fighting Calle stays on pursuit. However the glutton is cunning. It circles over the tracks of a pole cat.
Maura the housewife of “Middle corner” came walking to him.
“Saw you skiing back and forth,” she asked, “Are you all right? Lost?”
“There,” Calle pointed with his ski pole, “Two predators with their trails intermixed. Mighty glutton and now a pole cat. Hard to figure out which is going where. Though it looks like the didn’t go towards your home.”
Maura’s weathered eyes looked over the muddled ground.
“We’ve seen the pole cat since the fall,” said Maura, “We live on our crops, fish, trade and the odd reindeer. Don’t be foolish getting hurt in the deep woods. The woods might want to feast on your blood. Mind the cold.”
Calle choked on his throat drying. Maura gave a grin as she went about gathering twigs. Calle swept the arc that would go back to the homestead. Seeing no more trails going that way decided they were as safe as he could for now.
(Playing grogging in the morning I messed freezing message and he died on long distance travel. First reload for those iron man purists.)
Frost crisped on his fur. He now knew why Maura had warned of the cold. He was chilling as deadly North Wind had come back. Calle pricked off branches from a standing birch. A fallen companion was moved to a wide spot in a grove. Branches feathered by knife placed beside with fluffly tinder from his pouch. Calle struck flint struck until sparks caught on the tinder. Huffing blowing expanded it to the feathered wood. Growing with care the fire started on the log. The big blaze would warm him up.
Calle now doubted if getting to the Sacred Trail now was a good idea. Roaming predators and worse the North Wind. Making south west its hardly an hour or so before North Wind is slashing at him. On a mire he hurries to assemble a shelter using a small fire. This isn’t enough. Another small tree sectioned for the fire.
He starts to warm holding off death this time. Less than an hour of travel to make camp for an hour to warm up. While waiting he gathers more spruce branches to make a mat for the bottom of the shelter. Calle makes another bundle sprcue as a mat and shelter cover to carry with him.
“If I go to stay in the homestead its two nights in a row,” said Calle, “The sage said only if I were grevious. Is this so? North Wind is clawing for death. Would breaking the one night rule mean I’ve failed or is this knowing to respect the powers greater than myself. If a keep making shelters it may get me back to Axe Rapids. I’ll try moving on.”
<CALLE 021 Stalked by North Wind>
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Head south west Calle was very mindful of his temperature. Maybe he could make it all the way to Axe Rapids.
“Plan to survive today and tomorrow both,” Calle repeated words of his grandmother.
On a mire at this middling hike distance he setup a new shelter, matted it and made a warming fire. Traveling again he completed the retreat to the Axe Rapids cabin. It was a retreat. That North Wind was more powerful than he. Maybe with even more furs like a coat and a cloak both it might be a battle to fight. For now the cabin stocks of wood for heating and the befriended river for fish to eat. A hare was caught in a trap adding to his means. It was a slim time. A slim margin between thriving, being alive or passing through the spirit gate. Several days of barely being alive at times near fainting from numbness trying to start a fire.
Calle reminded himself North Wind was strong but would pass. A week or few more would see North Wind going back to its ice palace far from these lands. Calle thinks that had he gone to Sacred Trail he would now be a guest in the ice palace at the icy feast table of North Wind.
<CALLE 022 Fighting North Wind>
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Day 1 of the 8th week before summer
His cabin has been expanded with room for a work table and bench. Walling is still incomplete. It is going from the L shape to a circle. In the center is the fireplace so wherever you the fire is right next to you.
This day Calle gives his first go at cooking. There are heavy bags of barley and rye in the cellar. At least some can be used with North Wind stalking around. A clumsy edible set of set of rye flat beads with heather and hemp seeds keep him going that little bit longer.
The amount of wood going through is stunning. Blocks of section trunks the size of stumps are burned two or three a day. At least some in the cabin and another if he uses the fishing shelter as North Wind’s claws like to reach out of the water.
Whether baking or fishing to survive his one layer of fur over cloth still needs both shelter walls and a fire. North Wind is very strong this year. When warm his clothes are enough to bring down a tree either nearby or from across the river. Fishing on the water is potentially fatal in the deepest cold. A tip in the water would certainly be! Calle laughs that at least he has water! A block tub, made by charring a block then chipping it out with an axe over and over, has let him keep a good supply of water inside the cabin. It is a very short walk to the rapids to refresh if you want to tease North Wind.
Next day is hours of baking up a big stack. He could make four or five sets of this of rye and again of barley. It is a nice smell and a change out of the boredom that was setting in from repetition. Even better was a bird caught in one of the traps. Meat to go with the bread! A simple thing that seems a luxury when fighting North Wind alone for the first time in your life. A sacrifice of thanks is left out to the wood spirit. Its an endurance hunt with North Wind the hunter and Calle the one striving to survive.
Making trade crafts come to mind. It would be a real gamble to travel to trade though. The work though can be done sitting next to the central fireplace. At night Calle plays out stories with the elk and bear figures. Sometimes he chats with the cellar figurine, a fox on the idea that if there is one fox there already the others will stay away.
<CALLE 023 Used flatbreads>
Map attached
The circular cursor is over the main cabin at Axe Rapids. Yeah... angry bear right near me.
-
“Now Calle, eat your hemp biscuits,” mother said.
Calle pondered the dream he had. His mother would make them hemp biscuits to go along with the rye or barley. Their different taste means they have different nutrition. Recalling his cellar contents Calle spreads out his consumption with rye and hemp baking. Flatbreads and longer lasting hardtack. He really wanted meat yet the draw of the hemp was tasting.
“Your body will call for foods it needs, or sweets,” mother said.
As Calle ate the his first hemp flatbreads he really enjoyed them more than as a boy. This the thin diet he had it really must be he needed them. With his stacks of bakes he figured he had ready food for maybe a week with three more in the cellar. Any fish or game was extending his time. Time to outlast North Wind.
Eating the barley twice as often as the hemp seemed to be working. Even without meat Calle felt stronger after a few days of that diet. To change fishing bait he pulled off rotting meat from one of the traps. He needed to remember on the next catch to set some aside for bait.
(UrW Nutrition for flour by type: https://www.unrealworld.fi/wiki/index.php?title=Flour
Note that Barley and Rye are high in carbs but low in protein. Hemp reverses that making it great thing to mix in)
Day 1 of the 7th week before summer season
Today was only moderately cold. His clothes and single fur layer kept Calle comfortable while fishing on the river itself. That didn’t mean catching anything. It still felt good to be out of the deeper cold. It might snap back once or twice yet.
Day 3 of the 7th week before summer season
Still no fish nor game. The 2-1 bread mixes have been nourishing. Calle takes a little break to ski to the across the river to the high peaks to the south west. Since he is warm enough still Calle caries onto the village of “Moron summit” to the south west. The first people he has seen in weeks bring him joy. Among them is the sage Ilari. Good to know if sick again to go south west from Axe Rapids. There is talk of a wounded adventurer. This time Calle isn’t super eager to go into danger with North Wind still lurking nearby.
Calle pulls out arrows for trading, “Made these myself. Hare bone for the tips, raven feather fletching made from good straight wood. The cordage is hemp yarn I traded for from other Reemi. They are good and true.”
They agree to give three cuts of smoked meat per arrow. This is meat that will expand Calle’s diet.
Coming to the headman’s hall Calle speaks with the wounded Korjus. The man survived a bear attack. His direction of north east the direction of Calle’s home. Calle paused at that. He would have to do this after all. Its at the border of a large spruce mire with a pine mire to the west.
<CALLE 024 midwinter quest>
-
Heading home a wind steers him on a new course.
(Robber attack led to a reload. Robbers don’t seem slowed by the thigh deep snow. Did cripple one with leg chops for light head wounds. Turns out he had a friend who beat Calle out.)
Calle made on this new course back to the Axe Rapids. To face the bear Calle first decided to invest with his carpentry skills. First he made another of the raven arrows like those he traded. Then without metal fittings he could still assemble a wooden shield. Boards with back braces pegged then those pegs wedged to expand.
He collects his spare bandages to join those he kept on him for accidents. A few pinches of heather, the only herbs he has, for poultices. A refresh of his waterskin to have fresh water for washing wounds.
His first day searching didn’t get a lead. Its so close that in late afternoon Calle skis back to his own cabin. A warm rest wondering if the next night noise is that angry bear.
<CALLE 025 shield made>
-
Another day searching that area. Though half the search time went into building a shelter, extra spruce mats and guard traps. This is placed on a middling lake. Its near the center of area to search too. If wounded badly or freezing its a safety shelter. As for this night it is safer to go back to Axe Rapids again.
The next day can be bolder knowing the safety shelter is in place. It is cold. North Wind is still playing its tune with its children at play. Thinking of making a fire Calle focuses on skiing along the forest edge looking only ahead for tracks. Making his way toward that safety shelter he spots tracks!
Broad crescents.
Those aren’t bear tracks.
Lifting his head up Calle sees a small bull elk that is already a little fatigued. Well that’s a worthy hunt. A laugh chuckles out thinking of the elk that became a bear. This could well end up much the same.
<CALLE 026 small bull elk>
-
Skiing drives the elk into the spruce. There its a series of switch backs and circling where surely the elk is resting. Its tracks become speckled with reindeer. Both being hoofed animals its quite confusing at times. Either would do for a big stock of meat.
Breaking off in wide rim to hub search Calle spots the small elk through the spread out pines of the adjoining mire. Its fleeing brings it back onto the existing trails in the spruce. By noon Calle breaks off this hunt. Back to bear searching with no finds. Calle camps out in the prepared shelter with a stump sized block amid the fire stones. He sleeps fine.
Back to the cabin then. Since Calle could stay out searching so much he can fish on the river again. A trout and a salmon come in this night. A good catch! Calle remember to cut of parts of the trout to restore trap baits and for future fishing bait.
There is the question of a possible bear attack. Calle sets out to build a nearby bear trap. He stops though. He sings a song of thanks to the woods and river spirits. They were with him in the struggle against North Wind. Today is the 1st day of the 6th week before summer meaning the deepest cold has passed. North Wind has journeyed back to the ice palace to feast the new guests and play their games until the next winter.
Day 2 of the 6th week before summer
Arrived at the Sacred Trail. Nothing in the traps. Damn Passage yields an arctic fox with the warning of spotting wolves in the distance.
Day 6 of the 6th week before summer
Calle’s quiver was bursting with an additional dozen raven fletched arrows and five wood blunts. Its still the deep snow season. These will let him take risks at shooting game.
What what would really be good is a stronger bow. Making a bow could be done. A longbow perhaps? Best if the wood dries for … Calle tries to recall. It would be a month. Would he even stay here that long? Searching for good trees he wonders about finding adler. South west there are Reemi villages with groves. Checking those they definitely could make good bows. Logging a tree here feels like stealing. Then how would he get it back to the cabin? Quarter it carry just the one part?
Calle decides to ski into the town. Asking about a bow they directed them to a longbow freshly made this winter by Kuopia. Calle trades his shortbow and 5 of the trade arrows leaving the raven fletched for himself. The rest of his initial arrows he trades for a basket of hemp seeds, having learn how nutritious it is as bread.
<CALLE 027 new archery set>
-
As he skied back to Axe Rapids Calle went up the hills. He saw a distant elk but couldn’t close with it. During his searches he studied the longbow. Once back at Axe Rapids he looked in this forest. There were a few adler trees. There could be enough time to dry them. It would be good to develop this skill. He searched for an adler that was fairly straight. Up the slope amid a cluster of spruce he picked one that had been shielded by the winds giving it a straighter trunk than most.
(Game wise chopping the adler gave slender trunks not a full sized trunk. So I took down a nearby spruce as well to represent the time investment.)
The next day his splitting axe made quick of fulfilling its purpose. Four quarter logs were stood against the cabin exterior. Dry winter air would keep pulling the moisture out. 30 days would be shortly before summer time. He can’t use all of them himself. These would be useful trade goods when he decided to start his life after the first winter challenge was won. Calle’s confidence had grown. He respected North Wind and always would. He had managed to get past North Wind once on his own now.
Day 3 of the 5th week before summer
For a few days he searched. This was the time of deep snow. Skiing turned the rivers into roads. Bogs were easy to cross. He searched for a few days. While visiting the bear hunt shelter he spotted across the lake a reindeer!
Skiing across the lake he comes to the shore a little west of where he saw it. He hoped now that by crossing at an angle he might better spot tracks. Moving eastward a poke of shore is the reindeer. Away flies a raven arrow from the long bow. It gouges a wound in the reindeer’s thorax.
Pursuing on a broad head arrow to the abdomen bleed a while. It kept moving around the mire. A few shots miss, a few hits. The reindeer collapses. Calle skis up. With his hunting knife of several years he stabs the neck. Calle speaks quietly to soothe it passing. Once it stops breathing he puts out cranberries as thanks and food for its crossing.
Skiing and quartering on the mire Calle brings over a hundred pounds of meat in. There at the cabin are fox tracks with the fox caught in one of the medium predator traps. Ha! While cleaning the reindeer skin a hare dashes around and into a trap. Blessed bounty!
< CALLE 028 Blessed bounty>
-
It took into the next day to process all this. The reindeer hide Calle is resoaking to dehair. With the worst of winter over what will be needed in the future isn’t fur clothing but leather. Three quarters of the reindeer is hung to start drying. It will be finished around the same time as the drying quarter logs. Enough meats from the three animals are roasted or left raw in the cellar. This is weeks of food without any fishing needed. A chance to build goods or finish the cabin.
Rain splatters down. Rain not snow. The snows that made the ski hunt possible will be weakening. Maybe a few days or a week it will last. The season of slush. Clearly North Wind has gone.
Once the rain stopped the slush froze as a crust on the deep snow. There was still good skiing. With so much food, already having a shelter and stockpiles of materials Calle had a moment of no worries. He could question major projects with what he had. Should he make a water craft better than his raft with crude ties? Should he go ski hunt another animal while he could?
< CALLE 028 Blessed bounty>
-
Day 5 of the 5th week before summer
Considering back and forth. Only one of the possibilities really needs to happen in the next few days. That is catch another animal so its meat dries out about the same time as the reindeer. What he learned is to use the viewing scanning across lakes and mires. Going north he saw an elk briefly but couldn’t find its tracks.
Searching he met a woodsman.
“Can you help me,” began the woodsman, “I gotten lost. My name is Ruurikki. By your dress we are both Reemi. Will you help a fellow tribesman?”
Calle laughed, “Yes of course.”
His felt rose high in his chest. A few months ago he was at the start of his First Winter challenge. Here he is now the local expert to guide another.
Ruurikki bent forward hands on knees taking a deep breath.
Ruurikki said, “Just any village to clear my head. It may have been the forest cover wrapped around my mind. When you are disorientated or a little lost sometimes the forest covers you. We were once with the trees. Its them calling someone back to them. Then they are deeply lost. Perhaps never seen again. Unless someone else who is still in the world of people can lead them out.”
Calle pursed his lips, “There are several villages near. It won’t take long. Loru’s Corner is a few hours walk west.”
Together they went west. Around a lake’s north edge. North east of that was a stand of spruce in the mires that might make a great hunting look out. If the spirits were friendly there.
At Loru’s Corner Ruuriki patted Calle in thanks. He then explained a hunter’s way he knew. The bear being great hunter always finds its prey. To carry bear teeth with you is to call that blessing about you. You’ll find more hares and game birds with them.
“Thank you for this teach. Be safe here,” Calle said, “I once fought a bear and won. Its teeth may be at my camp.”
-
Scan hunting Calle probes a little farther north spotting a cliff. Next to cliff he sets up a shelter and two guard traps. In the morning one of the traps has caught a bird.
Heading east he comes to Damn Passage, where he fought the angry bear whose skull he gave a home and teeth are now guiding his hunting. Wolves had been seen around here. No game today. With a bit of the bear’s power with him Calle decides to disarm these traps. It doesn’t seem right to leave the traps to wound an animal that might not be checked once Calle moves on. That sort of thing might have angered the spirits in the first place.
Nearing the original Sacred Trail camp an elk is seen across a mire. Catching up works this time. Its a mother with a baby. A momentary consideration of leaving the mother to raise the cub is met with the needs to provide. A broad head arrow is loosed and misses. Those iron heads aren’t something Calle can yet make for himself. Luckily keeping up the track he finds it a few minutes later. As Calle tracks it into a spruce forest evening begins to close in. Calle decides that this is a good sign to stop this hunt of mother with child.
Day 2 of the 4th week to summer
Calle had slept at Sacred Trail. In the morning he disarms the traps here. It really feels like he has emerged from the challenge. Winter wasn’t over yet. Coming to these traps though was a bit more of a chore now that Axe Rapids was producing from fishing, local trapping and hunting. Spirits can grow angry if traps keep animals suffering. To a Reemi keeping ties to the spirit world are important. As thanks to Sacred Trail providing what it did, for it had, he puts out berries.
Calle made a wide circle around the cabin. He didn’t see any more large animals.
“You don’t always get a kill on a hunt,” Calle said, “It was good to see them. The forest and river are already providing. Time then for a big build project. A wooden punt, a finnish punt, seems good. Its durable, sturdy, can carry cargo yet can still be carried.”
(Finnish Punt is a modded item from the BAC based on real life Finnish boats
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kW7BdhOZZ_c&t=4s )
A yelp. Another yelp.
Just after making that choice Calle scoots to see the source of the noise. A fox has been caught. It dangling on the fox board. Stuck up right to hold weight the top has a W shape. When the fox leaps a paw gets caught in the bottom notch. Bait is put on the center spike to encourage the jump. Its important the board be sturdy in the ground to stay upright on the leap and struggle. Calle hadn’t reset this trap in months. Is this a sign from the forest to support his choice?
Thanks are giving to the forest and water spirit of fox and grouse meat. Calle appreciates their being at peace with him. Amid the project work he can reset the traps here and fish. Maybe a day or two hunting for a break in the future.
Among the tasks for the project is to make an adze. This is different version of axe with the blade crossways to the handle. Without iron Calle will need a stone one. That takes a good stone. After hours of maintaining the Axe Rapids traps Calle heads to the mountain to the south west. There he goes through picking out suitable stones and rocks. A whetstone would also be good, a flat small grit stone for sharpening tools and arrows heads.
Days of work has seen Calle prepare a good list. A stone adze will be used in hollowing out a tree for the punt. A pair of wooden tubs, for crafting and trade. A sanding block which has been good with wood working.
The reindeer leather has started being used for clothing. Better three finger paws replace the rough bear ones. Calle had long wanted a pair of shin guards as shins get scraped by bushes and ice so much more than anything but your feet. A leather cap for rainy days if not wearing his furs and just that more warmth. Making a shirt would use up the six and half pounds of the reindeer leather left so Calle holds off that for now. That big section will join the craft work with the various bird skins being used until now.
< CALLE 031 Leather clothes>
-
Day 1 of the 3rd week before summer
Since upcoming tasks will need pitch Calle skied north toward a cluster of pine trees. Near Axe Rapid he found a few bits of pine tar. These are often seen as the colored lumps or sticky paths on pine trees. Where the tree was wounded it makes these to heal. Its a big part of making a glue or pitch.
Traveling Calle’s eyes went wide.
Its a wild sow. Several others running nearby. At least three wild pigs in the pack. Sneaking, shooting, recovering among the horribly churned up crusty snow. These pigs have been foraging area for a while. Two arrows get into one sow giving her a limp. She is still vigorous enough to get out of sight then the sea of jumbled tracks confuse Calle. There is even hour old elk tracks in the mix.
Rain pats down from the sky. Muddled crusty trails wriggle with riverlets of water. Sounds are muffled by the rain. Calle makes a wider rim around hub search.
Between spruce he can see a big sow. Its not the pig that has two of his arrows. Its likely the grand mother of the herd. Quietly he moves behind then around spruce. Big sow’s head was down snuffling through the slush for food. At two man lengths away Calle sends in one of the expensive broad head arrows. She’s crippled with a deep hindleg strike. Blood bursts out over and over with an artery hit.
Calle pushes his feet waddling on the different length skis without the pole. As he readies his handaxe Big Sow pushes herself through spruce branches. She has strength that one. Calle gets up an arrow that skims another leg. Her progress isn’t far. Calle catches up to bludgeon her with the handaxe’s back. A few blows for her lay down. Calle switches to his hunting knife putting the tip into the neck.
How blood from both wounds pool out. It steams the snow as the rain pushes it widely about. Another neck stab to the sleeping Big sow. Blood pulses from three artery hits.
Once her breathing stops Calle tries to move her. She must weigh nearly three hundred pounds! Her broad skin comes away to deep muscles below with a meat yield close to half her weight. No way can Calle eat this all himself. Villager’s are going to be eating well soon!
Being quite close Calle makes back to Axe Rapids. He cooks patches to preserve some in the cellar. Rotating his stocks Calle cooks up the reserve Reindeer meat. Sow meat will be held as the bait reserve. This still leaves eighty pounds to trade. That plus a tub and a pair of paddles make a decent trade run.
Its a haggle with Calle finally getting an iron pot. Once you start truly cooking that matters a great deal. Calle traded the 80 pounds of sow, the tub, 2 fine paddles, his wooden shield and a bone tipped arrow. He hadn’t planned on the shield. Calle made that one and with the foods stocks he certainly can make another.
<CALLE 032 Calle gets his pot>
-
On his way back is through a pine filled heathland. Along the way inspecting trees brings in the lumps of pine tar Calle wanted. It took time to check the trees for the exposed lumps. Adding the many pine tar chunks to the stockpile at Axe Rapids Calle figured on over 15 pounds. This still had to processed farther.
Calle will make the melting fire outside by the fishing shelter. It already has a ring of rocks and stone for a fire pit. Melting the pine tar down thickens it by driving out moisture. Charcoal is stirred in to make it into a gooey soup. The bits of ash give the tar things to stick to like mortar for stone. The rendered result is sticky black paste. To apply this pitch glue will take heating it up again.
First item to be made with it is a stone hammer glued onto a spruce shaft. A top wedge presses them tightly together. Bindings of spruce bast cord is wrapped on. Pitch glue is pasted on to lock the bindings in place.
<Calle 033 play pause>
-
Day 5 of the 3rd week to summer.
Calle found a spot of good visibility to the west north west. A patch of raised heathland not so tall as a hill yet with a long view in most directions. It is linked to Axe Rapids by the river and reachable by land as well. He set up a shelter and traps for hunting shelter. It pleased him to see the birds flying by.
Returning with no game sightings Calle rafts across to look for a tree to start building the punt. One seems likely not far from the work shelter. Moving past he looked for other candidates. His heart kept singing to him of that first one. Listening the spirits Calle made an offering of the almost last heather petals.
“Forest, thank you for singing to me,” said Calle, “This tree will come from the land to live on the water. All my best will be done to make it strong and swift.”
The low notch for felling was made on the river side. A symbol this tree was meant for water. Cutting the higher notch on higher ground it walloped down. He trimmed away the branches for dragging. Hauling it to the river they started across with Calle talking to the tree.
“This is your first water journey. Feel the water flow. Soon you will be a great swimmer.”
The he spoke to the river.
“Great river spirit. Long have you fed me fish. I have honored you with gifts. You never drowned me and for this I think you. This tree is going to be a boat. Help me teach it how to swim!”
Back across he idled the evening making a stone knife from a chipping rock. He still had his hunting knife. Calle felt he should show that he had this skill. Its smaller size might just fit in among odd shapes too. A check of cellar stocks estimated at least three weeks of food.
Next morning Calle offered the almost last cranberries in offering.
“Spirits of forest and river today begins the transforming. Like the caterpiller wrapped in a cocoon becoming a butterfly this tree is becoming a punt. Watch and guide, see and teach. Together let us make a great boat.”
Chopping begins. The stumps of branches still on are cleared away. A few starting chops then levering the axe in sideways the bark was lifted off. Now Calle had a good look at the log. Eating while studies he turned the log to a way that seemed to suggest a flatter bottom. His eye was calculating the grain to be revealed.
Now cam the first shaping. First he turned it to give a flat strip along the bottom, this to brace it on the ground while working. Next he axed at the ends to give the pointed shape for the bow and lesser point for the stern. It was good exercise working on such a large shape. That was done with the steel of his axes.
Center hollowing to begin. Like he made the block tub and pot with this was to burn the center with fire. This project took that stone adze. Its chopping was scooping motion through the charred center. When needed whacks with the stone hammer could nudge it through the notches where large branches had been. More fire would be set to burn the inside. He packed snow and mud along the edges to keep them from burning.
The processing of charring and scooping is an ancient one. It weakens the wood where you want it leaving the outsides strong. On a break Calle went fishing on his raft. Water slapping rocks sounds amid the gentle snowfall. A jerk on the rod with a snap and yanking the line brings up a trout. Calle removed the head as a gift back to the river. With food stocks well in hand he thought to peel the under skin layer off for a making a different glue. In a few weeks the melting snows would raise the river. Calle looked to his quirky cabin near the shore. He hoped it would be fine. It wasn’t right at the shore but more than a few feet of rise here at the choking rapids would be a problem, especially for the cellar.
A few more days of working was needed. After the layers of charring and adze scooping came the expanding. Heat and steam now were the powers called on. The sides of U like hollow log were thicker at the bottom then thinner going up. Applying heat to make steam softens the wood. With braces inside the U shape become very wide. This would make more water be pushed out. The now V like shape had far greater stability.
Testing of holding water was done and the exterior inspected. More pine glue at times with fine wood shavings was painted over leak points or forming cracks. Calle figured on having used five pounds of pitch glue from fifteen pounds of pine tar. That would need a little time to cool dry.
Calle put his left hand on the boat while his right hand extended over the river. Tipping his hand a few of his heather petals slipped onto the water.
“See how they stay on top of the water?” said Calle, “That is what you will do. You are bigger mighty version of that. So big you will carry me. Be safe with me. I will depend on you to live just as you depended on me to give you life.”
<Calle 034 made Finnish punt>
-
A short paddle confirmed the punt was ready. Ice still blocked the river outside the rapids. He could stand and wiggle without tipping. Calle felt far safer than on the raft. For now that test was over. Calle patted the punt proudly.
That tipping reminded him of the difficulties in carrying supplies. He had traded for a water skin a long time ago. Making canteens was possible by carefully joining two halves. Having more would be handy for managing stores and for trade.
Calle decided to do more baking. Another round of grinding with two stones was tiring. Recalling his early bread only diet he made up several loaves of barley hemp swirl bread that mixed the two types of flour together. It was a lot of working grinding with just found stones. Calle decided he’d make a quern, two stones shaped to the task turned around a wood axe with wood handle. Another example of investing energy into tools for low energy costs later. They are heavy as the weight does the crushing work. The size he planned was still portable certainly with what could be taken on the punt.
Frustration sets in. Making the stones shaped proves very hard. Calle has worked a lot of wood as a Reemi. Rarely do they have to shape stones like this. Having a hammer and whetsone are helping. He decided to reject his first stone as it ended up having a wobble. On later ones he sticks a branch in the ground and ties a cord to it. Passing the cord over the stone acts as a way to see who level they are.
Day 7 of the 2nd week to summer.
After those days stone shaping of the four stones Calle is satisfied with two of them. One of the stones was newly picked just for this. He had crossed the river to find that one. He had choosen it specifically for this. As the assembled quern turns grains and seeds come out as the powder of flour. If he ever married the family would appreciate this.
In the days ahead the reindeer meat has now dried. The amount is enough for six weeks of a long trip by itself. Add to that stocks in the cellar, fished or found along the way.
Cleaving open the dried quarter logs gave access to a shaft mixing the heartwood an outer wood. These four sections were ready to become longbows. Calle’s tool followed his will shaping the wood. Its the bowstrings that fumbled his fingers. The yarn in stock was so handy for crafts with a reserve of nettle yarn he hoped to make clothes. He tried different materials from leather, spun spruce bast and braided bast. Even if coming from well made cords as bow strings were certainly less than ideal.
For the fourth longbow Calle gave into to using the yarns he had. Nearly three spools of nettle yarn were in stock plus a depleted one of hemp. From his guess he was leaving enough nettle for weaving summer clothes. This bowstring came out much better than the rest. Spun smooth it even sounded right when plucked. He blew a few heather petals out into the sky in thanks and hopes of guidance in completing the last one.
This last bow Calle chose that would be his to use. The traded longbow had done good service. Studying it had guided him on making these. There should be a bond between him and the new bow.
In the morning Calle stepped out for his morning drink. Rapids water was cool as he brought to his mouth in a cup of his own making. Standing up he looked to the dawn creeping. The light gave shine on a caught bird. Then a second, third and fourth! Spirits were attuned to him. His decision last night to switch to a bow made here was affirmed by the blessing of this bounty.
“A bow that catches even before its shot!” laughed Calle.
As a few days past the journey from winter to summer was complete. Calle took a look around. He had his awkward yet working cabin, a punt, two months of food, stocks of wood, bone and hides for crafting. Counting his trade goods he would still have a dozen arrows to shoot if he traded twenty away, the three longbows he made, the long bow he bought, 4 canteens, 2 wooden cups and 2 wooden bowls. Calle decided to bring the iron pot with him in case a better one was in the markets.
Now would be a good shopping trip.
<Calle 035 spring equinox shopping>
-
In the morning rather than face the bandits directly Calle made for another village. Five on one is a dangerous fight. It was the village of Birch Rapids, one he hadn’t been to yet. Calle warned them of robbers. Their sage, Aarne, came to hear the news, thought then showed Calle to another wanderer, Tapio. Calle gave Tapio the remaining longbow and six arrows. Aarne stroked his beard and nodded at this.
At another village the hunter Vaino and woodsmen Pertteli joined them. Now it would be four against five. Calle used the rest of trade goods and a good portion of arrows to cover getting them enough food. Calle asks them of their fighting skills. It is decided the extra long bow will be with Pertteli who has won competitions for his shooting skills. Stringing the bow for test pulls Pertteli approved of Calle’s craftmanship.
They moved out into the woods where they further prepared. While the others sparred or practiced with their bows Calle felled a tree. He did this to make them shields. One shield was for Calle and the other for Tapio. Vaino and Pertelli would go into the fight as bowmen. It was by noon the next day this was done. They now began their search. Calle made sure they refilled their water carriers and were well fed.
It was a long trek to the north west. Calle showed them to his cabin where they spent the night. This hero band was the first humans other than Calle to be inside.
In the morning they continued out. Vaino spotted a group of figures on a mire. Closing in they were all relieved that it was foreign traders. There was eight of them with good weapons and armor. They looked quite immune to the robbers. Conversations warned of the robbers and directed the traders to the villages they had come from.
Still early in the morning they came to the area Juuka had seen the robbers. Calle new this area as having been where he caught that reindeer. Now began the real hunt.
<CALLE 036 Four against five>
-
Moving to the area was north north west from Calle’s cabin. There were two shelters Calle had built when exploring. They checked those first. Moving in a tracking line north they saw figures to the south east. Again ready to fight they got closer to find it was the traveling traders.
Farther north was a place with good long viewing in three quarters of a circle. They built a shelter as a hunting blind there. Taipo explained he could only stay a few days more. Vaino wished they could hunt they elk they had seen. Vaino burst out into song. Taipo covered his face at how the robbers would be scared into hiding.
“Its a song to the elk!” snorted Vaino, “Besides maybe the robbers will come to hear the song.”
Another north south line was searched on the west of the first ones. Then on the east side, where once again they met the foreign traders. This time they took the time to study the travellers foot prints. Their boots would likely be different from that of the bandits.
They over nighted at one of Calle’s shelters on the shore of a frozen lake. Taipo told them a story about a wolf romancing the moon. The wolf would grow sad when the moon disappeared only to have hope again when the moon would show its face.
Taipo said, “If we are like the wolf we can have hope that a better day will come.”
<CALLE 037 hunting for bandits>
-
Another morning to search for the bandits. Vaino called them over to look at something in the snow.
Vaino pointed, “This mushroom is black ear. Its poisonous unless well boiled. Many have made the mistake of not boiling it enough.”
Taipo winced, “I that that once and was sick for a week.”
Pertteli added, “Avoiding mushrooms is a good thing. Maybe one day we will grow the edible ones like crops on the trees. A mushroom farm.”
Everyone else laughed at the idea of a mushroom farm.
Searching Vanio pointed out a glutton (wolverine) within bow shot. They tried running it down. Calle figured maybe in chasing it the animal would flee like the bandits taking them there. At least it was fun!
Another night out in the woods. This time camping at the Calle’s other shelter on the river coming out of the lake. This was Pertteli’s idea. If they moved off to a different camp maybe the robbers will think we left and expose themselves.
Taipo added, “If not soon then all are criss crossing as a group may driven them off.”
Vaino said, “Possibly, or seeing its not just one person they are staying hidden. Though its a good idea to circle off and back. They are predators and predators do hide if they think a bigger one is around.”
More searching without finding the bandits. For a while they chased the young bull elk but couldn’t make good shots at it. By noon this day there is more talk of when the have to part ways.
Calle said, “If its true they are hiding then we can make our presence known more. Lets make another shelter. If they do find even more camps they will know they are hunted here. I’ll make you things to take home as payment. All the wood work chopping will be more noise to drive them away.”
For Vaino he made a wooden shield. Pertteli really wished to keep the longbow.
Pertteli spoke, “This longbow is far more payment than this service is true. It would be generous thing. When people ask how the game is brought down I will say it was by a bow of Calle. A good bow from a man both generous and brave. He is was a war party leader when there bandits among the Reemi.”
Calle said, “Those words would be true. All right keep it. May it catch you many elks that you may speak of its origins often!”
For the shelter they made a fire ring of rocks and a stone to draw the smoke that way. A fire was set in it before they left. They wanted there to be sign of people having used it. Moving south Calle had them rest only briefly at the river shelter without a fire. Over night they left back to Calle’s cabin. Though they failed to find the robbers they were all healthy.
Taipo, Vaino and Pertteli offered to do chores around the cabin. They felt it would show their respect for Calle’s leadership. Calle had given a longbow and shields in defend the people if the robbers tried again.
Across the rapids with three working one was felling trees, another cleaning them to building logs while Calle organized. By night fall there was great stock gathered on the west side of the rapids and by raft the first load had come across.
(Sadly I chose to do another reload when it turned out one of them had drowned swimming back after tiring out logging. Wasn’t sure that would be a thing.)
Taipo had to leave first, as he had been explaining. Calle and Taipo patted each other’s shoulders.
“The trip with you that brought this shield may save my life,” Taipo said.
Taipo waved with the shield Calle as he went to find more adventure.
More walls were started when Vaino and Pertelli had to leave. It was a happy parting. They all hoped to visit Calle’s cabin to see how it was finished. Calle noticed how much faster and happier work went when there was a group working on it. With the rivers still frozen his journey couldn’t start. He decided to fix up the cabin walls proper during that time, leaving a good cabin for his friends to find.
Day 2 of the 11th week before midsummer
Calle stood proudly at this cabin. The quick L shape at winter start had become a donut with incomplete walls in deep winter and now at winter’s end had full proper enclosing. There was panel dooring in places yes but those were now more about serving purpose than saving wood. The north had two doors which included the cellar access. East door led to the traps, perhaps later that would be walled up. South was right to the wood stocks for the fireplace. West wet from the cooking area to the rapids for water or stepping out to the fishing shelter. Shutters were in most walls to bring in light from different angles. His sleeping area was against walls for security though a man could get in the various doors of course.
Using a fireplace central for a donut or wheel design has proven great in the winter. There was enough room for dedicated places with there being immediate fire warmth at all of them.
Calle wouldn’t forgot how much faster this was with helpers. When it came time for a new cabin somewhere else both the building and community lessons would be used.
<CALLE 038 Cabin walled>
-
Day 1 of the 10h week to midsummer
Calle had baked up over fifteen pounds of swirl bread, hard tack and flat breads. He was trying to avoid eating into the dried reindeer meat. Those were planned for his great journey. Having the quern, two stones flattened to spin over top each other, had made the grinding so much more efficient.
He had to admit confusion on what do do had set in. In part he just didn’t know when the ice would melt, which if he was on the wrong side of river could be a problem. The last stalk hunt had seen an elk, fired twice, no hits and hours trying to position for more shots.
Recalling a lesson learned that his carpentry was of value to the community he set to work. Crafting arrows was always useful. A few canteens assembled were assembled, a wooden comb for a lady’s hair, paddles and he had a surplus of decent boards. The best boards he had set aside for his own work, like making arrow shafts.
Day 4 of the 10th week to midsummer
Working on arrows Calle stood up to stretch. Through the shutter he saw blotches of grass. The melt was starting! That would put an end to skiing and winter persistence hunting. It also makes it a risk to cross the ice to some of the communities. Ice still clasps the rivers making boating long distances impossible.
With a very heavy load Calle made his way north east. This is the direction of where his challenge started at Sacred Trail. A fitting trip to visit it showing he made it through the winter. At night he slept on the edge of lake in a temporary shelter.
By afternoon his heavy burden of trade goods made it to Quarrel Forest. There are chores to be done and trading to be had.
Old Leemes added, “Over winter the spirits were singing. Its been a long time since youth took me on adventurers. Yet there was a call to prepare for a long trip. It is said that you were on your First Winter Challenge. Perhaps it is for you but I can’t just give it to. I’m old and my skills are what keep me fed.”
Calle, “I am happy to trade but what is it you have to trade?”
Leemes limped guiding Calle over his home. There he reached up to the rafter to bring down a longbow. Its arcs were graceful. Its body toned with a deep oiling. The two tones of its hardwood and outer wood were aligned with the action.
Calle looked it over, “Even my best isn’t this fine. Would you take my own as part of the trade?”
Leemes’s chest chortled, “Ha ha haahh. Weren’t you listening? I’m too old. Now what else do you have in all that bundle holding you down?”
Calle and Leemes bartered for a time. Calle was pleased to have the fine longbow. Improving shooting would yield more game and may tip the tide of battle to victory.
This village also had sheep. That means wool. Calle bartered arrows for spools of yarn. He looked forward to making clothing like socks.
Trading is the movement of goods from one to another. Though Leemes didn’t want Calle’s bow he did trade it to an adventurer which through a cycling of flowing goods and doing chores got Calle a fine net. Passive fishing wasn’t his dream life simply that it could be done while doing other things.
The warming season had also awoken the sap in the trees. Now was a time to harvest barks. In the morning they wished him well.
Arriving at the north part of Quarrel Forrest a greeting came from Toipa!
“Calle you still breath! Have you heard of the Njerpez to the south?”
Calle was startled. They were well inland.
Toipa added, “They say the mystic forces of our peoples battle with theirs as well. They may be to quell the powers rising that are brought with the success of your First Winter.”
Calle pondered, “There could be more than one.”
Toipa replied, “I wish I could go with you again. This town already hired me to protect them will they plant their crops.”
“May our stars and moon cross paths again,” replied Calle.
Completing his trades here Calle headed north toward the Sacred Trail.
<CALLE 039 fine longbow>
-
Calle reached the Sacred Trail camp in the evening. It was sad to see it look neglected yet fulfilling that he had done even better than this. It was a sign of his skills and resources growing. There was time enough to press onto the original release point. There he slept.
Waking up in the rain he took stock of himself and belongings. Both had grown from a boy into a man. He decided to leave a comb he made there as a proof that he had come back. He notched his name into it so anyone finding it would be sure.
Trekking back to Axe Rapids he knew the way. He was no longer in an unknown place. The woods were familiar to him and the spirits with him. Reinforcing this was his known paths led him to where he had setup shelters dotting the land. If he had an emergency they were close by for safety.
Arriving at Axe Rapids he stored various barks he had collected. Punting out amid the rocks Calle set the net next to large rocks. Diverting water should better guide the fish in.
Since it was now bark season Calle went across the rapids. He selecting a birch, felled it then stripped off the bark as a sheet. This was a mass harvest rather than fussing with strips in the wild.
<CALLE 040 Axe Rapids with birch>
-
A few simple days at the Axe Rapids cabin followed. Still the river was blocked with ice yet the melting ice was to frail to risk walking on. This was one of the land’s seasons of difficult travel. In the winter the rivers were like roads to skiers and in the summer for boaters. Right now they blocked travel unless you carried a punt, like his own punt, or rebuilt with materials carried with you. Neither was critical to his life.
After resetting the dozens of Axe Rapids traps Calle went to collect more pine tar. With the weak ice river he couldn’t cross the rivers to the forest to the south. He would poke around the thin mires on this side. He hoped to soon make a cask, a good sized container for water that would be great for his long summer journey.
Forest life was poking up. Having arrived in winter it wasn’t possible to really know what plants there would be. Right at the cabin were blueberries, hardly his favorite. Along the north shore were some form of lake reeds that might grow edible bulbs. In the mire crowberries, bilberries and heather were starting. Even if he didn’t plant fields here anyone living in his cabin could have a decent life.
As the time past the spring equinox passed Calle felt a bit of sadness. Though he had his victory he was trapped. His plan for the great journey couldn’t happen until the rivers cleared. In the meantime he was trying to stay active. Across the rapids he set up a set of lever deadfall traps. Since he wasn’t over there often they might catch game. Attempts at net fishing had floundered. A twisted net is an empty net. It was a skill he needed to learn. Fishing in his youth had been boyish style with yarn off of woodland poles that were nothing more than delimbed saplings.
At times he studied the new bow. Like the trade bow he had kept in reserve it wasn’t made by him. He studied its shape often. Its gain flow mattered as did the proper bowstring. Things he hoped to attempt again once he moved to a new home.
The idea of making a cask was giving him something to focus on. The pine tar lumps he gathered were rendered down to make the glue. Then fibees were worked in with the glue to make the caulking. Birch bark was worked into strips to fibers then spun into cords. These would hold become the binding on the cask.
<CALLE 041 Cask prep>
-
Day 2 of the 8th week to midsummer
Stink of pine tar and ash caulking filled the air. Aligning a whittled tongue of an uprights into the grooves of the base board squeezed down on thin coat of caulking. A thin coat on the uprights edge as the neck board was pushed in. Round and round this gave the main shape of the cask. A cord was put across notches on the outside of the boards.
Caulking went on the top tongues then the top with its draining hole was tapped on. Black ooze of the caulking with its fibers squished out like a finger pressed beetle. Call rounded a second cord about the upper waist of the cask. A pair of cords crossed each other to squeeze top and bottom together.
As the cask was know in shape Calle applied to more caulking to the outside of all seams, vertical and horizontal. He gave gently pushes with the back tip of the stone knife. Nothing hard nor sharp to cut just thin to press. While it was cooling he whittled a stopper for the casks filling hole. In the stopper he cut a ring to secure a short cord to tie it to the case to prevent random loss. Once it all cooled Calle would retighten the cords. It had gone well. It was a project of many steps including wandering the pines for tar.
Once filled the cask would hold around a third of Calle’s weight in fresh water. Plenty for any great journey or building an inland shelter. With the caulking supply he had Calle assembled two more casks for trade.
Calle looked to his punt. It was the biggest tradeable item he had made, even the casks were tiny compared to it. What if made another one for trade? For that he would need a lot more pine tar. Crossing the rapids he searched the thin pine mires for enough. Exhaustion took him with the season and woods both feeling safe to sleep under the stars.
When he awoke he came back to the river to see large blocks of ice gliding by! The rivers had finally unfrozen. As if in agreement the net finally had a fish caught. Bringing it ashore Calle watched a big eagle-owl land near the cellar. There came a thud as it got snared in one of the guard traps. Sea and forest both were congratulating Calle.
Calle finished mixing the pine glue that would be used to make the next punt. He had started shaping a log. Now though he had a stirring in his heart. Should he make this punt taking a few days or leave with the good spirit sign. Calle looked to the river, the ice chunks were flowing. One banged on a rock of the rapids. It seemed wiser to take a few days to let the ice weaken further before paddling up river.
There would be another problem. How could he possible move both punts at once? He could sail one to a village to sell it then return. That though seemed against the spirits. How could he move?
He gave things a try. Bundling it all up even hoisting his first and only punt up. Gathering tools, foods and supplies it became too much too carry already. It take a while of planning to figure out what to take and what not too.
Calle made sure to collect the figurines of the elk that became a bear and his cellar fox guardian. Shaping the quern that now made the flour for his bread had been a chore. He made sure to bring that in the punt. He had the leathers, furs, casks and tubs. Bone to make arrow heads. The list was quite long. For food there was peas, barley grains, rye grains, hemp seeds and the dried reindeer. There was the first trade bow and better second. A good wooden shield along with his axes, hunting knife and stone knives. It all barely fit in the punt. There would be no way for him to bring a second punt.
Calle looked back to the pointed log that was becoming the second punt. Near it was all the stones and bracing for expanding it latter. Perhaps one day one of his friends or another Reemi would find the cabin with its fishing shelter. Maybe one of them would complete the second punt.
Now on day 5 of the 8th week to midsummer Calle began he great voyage.
>>>
(I suspect not just weight but item count limit needed to avoid bugs was being hit. Helped to have Calle carry many light weight things. He has a great deal of wealth compared to his frail start.)
-
Having figured out how to balance the load he carried and the punt’s cargo Calle looked over his homestead of Axe Rapids. The spirits had been kind to him. He decided he needed to respect them in one more way. He went about disarming all his traps on both sides of the river. This would prevent needles suffering of an animal. Such things were viewed badly by the spirits.
This done Calle floated the punt on the river. There was two ways to go of course. Upriver was northwest along the Reemi lands for a while. Then perhaps portages to get to the great inner lakes. The other was to go south east, crossing near the nerjpez camp. To the coast this path would go. Then he go east or west. East along the coast should lead to the rivers that would link directly to the great inner lakes. Those lakes holding access between the north and south people while funneling migration routes around them.
“South east,” Calle said.
Moving with the flow Calle felt the river spirit energizing his movement. With serveral hundred pounds of cargo carried and loaded it was far harder work than Calle had expected. To reduce weigh the cask had been emptied. For now he was on the river with all the drinking water he would need.
Journey down river his exhaustion was fatiguing him. This worried him. The place he had to camp was in line with the area of nerjpez camp. Their patrols might not come to the river though a hunter certainly might. After landing once he shifted the punt to a U shaped grove. There a shelter was raised. A bit worried he did sleep well enough.
On the morning he made it to the “Luru’s corner” that was on the north bank of the river. This would be his last chance to trade for a while. The red haired woman Hetta was gathering plants near the shore. She greeted Calle with hopes that he could do chores for Niko.
As to the work the frosts of winter had damaged one of their chimneys. Now the weather was warmer they had begun tearing the old one done. A good many stones were needed to make the repair. What interested Calle was to obtain a woodsman’s axe, which this chore alone certainly hadn’t paid for. As is the way of the people in this age what followed was a mass of haggling in the blanket style.
The village put down two blankets. On one they put the woodsman’s axe. Calle began putting different sets of things on the other blanket. An elder came to judge whether they items were of fair value, counting in the work Calle had done and his leading the war party that scared away the robbers. Metal is scarce with the woodman’s axe having several pounds being of significant worth.
Onto the pile Calle chose to put on some of winter furs. Those were early ones without the best skills and damaged hides, like fur leggings made from the angry bear. They would be of use to villagers in the season to come. Calle planned that he had the summer and fall to catch another animal to make fresh ones. Then came two of the wooden casks leaving him the first he made and three wooden tubs.
“I could use a bowl,” said Hetta.
Calle added a bowl to the pile along with a few tanned bird skins from the most recent catches. Calle asked for a few arrows to, the easiest trade good among the peoples. Then the elder nodded. The woodsman’s axe was his. Back at the punt Calle was happy with his trio of axes: woodsman also called felling axe, splitting axe that was good for getting the boards for carpentry and his fine hand axe for delicate work. That night he dreamed of what his new cabin might be like.
A few days followed of paddling. Coming out of the river he went east soon finding the start of the great by. It makes a northward notch into their land. A distance east of the eastern bay would be the center of the Nerjpez colonizing. He scouted for the rivers that would lead northward.
One river mouth was a strange wide mess that was such a shallow ford he had to lighten the punt to get it across. Calle wasn’t confident of exploring up that river.
<CALLE 043 Scouting bay>
-
Calle took a day going back west along the bay. However he could find no river openings. The northern most river was that strange ford. He wondered if it was so because of the Njerpez or their spirits. Maybe they tricked a beaver into starting the blockage then the river’s debris had matted up there.
Sleeping in the bay’s west bank he was going south now. Finally he found a river he named “Spruce Passage”. Its course though likely missed the main inner lakes. He spent hours paddling north east. The coast he hit was east of the ford heading south east. Calle became worried that this was leading to the Nerjpez colony.
<Calle 044 finding the main river>
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Day 4 of the 7th week before midsummer pointing
Portaging the ford Calle made his way up he called “Slopen Rapids” for there were several fords and rapids. Jagged hard glistening rocks weren’t yielding to the river. Snags formed at various places. The sun had barely cleared the mountain tops he punted into the first lake. This was indeed the great passage north. Animals of different types howled or bayed. It was a deep wilderness. More up river paddling brought him to where he figured he was in the lands of the Kaumo tribe.
Day 5 of the 7th week before midsummer pointing
Paddling around the curves of rivers and lakes Calle spotted multiple then smoke trails. A little farther he made out the buildings. He came up to the shore to walk into the Kamulais village of “Button stream”.
There were more elderly men here than expected. They explained was a northern Kaumo village near the lands of the Owl Tribe that live on the north eastern coast. At times they traded with Owl’s so that they didn’t have to be so long away from their coast. A brief trade was made of a bird skin for a spool of yarn.
From their the waters wove back and forth creating various sized islands. The river branches he took led him to a medium lake. Calle wasn’t sure he would build a cabin here. It certainly seemed a good spot for a fence line or winter hunting. He pulled up to make yet another travel shelter.
In the morning he went back to the last time he had too chose a river. This time the way opened up to a great lake. It was hard to see all the banks at once. There was even a swan puttering along the shore! Near where he had seen the swan Calle set up a shelter nestled tightly among the spruce. Later he would learn this place was called “Kirri’s rapids”.
The Kirri’s rapids shelter was where a peninsula narrowed to almost make it’s southern portion an island. Being noon Calle decided to enjoy strolling after over a week of paddling. This place would be even more interesting if he could find a hill or cliff. One as a good hunting look out that might have fed iron into a mire. Stepping through spruce branches a few bow shots away on a mire Calle could see a bear!
<Calle 045 Kirri’s rapids bear>
Calle studied where he was when he saw the bear. He decided he should prepare properly. Going back to the shelter he switched around his gear and dressed in layers for protection from violence. Calle was amazed just how rich the area was in animals. When he got back to the sighting place the bear had strolled only a bow shot farther north.
Call got off only one long shot at the bear. Tracking didn’t regain contact though Calle did find his first fresh berries of spring, crow-berries. That was probably what the bear had been looking for. Looking at his gain Calle spotted an arctic fox a bow shot south. His shot was too high with the arrow soon recovered.
“Indeed an area worth exploring!” Calle said.
It didn’t take long for him to find a mountain rising out of the heathland trees. On it and its hills were various plants growing where the trees hadn’t gotten purchase. Among them was a herb Calle knew: roseroot, known for reducing pain and restoring health.
Down the slopes amid the trees Calle slept. In the morning he made a protected shelter with trap alarms, firewood and 1-1-1-3 trail markers pointing to it. His confidence was growing he might settle near the swan sighting. An offering of heather flower petals was blown into the air to show appreciation to the forest spirit here.
Seeing other high ground to the south he trekked there. He had over a month of dried reindeer meat still in stock. On this ground he could see a lake to the south that surely he could find a river connection too. Between the two mountains the water was draining through lichen filled forest to heath land to mires. There would be good odds of finding bog iron for metal crafting or perhaps at his lake.
Exploring on foot proved wise. There was no navigable water link from this lake to the others. Had he not disembarked to hunt the bear he would never have found this. There were dots of small lakes then farther south a larger lake that might link to the river system. Almost perfectly hidden by this lake was a thicket. In it was naturally growing nettles, useful threads, rowan trees and adlers.
Moving around the large lake Calle’s mind was now on the possibility of homestead. Where to put the cabin? How close to the iron mire? Where to make a boat shelter for going south? How close could he be to the river system? Being back off the river network was useful for defense. These lakes and small lakes made natural diverters for trapping large game… like the elk right there!
Though his bow shot missed Calle was convinced this was an excellent place to live!
Punting back down river he followed the west bank closely. His eyes were keen to find a link to that lake. For a full day he went finding himself near the Kaumo village. Perhaps there was no link afterall. Doubting this he beached the boat. Hiking southwest he did soon see another river running parallel. However his heart was stirring. The swan sighting had been such a blessing. He didn’t want to make his home to far from there.
Calle did press on the southward trek looking for a link he was now sure existed somewhere. He was south of the “Button Stream” village when the west bank went from river to lake. On that lake was could be the river he sought. Calle spotted the village of “Point stream”. He paddled over to speak with them. They told of him that there more lakes and river links north west. Raiders rarely came that deep as some of the river mouths are very hidden.
More river scouting over a few days did get Calle to the lake cluster south west of the swan sighting. He probed the shores of this southern set of lakes and rivers. While floating in thought he had decided to return when swinging around he say a swan again! Was it the same swan? Both places were blessed.
Confounded as he was Calle spent another day scouting. Where he guessed the two networks were closest he set up a lean to shelter. This would act as one end of a portage trail.
Back on his original rivers to the north Calle scouted up a hill. There he found wild turnips. He noted to himself to back after midsummer to harvest them.
Day 6 of the 6th week before winter
Nearing the first swan sighting Calle again saw that bear on the mire. Rather than hunt it he decided to explore north past the swan sighting. Around he found a river that was reaching into owl lands. Along its twists and rocks he found a rapids that wouldn’t freeze. The was “Drizzle stream”. He set up a simple shelter here. Farther north the river went past a hill. Climbing up revealed several distant hills and that this was leading to large lake to the northwest. This final lake was “Point neck” said be skimming the south western boundary of the Owl tribe range.
Choosing where to homestead wasn’t going to be easy. Deeply he wished he could ask an elder. Having different types of terrain was good. The edge affect principle let you access the different things each had to offer. With swan sightings on both the north and south river forks Calle felt the whole area was blessed. Thus he could choose many spots.
That large inner lake was attractive. Though it had no river link that was also good to reduce the risk of raiders showing up. A short portage could connect him to either river. It would be great place for fence trapping.
North of the lake and west of the first swan sighting was that cluster of mountain and hills likely to yield iron.
The swan sighting itself had a peninsula south of it. Scouting by boat showed it full of growing berries and herbs. It was like having farm fields on hand. Those wouldn’t actually require regular tending.
The bear was on the mire again so Calle decided to once again try hunting it.
<Calle 046 Much scouting done>
-
Scouting the mire discovered bear tracks. A confusion is cleared up when its realized its a mother with a cub. Potentially the most dangerous thing in the woods. That the spirits say is too much (reloaded after the momma and cub combo won but they were limping).
A big bear is also about, probably a male. This is tracked and engaged with archery. Calle’s first arrows missed. The broad heads prone to causing bleeding are fired and missed. Another bone tipped raven arrow is fired to hit. Now the bear rushes.
Calle rushes off arrow shots as it charges. Then its bow away, shield up and handaxe. They batter at each other. The arrow that did hit is causing bleeding. Calle backs up behind the shield which stops most of the swipes.
Calles shrieks as a swipe skips along the bottom of the shield clipping the clothing of by his groin. Its slow bleeding bellows with pain.
The bear feels the hand axe blows. It staggers away. Keeping his head Calle resumes bow fire getting a few hits while the bear closing again.
Again the pounding on the shield and replaying hand axe. Dazed the bear is stumbling about. Backing up again Calle fires off the last of his arrows.
Confident yet cautious with the talking groin wound Calle sways up the felling wood’sman axe in two hands. The heavy blows by edge and back get deeper on the bear. A gushing neck wound makes it a matter of time.
Finally as the bear dies Calle catches his breath. Its night. The sun and moon are enough he had hardly noticed.
“This could have gone on the other way,” says Calle.
Reaching down he get the guts to spill out on the ground. The hide off the animal takes time to pull off. Together this lets the animal start cooling. Staggering from the energy coming off him Calle stumbles over to a pool of water. Mastering his fear the elders said. Calle focuses his mind on a task, cleaning the hide.
After that his energy is calmer. The natural pain killer of the fight has passed. He looks inside his pants to see the giblets are still where they ought to be. He has been bleeding slowly. Capillary cutting not artery. With herbs he had been gathering he washes the wounds wriggling in nettle to wipe it out. Then one of the bandages is tied on with more nettle to promote healing. That and a bruise is all he suffered.
Getting to the butchery takes hours. Nearly 200 pounds of meat are available. With a nearby pine tree Calle approaches. First popping out the teeth the skull given flower petals as a sacrifice. According to tradition Calle hangs up the head. Now with all the meat he can get to work on his cabin and even trade with the Kaumo. Hunts for his arrows find 2 of the 3 broad heads and 10 of the other arrows. A few were lost.
<Calle 047 Got a bear>
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A heavy load of work followed. At the beach Calle roasted the meat. A few portions were left to use as uncooked meats for traps and fishing bait. Having a decent idea from his days of scouting Calle hurried to an area he had in mind. It was on the isolated lake along a pennisula hidden from almost all of the large lake though it did have a view of mire east.
He quickly dug out and planked a cellar. Ah! He was such a fool to have not done that first! Even with the cellar and bait allotment Calle figured a 100 pounds might spoil before he could use it. This then he rushed over to the nearest Kaumo settlement. He had seen it when scouting rivers but never gone. They called their village “Maiden’s stream”.
Calle wanted to get a cabin up. With all that bear meat he could bring in a few workers. Calle hired the Kaumo tribesmen Sampsa the Strong and Konsta the Carver. For the rest of the meat he traded for what smoked meat they could spare and a beaver fur. It wasn’t a fur he planned to craft with. This was just a trade for something valuable that wouldn’t spoil like the meat. The villagers were happy to have such a good amount of meat. The mothers were already talking about making a stew with spring plants.
There is a wounded traveller here. Hyvaneuvo was wounded by one of the bears of the land to the south east. He offers sword lessons in exchange. Something Calle hadn’t ever really had. If the spear can be recovered it will happen.
(saving as hired help have a habit of buggy deaths)
<Calle 048 Hired help>
-
Though Calle had come for help building the Kaumo are interested in hunting the bear. Its what their people do after all. Barely fitting in the punt the three head along the river. Calle is the first to spot the signs of the battle. Searching they spot the shelter.
As they come in the bear charges out!
Konsta takes a cracking hit to his ribs, a fracture straining with every breath. With the three of them Calle is able to wield his felling axe viciously. A battering hit bruises Calle’s shoulder. Between the workmen’s cuts and Calle’s walloping axe the bear is soon being skinned. Then searching the camp and recovering the spear is a simple matter.
The tale is well received. Konsta is seen by the elders. No one seems to have an infection. As for the meat there is more than they can handle. They will roast it and take to the work site.
Several days of work has the trio getting the walls started. Calle has selected a natural U shape that will elevate on three sides. It will be a much bigger interior than before, possibly even have a dividing room. They told Calle that this place has an old name: “Linenfell” though what that means is debated.
Day 7 of the 4th week before midsummer
Konsta and Sampsa left days ago. Since then Calle had been fed by the bear meats Calle from the quick cellar. That quick cellar had been raised is a small clearing with enough room to also have a shelter, fire ring and storage pile. This was warded with guard traps. Now cabin walls were enough that he could lay boards as a slanted roof over floor boards so he kept sleep under a hard roof if he wanted. The weather was quite warm now.
To be honest the on hand meat Calle would carry was getting stale or souring bit by bit. It left him a little ill almost all the time.
For a change of pace Calle went back to the mire where he had taken the first bear. The berries it had been munching had become plump. They were so juicy in the mouth. A long awaited fresh berry! While strolling a glint of light flicked at Calle’s eye. Walking over Calle recognized a fetching feather. He found the third broad head arrow!
<Calle 049 Found broadhead>
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The joy of finding the lost broadhead arrow still filled Calle’s heart. Months ago he had traded for five of them. Being back up to three meant much better odds at a deep wound on large game. These had a really wide cutting surface made of iron. On hitting it was many times more likely to cut an artery. That’s the part he couldn’t yet make himself. It gave him a hope that the spirits here were in tune with him. Its like they had held onto the arrow for a while until passing a judgement to let him stay.
He now took a breath. Plants. He was going to gather plants like the berries. He could also plant. It was past the early spring. With a tiny bit of roof, the shelter and two bear furs he would be quite warm until North Wind came back. Could he rush in a few crops?
It takes a lot of work to turn up ash for crops. Its late fallow season. This isn’t seedtime. He might get peas and broad beans up in time. Turnips certainly a possibility though he found wild ones. Nettle, sorrel and yarrow can go in.
(see http://www.unrealworld.fi/wiki/index.php?title=Agriculture_(Skill) )
Hiking back to the Linenfell homestead Calle checks his cellar. That little bag of peas for his starter crops are there. Grunting Calle realizes he doesn’t have any broad beans left. Sitting down he wipes his face. Martti. That was the name of the Reeemi villager that traded him broad beans. In his early struggles Calle had needed to eat them. Calle had lived. He didn’t regret eating to live just that he never got any more.
Normally the field is put in a little ways away from the cabin. With only a few crops to plant could he set up near the cabin? He had found an open ground sunk down just into the base of the pennisula. It was a cup in the ground like it had been pounded with a sky. No trees were there. Calle decided to do the ash turning there.
By being a little ways off the field will let animals come in. That is a problem unless you are a meat eater. Then the fields are themselves a giant bait. (There is also a game issue if too many objects are in an area random gear gets lost so it is very much recommended not to have big fields next to your home)
With the supply of peas being limited to only three pounds Calle selected an area amid the trees just off the open ground. This critical field he surronded with traps for birds and squirrels thus turning peas into meat. In the most obvious large passage instead he made a pit trap. This meat for reindeer or elk. Doing this shelter had been better than all being in the open. A little disaster happened when two of the trees had caught fire but it didn’t spread far. The guarded pockets would be handy espicaly with limited seeds like the peas. Open area fields would also go up.
The area was yielding results already. A half dozen birds caught whose cries had attracted a lynx. For the lynx a medium weight trap was assembled and baited with fresh bird meat. A mallard was paddling on the lake water. Calle smiled watching it. With his foods stocks his heart was happier watching the mallard live.
As an extended work site Calle had put a shelter in a small pocket of trees. This was guarded with traps for alarm and had caught one of the birds. It was a short walk to the lake shore giving access to water. Here a tanning station was setup to treat the birds as they were caught.
Days of work say the fields slowing growing. Still far form sustaining him alone is should multiple the few peas into enough seed for next year. To gather stones for guard traps Calle climbed. A clip clop sound drew his attention. There at a long bow shot was an elk. Crouched Calle studied it. He could start shooting though it could take several hits to wound it enough. This was summer with no snow to slow it nor make it easy to track. Calle smiled he would trust instead to trapping at the his fields. That elk might well come visit and into a pit trap it could go.
It was a very tiresome task though good to be working the land in a suitable wilds. Calle worked up a second guarded pocket of ash turned ground. Calle figured he has only planted as much as the peas as he though there would be time for. A third was still left. Several lynx traps were up now baited with messy raw bear cuts. Calle brought over one of the baskets of turnip seeds. These would go in the ash turned areas that were cooling to late for peas.
In reflection Calle felt better with using the heathland for the fields. The trees made natural pockets that could be better guarded with traps. It isn’t a matte of animals never getting at the crops. This style is based on catching more food value in the animal’s meat than what they made off with. One deer or elk could devastate a field over weeks yet once trapped could feed you for months.
As for fishing by leaving the net Calle was flustered. It had been out for over a week while he worked the fields. There wasn’t even a dead carcass in it!
Calle’s next task was to portage the punt back to the north rivers. From there to make for the hill with the wild turnips to harvest them.
<Calle 050 First Linenfell fields>
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That turnip hill at “Burbot rapid” did start giving up a harvest. The turnip harvest was much smaller than Calle had hoped. However turnips are used by some as pit trap bait to lure in elk. Certainly worth trying! Interestingly this hill has different berry bushes, herbs and nettles. The nettles would need a week or more to ripen. Those fibers take a lot to process to make yarn, strings and clothing like the cloak he traded for. A nearby hill also grew flax and sorrel spice herbs. Calle took what was ripe now planing to return later. He even found several grouse nets yielding over a half dozen fresh eggs.
Returning to Linenfell Calle delivered the turnips. A check of the field traps looked like a bird or two had been caught then eaten by the lynx. Heading north Calle dreamed to find such a useful hill. The hills he did find were part of a range running to the north west. He spent half a day going out checking them only occasionally finding plants more useful than berries though few were ready to harvest. An interesting sight did come into view of a detached small lakes and a larger lake. Calle decided to make a shelter there for winter hunting and as an emergency shelter. Using a naturally fallen tree Calle split up firewood for such an emergency. Perhaps someone Calle never mets would find it and survive because of it.
A sniffle had gotten into Calle. Continuing his hill climbing farther and farther north now a was wheezing started. He decided to turn back to Linenfell. There he settled in at the shelter enclosure. With his cask full of good water he poured some into the metal pot. He added in a small amount of nettle leaves wishing he had more. Boiled it should ease the flu growing. Calle ate from the better foods as even the cellar the roasted bear meat had soured. Ignoring the spoiled bear meat he had a few weeks of meat alone enough things to make bread from to extend that to at least a month.
Calle rested wiping his runny nose with leaves. He should be fine if he took care of himself. This wasn’t a time for wide traveling adventures. He just wished he could recall where he saw wild growing nettle. Nettle teas would really help right now.
<CALLE 051 sniffling>
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Pacing himself for a day Calle gathered two more logs toward the cabin wall though held off trying to setup the wall. Roaming the area on a forage was easier on his lungs. He gathered ripening herbs for exterior wounds and many more cloud berries. By the evening Calle was breathing smoothly again. Between the nettle tea and lighter duties his health was back.
The next day Calle grinded hemp seeds for flour. He still had a large surplus of those from trading. It was good to taste the bread again. Safe times like these flow smoothly. Working away Calle set another pocket of ash turned field planted with fast growing turnips. The defenses for that was the start of trap fence with pit traps. The bear cuts ran out with Calle grinning when he took out remaining dried reindeer. By the end of the week after the summer solstice Calle had gotten the useable space in the cabin to include a fireplace, sleeping bunk, wood pile area and a cooking area.
<CALLE 052 fireplace>
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Since the solstice had passed now was a good time for planning. While more spots could be ash turned it wouldn’t be productive to plant in them. Having chosen a cabin site to homestead Calle started quarter logs to dry to be late fall or winter trade for longbows. A healthy array of boards were already upright under spruce drying since work had begun here. Food needed to be considered. For a wilds homestead late summer was a good time for foraging.
A project also to plan on is making a smokehouse. Another large animal like a bear would yield more meat then an earth chilled cellar could safeguard.
Making for a foraging Calle went to the nearest mountain. Once again he met the elk! His arrow sang out. It passed high and left of the elk. Pursuit was ineffective.
By land to the hills and by paddling along the lake shores Calle continued gathering. He retrieved shore plants of use, many good sized stones and various natural fall trees to tow back. Repeatedly he saw the lynx or the carcasses of birds and a hare. Its the two predator problem. Though not wanting to fight each other they certainly were competing for the same resources. One night the Lynx was prowling very close to the unfinished cabin. Calle set out even larger traps as the ones so far the were only gathering food for the cat.
After hauling the found trees up the hill Calle decided to set about making a sledwagon. In the winter it runs on skis and in the summer, like now, on wheels. Lashing a trunks to it would be so much more efficient than what he just did! To make it would take a lot of ropes or rope-strong material. A harness should have multiple passes on the person to avoid strain. Then the ropes to secure it. Calle made ropes of leather for the harnessing and of birch bark for the tie downs. Boards, skis and wheels of wood were simple enough.
Occasionally a bird was caught in the cellar guard traps. When preparing the meat Calle used a settlers trick he had heard of. In the summer time rather than use the fireplace he cooked outside. Then when the cooking was done he turned the soil over as an ash turned planting area for next year. These little plots would be good for spices or medicines like nettle.
When the sled wagon was finished Calle’s heart was filled with the jot about winter sledding down the slopes! Well so long as he didn’t go into icy water!
<CALLE 053 Sledwagon>
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Day 6 of the 12th week before winter, Late Hay month
Long term homesteading planning needs to account for the seasons. Its not quite yet harvest month. There can be time to do other tasks. Calle takes the time to consider the possible projects.
An odd thing has come up at the main cabin. Using the elevated ground to gain height has also meant that its hard to see out the shutter (in game mechanics). The cabin has enough going with a central fireplace and roofing to sleep into early winters very well. With a sled wagon moving logs will be much easier too.
Carpentry crafts has a small stock of drying quarter logs for longbows, dried boards for furniture and a collection of quality boards. The best ones boards by Konsta and Sampsa. If he had large food stocks they could be hired again. Making trade goods could get food.
Agriculture could benefit by turning more ash soil for next year. This didn’t seem like an immediate task.
Large game hunting was proving a difficult spot in Calle’s life. His broad bulky frame could haul nearly 300 pounds of equipment. What it couldn’t do is move fast making persistence hunting prone to failure.
Trapping was working on the doubling up principle. The guard traps at the cabin and the growing network at the fields. It was a matter of time though.
Fishing by net was possible. Calle’s general failure with net fishing was trying him. It would be a problem that this cabin wasn’t at rapids. When North Wind to Axe Rapids a bit more food was always possible by fishing the rapids by net or line. In theory he could break the ice here. It likely would be risky and less productive.
Calle also wanted a second or third punt to leave one at the river networks flowing to the villages. He could portage his own of course. Linenfell’s lake was isolated, there are the north rivers and the south rivers making three locations for a watercraft. Extra punts could be traded or on those shores as a luxury thing. That’s not a priority.
Food was slimming. He did have a month of mixed meats and baking easily. This isn’t critical though it is an issue. Foraging might be beneficial though more so in a few weeks in Harvest month.
He had an extra beaver pelt from trading.
Pondering his options. Calle decided to do things. First was a general reset and clean up of the traps at the field. Then a few days carpentry before visiting the villages a bit farther south. Trading like this would also mean a visit to socialize, share stories and know each other a bit more in case of troubles ahead.
<CALLE 054 Late Hay month planning>
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Carpentry was something Calle missed. Honestly missed. He decided first to assemble another wooden shield. It would be a good spare if the current one was damaged and a trade good if needed. He leaned it up inside the cabin space.
Strolling from the cabin he took a different path. Today he would walk due west from the courtyard to the pennisula’s bank. Then follow the bank it. This was a scenic stroll. A few birch-bark trees reminded Calle to harvest one or two for stocks of bark for cordage. That would be a “soon” task.
Arriving at field Calle was happy to have several captures. Three birds and two hares! He had found fox bones which likely was the arctic fox being eating by the lynx. The lynx was potentially still a problem. This time the lynx hadn’t stolen away these captures. Coincidental hunting has yielded a week of meat.
It would take time to process all those hides here on top of resetting the traps. Calle would live at the fields overnight. Small cooking fires were made in new spots to turn the ash over for future planting next spring. Sure enough as the smell of roasting bird was in the air the Lynx came to see. It had learned to work the trap line too!
A bit bothered Calle turned over the ash of the recent fire. Perhaps he could put out the loop snares he carried. The cat might not expect those.
Success!
Over there!
The lynx is in one of the predator traps!
Built with cord holding a wider set of trunks and weighed heavier this sort of trap could pin things bigger than birds. There trying to dig out is the Lynx.
<CALLE 055 Caught the lynx>
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Bashes with woodsman axe were met with fanged growls. Up close it was a big cat. A really big cat! It was trapped good though. Once it was slain, skinned and butchered Calle figured on nearly twenty pounds of meat. Combined with the bird and are meats this was pushing weeks of food. Plenty to see to other tasks!
That lynx weight though made Calle stop to think. On top of useful meat there was three pounds of bone, a pound of useful bones, unused digestive track and the wastage like paws. That cat was at thirty pounds? Thirty pounds! Calle recalls the night the spirits woke him to the lynx prowling outside. A thirty pound fanged cat leaping on your sleeping face.
Calle shuddered.
He gave the first cut of meat to the spirits giving the chant of thanks.
Happily working away Calle had solved the two predator problem. By eliminating the other this had made a hole in the forest’s balance. A hole were Calle could live. In time more animals would breed to challenge. For now his need for food was balanced by one less meat eating animal.
Reseting the traps took a day then another to expand the trap fence. It was being set so that if Calle rushed form the cabin it could push an animal between the coast and fence. There the pit traps could claim it. Animals wandering to explore from mainland to the peninsula might step in the pits as well.
His hungry had been satiated on the birds, hare and lynx. Without realizing it Calle had been eating up just the meat. His strength was flowing good. It really would do good to mix in plants or baking to spread this out.
Having put out berries for bait Calle went to the east mires for more. Only the crowberries had ripened. These he found on the pine mire collecting over fifteen pounds in the one day. Two attempts at fowling caught him a grouse as well.
After resting in the cabin Calle went to process the fresh grouse. Sadly he had forgotten two bird skins tanning at the lake edge. He let those sink into the waters asking the spirits to forgive his wastage.
Now he planned to use the sledge to bring in birch, for their bark and material for carving. There was also the new pits that didn’t have turnip bait yet. Calle picked a few out of the cellar and made his way to the field.
A reindeer is frothing about in one of the new pits! His crescent hook shaped fence and pits had worked! Another hare as well! After dispatching them both Calle reset those traps and put out the turnip bait. The reindeer had been bashed with the back of a big axe until numb. Then Calle’s hunting knife tip had slid into the neck to bleed it out with minimal hide damage.
It was a small doe reindeer just over 200 pounds. Calle guessed her to be four years old. Calle hoisted it over his shoulders to process back by the cabin. This would mean enough meat to hire workers. Either to work up the cabin or a separate smoke house? Calle had to think about that.
<CALLE 055 Caught doe>
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Processing the deer Calle figured on 95 pounds of meat. Yields of one half meant that the lynx would have closer to forty pounds. Calle shuddered. Calle roasted a third of it along with the hare meat. Chilling in the cellar would give time to the rest. He could perhaps trade the rest for workers and already preserved foods.
Working the hides was next which would take a few days given the size of the reindeer skin. Calle brought in his first sledge pull of a birch he took the entire trunk of bark off.
It was a few days later Calle carved a lynx figurine. It would join the household carvings of the elk and bear. The fox figure was on guard inside the cellar. Calle planned to make a few more later. The reindeer hide was done and a second birch tree brought in and wholly debarked. In the morning he would take extra reindeer meat and the beaver pelt to the villages for trade and hiring.
<CALLE 056 Carved lynx>
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Of to Maiden’s Stream he went. There Sampsa and Konsta greeted him openly amid their work. It was a little disappointing that the settlement still needed them. Their own harvest was coming up and they couldn’t be spare. Not for this small community. It was still possible to trade a good portion of the reindeer meat for persisting goods like furs.
Late afternoon brought Calle’s arrival to the larger “Button Stream” settlement to the south. First to greet him is old Kuopia. He needs Calle to collect a stock of 40 pinches of heather flowers. A barter is also struck for the rest of the uncooked reindeer for a half filled bag of broad beans. Holding the bag Calle really hopes to make it last to the next planting season.
While searching Calle checks their pasture. Yarrow, sorrel, goldenrod and milkweed are up. A small supply is harvested and picked for his own medicines and next year’s plantings. Paddling across the rivers to mires Calle does find flowering heather farther north. Certainly farther out than old Kuopia would roam. There was luck in the strangness of finding nettle growing amid the rises of a rapid. Calle collected a healthy portion for medicine and seeding. As he had been taught he always left a little of the wild find to grow more, feed the animals and show respect to the spirit world.
With the herbs collected Calle paddled back. Kuopia was happy to get the supply.
“Well done youngster,” Kuopia said, “It takes different herbs to make a truly powerful blend. Here, this dose is yours. Use it if you ever really bad off. Save it until then.”
Calle nodded, “Thank you. It is a great thing and will be treated with respect. Used when the need is great.”
Calle asks Kuiopa about the plants and their seasons. On hearing the answers Calle thinks now is a good time to harvest from the wilds. Though Calle failed to get workers the collection of herbs and the medicine dose
Traveling north Calle pulled off to the shore several times. These searches turned up more useful plants well away from the settlements. Remembering the hill at Burbot Rapid he found it growing well with many things to harvest now. Squishing red juice slid between Calle’s teeth as he enjoyed his favorite raspberries fresh off the vine!
It was a double portage to bring it all in. When unpacking Calle found the carved lynx still in his pocket. This he placed at the fields shelter to bring peace to the lynx spirit and hopeful encourage other lynx’s to stay away, like with the fox figure inside the cellar. One exposed set of peas was found raided with the culprit now trapped. A hare was waiting as fresh food after the long trip!
Humans moved in the distance too. Calle recognized at least their style of dress. Gathering up the better furs he went to meet them. This group had met Calle months before. This time he had furs worthy of their interest. It was going to be costly though. Amid the items of interest Bevisbert offers a broadsword whose fine blade ripples like a river. Other traders have broadhead arrows, a simpler broadsword, a long mail cowl for the head, a fine battleaxe, hefty battlesword and even mail leggings.
Having had lessons in the sword Calle does fancy that elegant river sword. The barter goes on at length over the different furs. It will certainly take the bear fur. Along with it goes that fine lynx fur, reindeer fur and the trade beaver fur. For what comes to seven broad head arrows is given a badger fur and a fox fur. All memories Calle had. These though have a purpose in trade.
“Lets share a meal,” Bevisbert said, “You can tell us how you got these.”
Sitting amid the forest Calle began his tales. A few traders had little of Calle’s language. Others explained to the partners. Calle asked about certain words too. Each side gaining a bit of the other’s language.
<CALLE 057 River sword>
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Calle tacked the flat of the river sword on his all wood shield as he walked up the bear. The bear scrambled to the other side of the bit. Its left hind leg flailed with a floppy knee. It couldn’t stand to pull itself out. Wanting to keep the pelt in good shape Calle whapped the side of the river sword onto the bear. A solid bruising hit squishing on the fur, fat and meat without the crunch of bone damage.
Calle’s eyes popped wide as the bear spinning bear jaw first slammed at Calle. The wood was whacked hard saving his legs. A fear of being pulled into the pit with the bear flooded like a howling wind through Calle’s soul. Mastering his fear Calle gave blows to the bear. The shield twisted his arm stopping mighty blows. A recovery was slow with the bear sliding the scrapes of a bite across his clothes. Upper most the leather belt twisted in the jaw with a slight seep of blood showing where a fang had scratched through.
Calle took a step back, “You are mighty bear. That is a respect you deserve. I am Calle of the Reemi. I have come after passing the First Winter quest. Your strength is greater than mine. The ways of the ancestors were followed. That is the advantage Calle has to face your strength. You will be honored. I promise to place your skull high on a lonely pine.”
From the safe distance Calle calmed his breathing. Stepping forward with the shield low Calle had to cross the swing range of the paws. Whacked wood held the shield together. Flat blows were landed then Calle stepped back. Furiously frantically the bear tried to get to Calle and out of the pit. The stones below wobbled making the ruined leg slip.
Calculating the risks Calle stepped forward, blocked, landed blows then withdrew in cycles of rest.
Amid the blows river sword sung as it cracked a rib on its prey.
On the next closing to range the bear’s fatigue and wounds were telling. It slipped again.
Hyvaneuvo the adventurer flashed to Calle’s mind. The lessons included timing a thrust to an oncoming attack. It made the effective motion twice as fast and twice the impact.
Calle crouched as the bear came up. Knee dropping on his sword side, hip twisting with arm guiding.
A glint of sunlight from River Sword was the last that bear eye would see as it split like a grape to the thrust.
Silent gaping jaws flop over as the bear passes out from pain.
Calle repeats his thrusts to the bear’s neck. Striking hits slide along the floppy bear skin like chainmail dragging a saber. No responses from the bear. Thinking to save the pelt Calle switches to his hunting knife. Caution might be said but would it really be correct? Calle slid into the pit with the bear. Shield readied the knife is precision pushed in through the layers. Blood spurts out and again as an artery lets out.
Calle watches. His senses sing with adrenaline. If the bear rose he could die. Burbling blood slows to a seep as clots form on fat and fur. Calle sends in his knife again this time deep. Bone pushes the blade for a moment then gives way. Breathing stops. The bear has ceased.
<CALLE 059 River sword pokes out an eye>
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“First give thanks,” grandfather said, “then care for yourself.”
Calle set out a gift for the forest spirits, “Thank your for meat, skill and protection.”
Next he swung out his water skin. It was a handy trade from long ago. Looking through his carried herbs he crushed heather leaves. Water poured on the palm with the leaves scrubbed the scratch. When bandaging strands of nettle leaves are added. Its known for giving both a barrier by structure and its own inner goo fighting infections.
Nearly 300 pounds of bear took a great struggle and levering with trunks to get out of the pit. On the surface Calle set about skinning and butchering. There was a great stock of meat once again. Meat that would be very hard to find a place to trade. Putting it in the cellar would be first.
Turning to take the first portions back Calle notices motion on the lake. The swan. Softly paddling about as a spirit showing its agreement with Calle. It was the swan that had told him he had gone far enough north to camp. It was the swan that accepted either river network was fine. Here the swan was approving of Calle, the bear fight, the cabin and all the work so far. Being in harmony with the spirits left Calle speechless. His breath choked and eyes watered. A moment was needed to start walking in a song of praise to the spirit friends.
At the cabin’s east lake shore Calle toiled to clean the bear skin properly. A mallard began singing a pleasant call. Then another stronger sound. It was the swan singing to Calle. A deep proud breath filled his lungs.
True to his promise Calle set the bear skull up in a pine tree. It wasn’t quite so lonely as it was in sight of the other. Calle hoped the bear spirits would agree with each other. This he wasn’t sure about. It was a hope though. It was that or set it up far away. This seemed better for the bear.
Across the lake to the north east wolf shapes loped over a rise. A pack of wolves close to here. Calle had to hope the pennisula would confuse them. His cabin defense was far from complete. There is though a small island on the lake. Perhaps sheltering over night there would be best.
Working the bear’s fat and brains with water made a soupy mix. As Calle worked this onto the cleaned hide the swan came close to the shore. A wide smile came to him. He still thought about whether the swan spirit could protect him at the cabin or was it warning him of the wolves?
If the swan and he were in harmony then wouldn’t his thoughts on the island be the swan’s as well?
Calle paddled over to the small island in the lake. It would be bizarre for such a long swim by the wolves. There a cappercille was walking around. Walking not flying meant it felt safe. It was easy to find a pocket of trees on the north side. A trio of guard traps for noisemakers were set. Calle slept happily on the island.
In the morning he disarmed the traps to avoid unnecessary harm to the forest. A lean to was put together in the pocket. If he ever needed to come in the winter it wold be here. Rocks and a pull stone were set up for a fire ring. Already fallen branches including a big one were gathered as ready firewood.
Returning to the cabin shore Calle looked to the east. Movement had changed to the foreign traders.
Calle laughs.
Were those traders werewolves?
Calle laughed again.
Well if they were then they had already done a trade with him. That should mean they were at peace. They would want Calle to get them more furs.
Did they wear the furs to turn into animals?
Calle’s laughed echoed over the lake.
Setting to work again Calle attempts to make smoke in his half walled cabin. Without the proper ceiling and walls the smoke just won’t collect. Its a huge work to make an independent smoke house.
He could try sailing north in hopes of meeting Owl tribes folk. Its no guarantee but maybe they have someone willing to come work.
<CALLE 060 Too much meat>
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Exploring by paddling is troublesome. The lakes are separated with no navigable ways between them. Leaving the punt on a shore Calle climbed up a hill. Though seeing far he couldn’t see a settlement. Owl tribe is one that herds reindeer thus always moving to graze them in new places.
Walking back down on a different path he saw smoke rise far across a lake. There was a tribe over there! Crossing the lake Calle tried two landings before finding them. They were settled at Hanging Wide.
Trading gets arrows. Calle has quite a few arrows already. They are a trade good now. Something that doesn’t spoil. The only possible helper is too busy. There is talk of Nerjpez setting outposts northward. Ahkejuoska is acting as a scout to make sure new places are safe for moving the herds and family.
Calle becomes troubled that the location given is near the harvest hill he used. That is getting quite close to him! Its also north of several of the Kaumo settlements.
With talk of another herd village to the north east Calle pushes on exploring. Exactly where no one knows after all they move as a herd. A traveling shelter is raised at a pond. Next morning he goes a little farther north east then does a T search. That is where go wide of the expected direction then turn as if making a T. Its a technique good at finding lost tracks. Calle was about to end the T to turn back when over a mire he spotted the tents of the Hair Wild village.
Thankfully they have dried meats. Its a 3 for 2 of roasted bear for what is… dried squirrel. Squirrel? Over two dozen squirrels. Had their children been sent out to devastate a wood? Calle laughed at the image of a swarm or rock throwing children pinging squirrel after squirrel out of trees.
Fortunately they also have smoked meats traded for a few arrows. Hair Wild is certainly larger with Calle guesses three times the population of Hanging Wide. Talk speaks of a cave southward called Pine Mountain. For now Calle just notes that as he needs to finish his winter cabin. There is another village just a few miles to the south east. That Calle can try to find.
Draught Mire is the third village’s location. Legends of the dried reindeer meat are found tree. For a partial quiver of arrows Calle will be coming back with 40 dried reindeer cuts along with the squirrel and smoked meats. Over 80 servings of preserved meats can be stretched over two months with wild greens Calle collected. Now that’s something he can build a cabin on even without hired hands.
Calle overnighted with tribe of Draught Mire. Now he had to go find his punt and get back to the cabin.
<CALLE 061 Owl meats>
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On the way back Calle found another Owl herding tribe at Bad Mire. They say it smells bad but the grazing is great! A trade of eight bone tipped arrows gained nearly 30 more dried reindeer cuts. This trip worked out well!
Still in morning Calle found his punt. He had put it on a projection of a lake so once finding that lake it went quickly. Roasted bear tasted great. A few portions were held back as fresh food for the trip back.
On the large island made by the northern river system Calle saw a figure moving. Seemed they were dressed in local clothing. Calle paddled around to try to meet them. With the person not found Calle figured they went into hiding. No need to frighten them. Calle moved on.
At home the field guard traps provided two birds fresh enough to process. Blueberries at the cabin had come into season too. Being latter Harvest month there is the challenge of do you build or do you harvest. Building tires you out with wild harvesting, foraging, a way to relax.
While building a southern section the swan flies between the walls and the spruce. A blessing to the cabin!
On a round of gathering Calle sweeps to the northwest. On the hills are a few more herbs and blueberries. Checking mires finds the crowberries still in season. Experimental herbology though has brought on a fever. One of the plants, a lovely looking one, has brought on a fever. Eating spoiled meat has made him vomit a lot. In this case he may have saved himself by ejecting the toxic plant before it was too bad. The danger could certainly grow.
Quickly back to the cabin site Calle sifts through his herb collection choosing to take heather. A pot of boiled heather soothes his belly as he falls asleep. Come morning he has lived. Still a bit off another tea is made.
It was a struggle now. Teas were helping and not helping. It seemed to ease then get worse. Calle was getting worried. He had the special mixture. Part of him wanted to get through this without using it. After a few days on heather tea he used what yarrow leaves he had.
To call for help Calle whittled a swan figurine. An invitation for the swan spirit to visit, be welcome and come in the time of need. Once it was done he hung it by a yarn to sway high over the bunk.
In the morning Calle’s aches were softer. The poison was still at work. Its power was weaker. Had Swan come as he prayed?
Staying at the cabin expanding the floored and roof parts kept him busy. The teas and swan presence were holding off the worst of the poison. Searchers for more heather or yarrow were going to be needed before those plants withered.
<CALLE 062 Bog poisoned>
-
Day 2 of the 8th week before midwinter
Concerns for his health Calle sets off on a forage. The goal is heather to keep making medicinal tea. On the way out he checks the fields. Crops are growing up.
Turning a pea pod back and forth he says, “Two weeks.”
Crouching at the turnips he pushes a little dirt aside to look at the base, “Four weeks.”
Looking up to the sky Calle adds, “There’s time.”
The harvest should come in before the frosts come. Peas and turnips. Peas are a pretty low yield. What he expects is to perhaps double what he planted. All that to be saved for planting next year. Turnips are pretty durable making them great to extend winter stores.
Considering where to get heather he strolled to the eastern pine mires. Around were he fought a bear on arriving to the area. Crow-berries are showing signs their abundance will pass. With berries its a rotation from one to another until even in the snows lingonberries can be gained. Wiping his face Calle realizes his fever has gone down. The heather tea, yarrow tea and swan blessing have brought him safely across the folly of experimental herbology.
Crow-berries, crow-berries and more crow-berries. A few pounds could be many pounds if he wanted. Heather though is still eluding Calle. Bog bean flowers are handy, which itself a useful as a spice or wound treatment.
Feather sticking up right on a stick.
An arrow!
Calle laughed. He found one of his raven arrows from fighting the bear. Nearby was the landing shelter. Calle over nighted there.
Exploring north west is a nice hike. Pleasant time in the woods are good memories. Still no heather. Its likely they have withered away in this area. They were so common before! Calle wished he collected more then checked himself. He had collected many things. The heather had been enough for that illness.
At a lake in the north west, they would tell him it was Kolu’s Mound, Calle setup a travel shelter. Having such setup around the main location was a preparation strategy. In later time if injured or cold there would already be placed to seek refuge. Another safety shelter went up where Calle figured he was close to due west of the Linenfell cabin.
Scouting along a large ermine was nibbling on berries. Crouching to move quiet he moved away then resumed eating. With careful placing each foot Calle crept closer and closer. With the bog arrow notched he let it fly, straight through the ermine. Its fine pelt was soon on his belt. Foreign traders wanted these sorts of ermine pelts. To make sure to prepare it properly Calle headed back to the cabin.
At the fields its time to do trap maintaining. One has a grouse and another a luikka (loon). Calle recalls hearing the luikka and swan singing together. He chooses to release the luikka.
Calle lifted the weight off, “Swan is my guiding spirit. I hope you will keep singing with the swan. Sorry you got hurt. Thank you for singing.”
Luikka was flicking its head to Calle and to the sky. It wobbled a step before wings beat it into the skies. Calle smiled wiping a tear from his cheek.
<CALLE 063 released luikka>
-
Day of the 8th week before midwinter
Once again Calle thinks of the tasks ahead. It is late Harvest season. A dream of gathering heather had come. Old Kuopia of Button Stream was there gesturing across the rivers. Yes, there had been heather to the south. Calle may be north of where it grows. There had been hemp growing along a river bank too. There was a lot of cabin work to do. In harvest season you had to harvest or you wouldn’t have anything later.
Rubbing his chin Calle looked to the swan figure swaying from the ceiling.
“Keep this home safe for all of us,” Calle said, “Elk that became a bear is here too. The fox in the cellar and the lynx at the field. I’m going to take another trip to get things we don’t have here. Things like the medicine that kept me safe. I will be back soon.”
Calle delayed a day to make a wooden tub for trade. Enough boards to make another if wanted would come too. It felt awkward going there without something for the village. Sleeping early let him rise in the small hours. Plenty of time to travel. He put out the elk and bear figurine on top of his furs to guard them. He gave the hanging swan a pat to make it sway like it was flying. Down to the northern river system he went.
Along the way he stopped at “Turnip hill” of Burbot Rapids. More raspberries were ready as was unneeded blueberries. Every where around here was blue berries. It did give him the mind to check shores here and there. Happily at an island of “Holler Raipids” Calle found flowering heather. His searches earlier were just too far north. Holler Rapids also yielded golden rod, spirit mushrooms, nilberries and more nettles. Other river banks held more and more nettles.
At Button Stream they have set aside flax seeds. This oddly insterests Calle as a new crop for next year.
Villager Apro came up, “Calle. You are of the Reemi. I have a journey to make to them. Would you guide me that way?”
Calle shook his head.
“I am a Reemi is true. My journey of life began there. Up the river with a paddle came Calle. Its not a journey I will be taking this season. Homesteading take a lot of work. Your village can spare you but Swan Cabin can’t spare me for long, not yet anyway.”
“Swan Cabin?” asked Apro.
“Suppose that is the name,” Calle said, “A swan spirit is guiding me there. It welcomed me there and guards the cabin during this voyage.”
Apro’s eyes furled, “A swan maiden? Be careful if it is.”
Calle’s lips pushed together. He hadn’t thought of whether the swan could take maiden form. Would that be a good thing, a bad thing or just a thing?
At night the elder Kuopia told a story of a swan maidens. In this version a hunter with a decorated cloak saw a swan took off her feathers. She became human next to a cloak of feathers. By trading cloaks the hunter bonded her to him. Though she was faithful her full happiness escaped him. She was exceptionally sad when their child found the feather cloak and asked her what it was. Her hands stayed at her side for she had offered it freely and only freely could it truly come back to her. At the next birthday the hunter turned father asked that if there was anything honorable he could do or give he would. The child asked for the feather cloak. So it passed from father to child who then gave it freely back to the mother. With her cloak she turned back to a swan and left their home. The hunter would wander the lands often seen following a swan who would linger to look at him and the child at his side.
Calle thought of his own swan, “She was always meant to be free.”
Apro warned, “One time you disappear maybe you be trapped in her home.”
Calle scoffed, “As if that would be a bad thing.”
The villagers laughed.
On the morning the voyage home involved a few more landings to gather. It was a full load of herbs and plants gathered. Calle was especially proud to have learned to find heather to the south. Even Turnip Hill had some near, not on the hill but in the pine mire around it. The wild hemp had been a small yield. Only a little trouble as he had stocks of hemp seeds meant for bread that cold be saved for planting. Nettles were very frequent. A decent green for eating and fiber for clothing.
When finally home Calle stored the stocks in mounds in the cellar. The fox figure guardian had to be moved to sit on top of the new stacks. Calle took to eating one of the spirit mushrooms. Then he lay down under the swaying swan figure dreaming of how he would act if the swan came as a maiden to him. Already she had flown right by the cabin and sung to each other many times.
Waking the colors of the dawn swirled all around. Calle felt like he was still floating or was it flying? Flying back from flying beside his beautiful swan maiden. One free that the spirit mushroom had let Calle cross to her world a time. His senses swirled sill flying around the forest. Back and forth the swan figure arced with her sky borne grace.
<CALLE 064 flying with the swan>
-
All the colors of the world dancing with the wind.
Swaying with the colors Calle went by the edge of the lake where Miss Swan was most often see. There he sets out her portion of spirit mushroom. She is sure to like it!
With things in good order for food and medicines Calle made a hard blitz on logging for the cabin. It was a week at least of work. Sadly Calle learned that at some point an elk had been trapped at the fields. The body in the pit was already decaying past use. An elk would have been a huge yield. Calle set the corpse on a pyre to burn.
Day 6 of the 6th week before midwinter, Early Fall Month
First of Calle’s own turnips have been harvested. Agriculture achieved!
<CALLE 065 Agriculture achieved>
Day 7 of the 6th week before midwinter, Early Fall Month
There is another harvest to be done before the icy days: iron ores. With iron bearing hills to the north west they drain toward the west side of peninsula. Paddling to that part of the bay a long pole is poked around. Somehow the spirits bind up the tiny drops of iron into balls of mixed iron, mud and other lake. Once likely objects are found the dipping net is used to fish it out. Its a long active process.
These will take a lot of work and the heat of charcoal. Gathering them from the lakes need to be done before the freeze. That’s now. Yields are small. Calle’s hopes is to have enough for a metal shovel for that makes the ash turning and bog hunting for iron more efficient. Then maybe a knife for carving, a second pot to keep teas in and so much more.
Forming the iron will take the heat of charcoal. Charcoal making is best done outside of winter as shifting winds can offset the delicate process. Near the cabin is a hollow of ground. That would give sheltering to the charcoal mounds. He could try there even after the snows.
A second day of scooping iron is started.
While on the lake a beautiful fluttering of thousands of tiny feathers sparkling from morning’s level rays. These flashing are the first snow fall! Enjoying the beauty on his tenth ore blob Calle goes to check on harvesting the fields. The frosts must be coming soon too! A few more turnips ready with growing concern if the peas would make it.
Another task before the ground ices is another trap fence on the east side of the pennisula. That is the pits need to be dug before the ground is hard. The covers and fencing can go up later. Calle studies the land trying to thing how an animal would move. Choosing a spot he begins stabbing with the wood shovel into the earth. The dream of an iron headed shovel comes to him again.
Day 2 of the 4 th week before midwinter
Brushing spruce over the lattice of branches on slender poles hangs the covering sheet over the a pit trap on the eastern J fence. Its been hard work to dig the five pits and link them with fencing. Calle approached the fence from both sides imagining himself an animal. Several fences were moved to better guide toward the pits. Four more needed to be covered. This one needed bait. A turnip from the fields would do great.
Strolling to the fields a bawl is herd as an elk thrashes about in a trap! This time Calle is on time. It seems that even small fields with pit fences bring in far more food than the toiling the soil.
<CALLE 066 Caught elk>
-
Calle had confusion fill him now. Over two hundred and fifty pounds of elk meat was in the cellar. He can make use of as is forty to sixty pounds. He looks at the huge 200 pounds that would spoil.
Should he attempt another trade run? Would the villages even still want more food?
To make a smokehouse he needs to enclose the space. He has enough gathered trunks for a small smoke house or to enclose a more modest donut cabin, like the size he had at Axe Rapids. There is a lot of work to do for that. Would the meat stay okay in the cellar long enough? Two to three days to split thirty trunks to logs. 5 to 8 days to mount them. 2 days for boarding the gaps. Ten days or more.
That’s just too long.
Its a river dash then.
Calle lightens his load even leaving his two big axes behind. Clothing is likewise trimmed. Over two hundred pounds of meat and his punt are portage to the northern rivers. Going south, sleeping briefly then continuing on the punt is beached. Calle carries the meats in to the Kuamo village of Maiden’s stream.
Trading away meat for preserved foods and good for trade. Goods include a short bow, 2 baskets of hemp seed, two bags of rye grains. Calle also did chores toward getting an arctic fox fur that would be good with the foreign traders.
Village woman Marja stores away the bulk of the elk meat.
“That’s all we need Calle,” Marja said, “That will feed us long through the winter. Remember North Wind comes soon.”
“Yes he does,” said Calle, “I left more elk meat at Swan Cabin. Well stocked with roasted elk alongside rows of Owl perserved meats and stacks of wild harvest. Food won’t be a problem this winter.”
“Don’t let it spoil or be raided,” warned Marja, “Nor over hunt the game. You have things to do other than get too much food?”
“Carpentry is my families trade,” Calle said, “Though I’ve helped at other trades as we all ought.”
After a rest Calle made it farther south to Button Stream. The last bits of elk meat were welcome enough there traded for smoked meats.
The round trip was less than two days. With still a bit of warm weather Calle was pondering Marja’s words. He realized there was another trade that needed to at least start before the snow: clay work. He could for instance make a kettle for healing drinks keeping the main iron pot free. Walking his peninsula shore he picked a likely spot and started digging. His first pit was a miss on good clay. A second pit was dug.
Squishing the mud in his hands he felt it was close enough to what he remembered his mother and grandmother using. It was dirty work and Calle didn’t want to filth the cabin. He waded in the cold shore waters to clean up. A small fire in Swan Cabin dried him as he fell asleep amid the mix of the bear, elk and other furs.
In the morning Calle made a decision to keep peace with the forest. He was overstocked with foods. It wouldn’t do to trap more game. If the only set traps were guard traps at the cabin he could focus on work here, like building up the cabin. Respecting the animals also meant treating their hides. That to distracted form the core work needed.
Going to the fields he disarmed the traps, including the pit traps. He mourned the failed pea crop. There are those who warn its not hard crop to grow. His northern location didn’t help nor his mid season planting.
Today’s weather was pleasantly warm. Calle used this as chance to really pull up clay. Then another cleaning wading.
<CALLE 067 disarmed traps and clay>
-
Able to focus on the cabin a heavy work cycle began.
Day 5 of the 2nd week before winter season, Early Dirt Month
The ground is now cold enough that the snow is staying on the ground.
Calle has already hoisted up Swan Cabin’s eastern mixed wall. It will be improved later. What it does do is provide at least some wind protection. The dominate winds are south west making it perhaps not the best choice in that regard. It is the east that follows the natural ridge Calle is building with. He wanted the ground workable and not icy while heaving the structure up higher. That is the lake side with lake affect winds coming from that side.
Shortest is the north wall which is what he is working on now. Its on this side that will become the main entrance and first courtyard. Material outdoor storage is southeast with a south door shielded by spruce trees already in place. His plan is that the west side will eventually have a set of small rooms. One room for water casks and another for a closely defended cellar. In the corner will go the secondary chimney for a smoking as a room that can be closed off on its own. Those will also make an inner wall. For the first winter Calle can use the inner wall to limit how much cabin to build before the snows come.
Those foreign traders seem to have camped out to the north east. For weeks they are still visible. Are the expecting Calle to bring more furs? Swan Cabin is near the boundaries of both Owl and Kauma lands. For someone wanting furs that is a good place. It hadn’t been part of Calle’s plan but a little break from the walls would be refreshing. Among the furs is the fine elk fur and trade furs like an arctic fox and beaver. That still leaves two bear furs for Calle to sleep with.
Going out to meet them Calle had to track them a bit. They were foraging around their camp. It turns out this is a different group of traders. Now that is interesting. That means now and then new traders with new goods will come right close to Swan Cabin.
Calle cut off a spruce branches making two piles.
Calle spurted with his limited words in their tongue, “Trade furs. Show things. Blanket trade.”
He put down his furs next to one spruce mat. The traders nodded approvingly. A blanket trade where each puts goods on a blanket, in this case spruce, to show the negotiation.
Calle passed on a battle axe.
Gerbrand held up a silver ring gleaming in the sunlight. Such a rare thing. Silver is used in rare rituals. It is expensive though. That also makes it an incredible trade good as so light to carry. Calle tilted left and right to show he was uncertain right now.
Next Gerbrand put onto the spruce a metal rimmed round shield. Calle studies it closely. It was made of a foreign wood. Harder than spruce or pine that he was using.
Gerbrand patted the wood, “Oak.”
Then Gerbrand turned it over patting the handle, “Leather and iron”.
Calle looked closer. Its handhold was indeed steel not wood. It was bound in good leather. There are a few metal braces on the inside of the shield boards too. This was a very good shield. Picking it up Calle moved it about. It flowed like rain over a leaf. A masterwork of wood and metal combined with strength and balance. This he wanted!
Calle put onto his own spruce mat different sets of furs. Finally settling on hares, a badger and a fox.
Gerwin was next offering a round shield though Calle waved that off. Gerwin yammered to Gerbrand and the two laughed.
Gerbrand replied, “Next time,” to Gerwin.
Gerwin had broad head arrows, axes and mail leggings. Broad heads were always good. Axes Calle had and he doubted being able to afford the fully metal legs. The shuffling of goods on the spruce blankets began. Finally from Calle a squirrel fur and that trade arctic fox for eight broad head arrows leaving one arrow out.
Trading with Halfrey was much faster. There was a fine spectacle helm, iron for the skull and across the face! Well made with superbly smoothed broad rivet heads. Halfrey was quick to point to Calle’s elk fur. Calle puts it out then adds the badger fur. Halfrey looks them over waving for more furs. Gerbrand and Gerwin speak to him. Halfrey picked up the helm, no trade.
High valuable goods like the ring meet the same fate as the fine spectacle helm, just not enough furs. The other goods Calle wasn’t eager for. Leather leggings with foreign patterns and good stitching were interesting. The spruce blanket trading fails though. They aren’t worth the fine elk fur and the badger isn’t worth as much as them.
After the time together they part happy. Each gained things they didn’t have at the start.
<CALLE 068 master shield>
-
The next day Calle was working while debating where to lay the west wall or to make the south west corner into a smoker now rather than later. Looking to his sleeping space he had the two bear furs, one mangled from fighting the other in good shape. He could try offering it for the helm with the fine elk but… would it be enough? Ah, and a fine ermine hair in the piles too! He’d forgotten about that.
It comes to nothing though as Calle can’t find them. Seems they had moved on after the trade. That makes sense. There would have been risk though as its good to have three furs, one below you sleeping, one above you sleeping and one to make clothing. Had he done that trade he’d be down to just one, the battle mangled bear fur that was used for the below sleeping.
Day 7 of the last week to winter season
This day of the fall equinox. As a special celebration he goes to over night where he first saw the Swan Spirit. Kirri’s rapid hasn’t been visited in months. The darkening nights make it hard to find. Arriving he spends time in prayer.
“Swan Spirit, Swan Spirit, Swan Spirit,” Calle called out, “I am Calle of the Reemi from the lands to the south where is the sea the rivers flow too. By here is where you first showed yourself. On the edge of this great home. Thank you for telling me it is here. There is a prosperity here that shall be respected.
Time and time again you smiled at me. When the wolves were on the east mire you warned me to sleep on the island. That kept me safe. You have led and allowed animals into the traps. They were a great bounty. It was a mistake at times to not make use of all of them. I did not know how great the bounty was. For now my traps sit idle for there is plenty. Thank you so much!
Here is a gift of a sign of blessing back to you, heather and my favorite berries… raspberries.”
He then began chanting until falling asleep.
Fluttering snow tapping onto ice greeted the opening of morning eyes. Yes there is ice. The edge of the lake is frosting up. That time has come. On the ice there was a pattern of broken ice. It looked a little like the curve of a swan’s neck. Its angle is close to how she could have looked to the shelter, Calle and the raspberries.
The east of Swan Cabin is almost fully enclosed. Two or three days more will see that done. From there it will be safe to make improvements and add the western rooms.
<Calle 069 Fall Equinox Swan Ice>
-
Returning to Swan Cabin first on Calle’s mind was to turn over the water stores. His first cask, wooden tub and traded leather skin were emptied. Taken to the shore the still thin ice was cracked. Fresh water for the season filled them up. When they ice thickened this would be harder. With an enclosed cabin with a fireplace the water would be accessible. With the cask he could cut down on how often he needed to break ice and even sit out the deepest cold indoors.
Day 2 of the 13th week before midwinter
Swan Cabin is now fully enclosed! The Lake Room, as Calle calls the eastern half to the non-existing west half, has almost twice the interior space of the Axe Rapids donut cabin. He will be able to sort goods, organize materials and life decently. The east wall needs improvement to switch out boards for thicker logs is true. The cellar still has a few weeks of dried meats let alone stocks of berries and herbs.
A bench and table for working inside. A
Wild splashes snap his attention. Hurrying to the shore the ice is splattered and pock marked. A pair of goldeneye birds have been … frolicking? They waddle on the ice and it breaks.
Head tilted Calle says, “All right Swan ice is dangerous. If it can’t hold birds it can’t hold me. I shall tell you the punt has been punt under spruce already. I won’t be going on the river when its dangerous. Letter I might ski but for now my tasks are on land. Thank you for sending the goldeneye to warn me. Their game has brought joy.”
Flapping a golden eye went through the ice and backup, with a fish in its mouth.
“Do the village folk in the south know how good it is to talk with the animals and spirits? Do they think that people are the only ones to have joy and sorrow?”
Accepting their gift Calle drink out of one of their splash holes.
With the safety of the enclosed cabin established now is a time to accept the splitting of tasks by again setting the pit fences to bring in game. On the east J the ground was still workable to add two more pits and guiding fences. Bait was set out on west and eat with a mix of turnips, berries and spoiled meats. Smelly stuff to lure them over. A mix to confuse the scents enough to mask his. As built the J were designed that when Calle came from the cabin if her startled an animal, even if he hadn’t see it, they would be stuck in the J unless they stepped into a pit.
Cold was setting in too. Having traded fur clothing earlier Calle needed to make new pieces. For now key items like badger mittens, hare fask mask to shield from North Wind’s claws and from scraps of an earlier bear wraps to go over the great shoe’s his mother gave him. Calle sat down at that.
Its been a year since he started the challenge that took him away from them. Would they be proud of him? Calle looked around the Swan Cabin he built in a remote place. The stocks of food the friends he made. The two angry bears defeated and robbers driven off. His spirit tie to the Swan glowed with the energy of his heart. Yes, they would be proud of him.
Day 5 of the 12th week before midwinter, Late Dirt Month
Calle stands in the main door of Swan Cabin. Finally the eastern wall has been restructured to all logs without needing the blank bracing. That had been a fast build expedient. Now the east wall supports the roof properly on that side, long before heavy snow loads. The ground outside has no snow with the odd spurts of warmth melting it.
Lake Room, the only room right now, is the main hall. On the north side is the table and bench for crafting. Storage is possible on the west and middle walls. The east passage carries on to the sleeping bunk. There is room later to expand the bunk when a family is started. Near the sleeping is the central fireplace making it great at warming the sleeping and easy to tend the fire when ill. Shutters let in light from the north and east wall for multi-direction lighting reducing shadows.
A notch in the south wall goes around an exterior spruce that felt lovely to lead in. While the north main door is fairly open the south door is hidden by spruce. It was always meant as a secondary door for supplies or in case of an out of control fire. On the west wall is three doors that will one day lead to the three west rooms. For now Calle will pile up spruce outside them as extra protection from the winds.
There is a good amount of space, light and heat to work here for days. Currently the cellar is outside, closest the south door but only a short walk. Calle’s cask and a tub sit near the fireplace so its warmth works to keep them from freezing. Its a good cabin already. Building shelves and other furniture will make it even better.
Over the bed the swan figure sways on its cord as the air draw from the fire place shifts the air.
<CALLE 070 Swan Cabin strengthened>
-
On a restful stroll on the hills Calle came across a mother elk and calf. Firing away one of the new broad head arrows it struck the thorax but high on the ribs. There wasn’t any major bleeding. Tracking for hours was a mix of wanting to stop the animal’s pain and to recover the valuable broad head. A half dozen bone tipped arrows were fired with no hits. Calle’s mind also pondered that the calf ought to stay with the mother for a few more months.
After recovering a volley of arrows Calle broke off taking the chance to scout out stones to use as an anvil later. While carrying a candidate the elk and calf came across him again. Dropping the stone to use the longbow he didn’t get into a good shooting position. Heading away to find another stone he sees her again. Dropping this stone and tracking fails to get a shooting position. At least he returned to collect the second stone.
Putting out heather on a tree branch, “Forest spirit. Calle has been hunting and it neither goes well nor seems right. This is a peace offering for the pain she has. May you pluck my arrow from her to ease her pain. May the elk spirits and Calle met again in a better way. She is cunning and strong. Today she bested Calle of Swan Cabin.”
The next day he spent the hours smoothing the anvil stone to have a working area. Calle paused putting his elbows on the stone.
“That hunt brought me a stone for working metal. It is still a blessing that the elk led me to,” said Calle, “Thank you.”
Getting up he gave a light tap to the swan figure. It flew on its yarn back and forth.
Day 4 of the 11th week before midwinter, beginning of dead month
One of several projects draws to completion. A set of well made shelves go up in the south notch of Swan Cabin. Swinging light panels turn on simple cords. This becomes a safe place for storing ready foods, spices and herbs.
Next morning Calle went to another project. In the hollow just to the west of Swan Cabin he started stacking stones, rocks and packing with clay. Large and small branches gave a framework for the topside clay. A fire was started inside to start drying. This would be a kiln for latter projects, like a clay tea kettle.
Food stocks were still quite good. Random catches of birds or hares attracted to the cellar provided fresh meat while stocks of traded for perserved meats was still worthy of couple of months. Since he no longer had to rush for food nor warmth Calle was able to focus on the building. Having a cask to refill a more manageable tub of cool water in the cabin had made chores and getting a drinking free of the smashing lake ice each time.
The worst storms were yet to come. He hoped the use of the hollow would protect the clay work. A half wall smithy might be a good idea for shielding the charcoal mounds that would be needed.
Calle took a moment to list out Swan Cabin projects for this winter:
Make charcoal
Perhaps build a guard wall for the charcoal making
If charcoal smelt iron
If iron make a metal shovel
When kiln dry make a tea pot
Other clay perhaps for pot for more water
Check trap pits every few days for captures
Check food stocks every few days to warn in time to get more
Build more shelving boxes for tools, bones and supplies
Grind flour from available grains keeping seed stocks in the cellar
Turn wool stocks into sheets
make wool clothing layers especially spares for feet and hands
If available time expand cabin with smoker room before spring
Calle then realized he could make the smoker as part of the shielding wall for the hollow. It was going to have a wall of sorts anyway. He would consider how to lay that out if it was going to be possible. Then the south west room of Swan Cabin could be something else.
<CALLE 071 homesteading plans>>>
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The clutter of tools and materials was awkward. Calle had been preparing to make more shelving. Then it occurs to him that is all work that can be done indoors. That can be saved for the stormy days.
Taking time to consider the hollow workspace, Hot Hollow, Calle took note of how long it took to raise walls for Swan Cabin. Each section area takes about two days to fell and move the trees, one day to shape them into to suitable building logs then two days to get them in place. Five days for each set. Two or three of those for a one sided shelter. Two weeks. That would take into the stormy weather. For the limited amount of metal he gathered that is a lot. Calle figures instead that this winter he will use fencing on top of the hollow’s lip to break up the winds and snow. The better system can come in later years when there is much more ore to work. By putting the charcoal mounds just inside the windward rim will help too.
A day of harvest, then a sleep in the comfort of Swan Cabin. Even without a fire residual heat from the fireplace stones, fur blankets and his clothes kept Calle comfortable.
Setting the fence line on top the hollow’s edge went quickly. An upright, a few horizontals of split stakes, a bit of wilderness lashings so they brace each other then weave among that spruce branches. When the wind hits it this will slow it down. That is how snow fences make them drop snow. In this case he’s doing it to slow the wind near where the charcoal mounds will go. With how the forest has grown there are spruce on the south coming to the south west corner. They are a free extension of the wind fence.
Prepping the woods for the charcoal is several days of hard chopping. The whole process is about controlled burning wood to drive out the moisture leaving high density charcoal. Only then when you run the iron making you have the density to make the highest needed to soften iron. Unsure how much charcoal will be needed Calle plans on three mounds which is around four trees of firewood.
Mounds are simple in theory. Pile up the firewood interlocking then cover in dirt to limit the air flow. A full flame will consume all the energy in the wood. The goal is remove the moisture and low density parts without taking all of it. This takes days of watching to cover up openings. Wood burning gets smaller letting small collapses happen causing extra air openings. Shifting winds or precipitation are other challenges. Its a blessing then that the three days of making the mounds is without rain. Calm dry days give promise for Calle’s charcoal stocks.
<CALLE 072 charcoal making>>>
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Eyeing the charcoal mounds in Hot Hollow Calle takes up tasks that can be done there. Fetching another tree for firewood he the bog ores are roasted. That is heated up and burned to drive off the mud, grass and moisture. Nested below the hollow’s rise with the wind fence its like a visiting cousin to the three charcoal mounds.
A few steps away on the east side is the kiln. Its now cooled and hardened. There Calle pats together cold clay lumps with water from inside the cabin. Its chilling his fingers to work with this. First he shapes a cup like shape then adds a pouring spout and a close fitting lid, a clay kettle pot. Enough to make herbal remedies. To tell his stories Calle makes a set of clay figures: a man, a woman, a tree and a cloaked figure.
Now and then he steps over to the mounds to add soil where the smoke is rising too thick. Thin wisps are fine but thick streams mean a flame has started.
Another day of charcoal tending is a day at the kiln. A pair of clay bowls and clay cups for dining in the cabin. A pair of amphora to store water in the cabin allowing the tub to be focused on supplying the Hot Hollow workspace. Also a clay pot for a backup to the iron pot. That used less than half the clay Calle had dug up. Calle decides to commit to a large amphora, like the traders of old. It can backup the cask for storing water.
<CALLE 073 clay projects>>>
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Past the half way point on the charcoal Calle pondered what tools he would need. A forge of stones and rock had been setup in Hot Hollow during one of the clear days. A large anvil stone had been found and worked to be ready. Wood of sorts was around though one could always stock more. There was a tub for quenching hot metal to lock the form in place. A whetsone was already part of his tool kit. The stone hammer he made for carpentry could be used though having different shapes was useful. A bellows would be needed as well.
In his stocks was pitch glue for making another punt. With ice on the waters those could be used for binding a stone hammer. Calle assembled a stone hammer with the stone’s natural contours coming out a little rounded. Useful for some shapes but not for flat. Picking another stone from his mass collected pile he worked up a second stone hammer. He picked it for having a marbling like his carpentry hammer. This one came out with a similar fine flat face. Both these hammers would be used in Hot Hollow.
A flare up was shooting out a mound. Hurrying over Calle shifted what earth he could shovel over the spot. It would have damaged or wasted some of the charcoal. This was why they needed tending. Winter had been mild so far with a few brief snows still more than a thin dusting on the ground. Next he went to check the wind fence. A few spruces benefited from shifting. On the fence he put out heather petals as an offering of peace and prosperity.
Day 1 of the 9th week before midwinter
Calle inspected the first mound he started. Only a faint wisp was coming off it. Using the shovel as a lever he lifted a window of earth to look inside. Blackened warm coals looked back at him. His first batch was ready. Also cooled was the second amphora, intended for the kitchen, and the large amphora for the second level of water reserves. The latter was filled up at the lake. If changed his mind he could always pour it out and drain it.
Onto a bellows. Calle has many bird hides for the leather. It would be full of leaks if made with so many tiny seams. Instead he cuts up his only remaining large leather sheet from the reindeer. This will have the least amount of air losses. Combining the boards as two flats with the leather between, a hollowed out slender for a short nozzle and handles he pushes it closed with a whoosh. He dashes about the cabin giving pumps at the dust. Swan’s figure is giving a few blasts to feel the wind on it’s face.
Laughing for a while Calle reached for the clay kettle pot. Inside was a mild heather tea like the stronger versions he used when he had bog poisoning.
Ah, he needed to smelt the ore into a bloom. He needed a bloomery now! Having accepted the Swan’s blessing to life here there was great edge affects. This time what he needed was stones and rocks. Large stones he had a plenty. To get the chinking rocks Calle hiked to the nearby hills. With different terrain around each offers different resources so by living on an “edge” you get more access.
As he started to pile them up he didn’t see how to keep the heat in. That’s right there needed to be clay. A giant oven of clay with rock and stone lattice for structure. Calle’s ambitious use of the clay had depleted his stocks to almost done. With a wail Calle ran for the lake shore. He scoured into the pit. The lower ground was still workable. Had he not made the clay pit earlier this wouldn’t be possible. Into the darkening night he dug until he had twice what he figured he would need. Dumping it at Hot Hollow he scurried cold and wet into Swan Cabin.
Calle started a fire with kindling and a poorer board from all the splitting work building the cabin. A nice long lasting fire. Calle dashed down to the lake, following the line of upright branches to the lake. He pushed himself into the frigid ice with it collapsing as expected. Being right at the shore he gave himself a long over due bath. The clay would clump up if not removed!
Teeth chattering Calle staggered in the night following the branches uphill. Back inside Calle went beside the fire. Undressing he hung his clothes up. With the tub Calle washed himself and his clothes in detail.
Under the furs next to the fire Calle slept a warm sleep. In the morning the clothes were dry. It was a good time to check them all for wear. A few minutes of repairs now might stop disaster later. It reminded he still planned to make wool socks, lots of them!
Going out to Hot Hollow Calle assembles the larger bloomery. It towers over the first forge he built. Both have their uses.
<CALLE 074 Bloomery up>>>
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Day 2 of the 9th week before midwinter, Dead month
Pounding with the new flat stone hammer Calle is sweating. The bloomery heat is flowing onto him. With his free hand he works the top bellows handle while his foot holds the bottom in place. Releasing the bellows he resumes smashing on the glowing bloom. Forced charcoal heating is the hottest he’s ever been around. Dense charcoal with air blown on into a confined space. So many strange scents shedding from the bloom. As he pounds it more unbound slag falls away. The useless parts like unwanted bark to a carpenter. Hours of heating, pounding, turning, heating and pounding.
Hooking it with the stone of the hammer, the only part that wouldn’t burn, the first ingot of iron is pulled off the striking rock. Fluttering snow instantly sizzles on its heat. As it cools Calle takes it to the cabin to show the Swan figurine. Fresh bread of hemp scents the cabin today.
Three days later Calle is stroking his whetstone against the iron edge. Grandfather had said that the first things a smith should make is tools. This is the first tool. A shard of iron now flattened in the front then half the front slopped. On to the square back is fitted and lashed tight the wood of handle. That front slope now run to consistent fine edge. Now honed to be a very fine small knife. Useful in all sorts of crafts. Getting this first tool made is a proof of the forge and the smith.
<CALLE 075 first iron small knife>>>
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Day 1 of the 8th week before midwinter
The fine small iron knife made elegant curls of wood as it whittled the handle. Its shaft narrowed just near the top so that the swell became a brace for a short cross bar. A little rubbing of thinned pine tar as a sealant. A little more onto the lashings to the cross bar would dry like a glue. On the business end of the handle Calle slid on an iron scooping body arcing into a broad cutting triangle. He sit it against the fireplace stones where the heat would continue to dry it all together. This would be a fine shovel indeed. Come the spring the ash turning would go so much faster!
Third of the iron goods made is a flat iron hammer. This would be vital to even heavier build projects with a strength beyond that of his best stone hammer. As it came to life there were small spots of gaps on the surfaces. Impurities had survived the blooming and working to release now. It left the facing a bit rough in spots. Strong but not the best. Called took a deep frustrated breath. That was the end of the iron stocks he had gathered.
With a few deep breaths Calle focused on having made three iron tools: a small knife, shovel and the iron hammer. These would be a great advantage in crafting to come. As a further soothing Calle puttered with the clay to make two more amphora for the kitchen. A small clay kettle pot is shaped up with two ring handles. These are for cords to secure to a pack while traveling or hung by cords from a tripod over a fire.
After the few days of that tool making the ground is without snow. Its still possible then to make a good hike. Calle elects to attempt active hunting. Preparing seems a luxury. Flours are ground both rye and hemp. Fresh swirl breads are made. Hard tacks and dried meats for stable reserve foods are chosen. Berries are set by the fireplace to dry out for better storing in the cellar.
When it comes to medical supplies Calle has choices as well. Kuopia special mixture is still with him in case things get really bad. Having a travel kettle means being able to access boiled treatments. The medicines of choice are nettle, heather and stone crop. Nettle is for covering cuts, teas for lungs and nutrition in general. Heather is magnificent as a treat all tea and for keeping wounds clean. He has a small amount of stone crop for surface wounds as well.
For drinking and making teas Calle has his skin and cleaned out a kitchen canteen as a reserve.
For fighting there is the fine broadsword that he is getting better at using, his fine handaxe that is always useful, a woodsman axe for double handed hitting, his hunting knife for bleeding and small knife if it comes to it. The splitting axe will be left behind. The fine trade longbow is supported by a dwindling number of bone tipped raven arrows, a few fowling arrows and a good supply of foreign broadheads. The first trade longbow, a few arrows, stone knives and hammers are being left here. That superb oak roundshield with leather bound iron grip will come as well. Clothing is layers of cloths with leathers and furs in many places. He has the iron knees but never did get an iron helm.
As he leaves the cabin heather petals are blown with a kiss to the Swan spirit.
<CALLE 076 going hunting review>>>
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OOC:
Calle's been coping with his isolation by not being alone. His view is he is with the area spirits (forest, river, lake) and animal presences (lynx, bear, fox, elk). For the animals the spirit is in just one animal but a spirit of the group. So killing a bear for valued hunt is honoring the bear spirit, or spirit of the bears. Rampage killing can anger the spirits leading to them attacking, or asking the spirit bear to send one of his warriors.
In his saga Calle has mad various figurines to represent them. Using them to tell their stories connects the spirit to the people. Having it in a place can be an invitation for the spirit, like the Swan to his home, or to show that the spirit is already present, like the guardian spirits.
A list of his figurines so far is:
Elk = fine wood figurine, from elk that became a bear, at bed
Bear = wood figurine, from elk that became a bear, at bed
Fox = wood figurine, guards cellar, put at cellar
Lynx = wood figurine, trouble maker at the field, put at fields shelter
Swan = wood figurine, finding the north site, blessing spirit of Linenfell, hung over bed
Man = clay figurine, Swan Cabin bed
Woman = clay figurine, Swan Cabin bed
Tree = clay figurine, Swan Cabin bed
Cloaked figure = clay figurine, Swan Cabin bed
Cloaked figure is there to represent anyone else in the story like a trader or worker or a mystery.
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From Swan Cabin Calle emerges in the early morning where it is still dark. The days are shorter. North Wind will be coming soon. Calle figured he had a month or more of food left. That might mean coming out in the middle of North Wind’s prowl. Even a moderate kill at this point would extend that. With the cold air being dry North Wind can be helpful in drying out the meats. Thus he may be able to preserve the meats himself. That takes a month or so to dry which is the month of food he has in stock. Its a good time to match this hunt.
In the warmer season Calle has setup various travel shelters. These are now way stations for a hunting trek. If wounded or cold and unable to get to Swan Cabin he can shelter in those. Exploring to find them also gives him some idea of the ground.
A deep exhale. Last hunt he wounded an elk mother with a calf. A broad head arrow lost. He kneels down. Placing heather on the ground he takes several breaths of regret for hurting her.
Thick soled excellent shoes from his mother get good purchase on the hardening ground. Over them wraps of bear fur wrapped around. Another layer of warmth. So far the snows haven’t thickened. Skiing isn’t possible this is a foot hunt. There is a risk the snows might thicken while he is out. That bear fur and his leather shin guards will be keeping his legs warm.
Heading north west the first camp is at Rest Head. A kindly named pond. Its frozen now. The shelter is still standing with a bit of tumble in the spruce. High winds or perhaps a squirrel climbing on it. Calle smiles. Perhaps the Old Man of the Forest had rested here.
Carrying on north west Calle shifted from ridge to ridge. A person was seen to the south west but contact wasn’t established. Probably a tribesman also spooked at seeing Calle shambling fur warrior on the ridge. At noon Calle decided that a half day’s walk was a good place for a temporary shelter. A small bird was strolling around showing a good sign of life. With that blessing Calle sets up a shelter and fire ring between two boulders next to the frozen lake. This spot would be a watering place if needed.
From the nearby high ground Calle spots a lynx. Closing in gets in bow range. A shot is made as it bolts. A miss that sticks into a birch. Arrow recovered Calle won’t try to pursue. Carrying on into the early dark Calle made another shelter and fire ring on Loss Heath, where spruce meets mire. The mire having pockets of water.
In the morning Calle extends further north west. This will make it up to two nights to get back to Swan Cabin. The sun barely crosses the horizon. In these brief lit hours kota, traveling tents, are seen. Calle moves to meet this Owl village.
Villagers describe it as staying in Lynx Wood. A fair name given how many lynx’s Calle has met. They mention another village currently camped to the south at Bad Forest.
Calle laughed, “Why would anyone want to camp there?”
“Give it a mean name and no one will come to bother you!,” Leja laughed back.
The had good furs which didn’t really interest him, this time. Calle moved off south as was suggested. Another temporary shelter where spruce and mire meet. Shelter and water both. Good things for these safety shelters to have. It was proving a problem to have so little day light. Once it dimmed it would be easy to miss game or the village.
Next morning Calle met another group of foreign traders. Trade gestures are made. Calle though shows his pack is empty of furs. After peace signs get exchanged Calle continued on his way. One of them did have a nice bronze bracelet. Once again no game and another shelter placed near a watering place, this time at Pot Head on the north banks of Wolf’s Land lake. This place is also right to the wonderfully named “Troll forest”. Now there’s a bad name for a scenic spot. Across Wolf’s Lake the islands make a passable chain with good view across the ice in either direction. An interesting spot to endurance hunting. It would be about two days so one overnight between here and Swan’s Cabin on an east-west hike.
At noon its time for another safety shelter. This goes up at Tar Wild being south west of Swan’s Cabin. The last of the swirl bread is eaten with several cuts of meats available to continue. It turns out the lake of Tar Wild is pretty big though at times incomplete water system. Worried about being cut off he is staying on the north or north east banks. On this bearing he is skimming into Kuamo lands.
Onward around the large lake a wolf is spotted to the south. Calle turns east. It is unwise to risk a hungry pack. Going this way he founds the Kuamo homestead of Gorge Trail. Calle heads in to warn them of the wolves. A pair of old men waddle up on their canes to try to get Calle to decide who moves first across the sky, the sun or the moon. Calle steps back saying he needs to spread the wolf warning. That’s not an argument that anyone can win.
Using his axes Calle prepares boards for construction and middle lasting fires. In exchange he collects a bag of peas, a bag of broad beans, roasted meats and a spare nettle cloak. It was also a good time to use their well to refill his skin and canteen. For a bit more trading Calle assembled a table for one of the homes. Housekeeper Hetti gave him a dozen roasted meats. Likely he could have gotten more. He didn’t want to press that she couldn’t spare more. All of them gathered in the hall that night. Calle told of the stories of the Elk that became a bear and of meeting the Swan. The old men told a story of a goblin in a long forgotten cave and the other of a battle in his youth with the red shirted Nerjpez who tried raiding here.
“If you are seeking the towns,” Hetta says, “My sister’s family lives at Quarrel Wide a couple of miles south-east. If you go there tell her my son recovered from his fever and we will visit in the spring.”
Calle agreed, if he did find the village. In these days it was a common thing for travelers to carry messages. Perhaps one day it will be someone’s job just to carry such messages from place to place.
Trekking in the dark too him to ice he didn’t want to try crossing. Waiting for the brief light Calle figured he had crossed south of Swan’s Cabin. He must be getting close to the long river networks that went to the coast. Sure enough he was now bound by a long river. It led to a village but not the one expected: Fist Stream. Deciding he ought to turn back north Calle spoke with their sage. He agreed to see that Hetta’s message was passed on. He new the village and one of them was expected to visit here tomorrow.
Exploring unfamiliar woods Calle realized he has wandered onto a pennisula with major rivers on each side. This is the sort of thing he was worried off. The ice is to thin to walk on and he has no boat. Turning back he sees an elk crossing the path he’d followed! Notching an arrow Calle raises, then lowers. He doesn’t actually figure he could cripple nor get the meat to anywhere other than the last village. With the elk is a calf. Calle studies them. They do look familiar. Was it the one that he had wounded?
Going south looking for a ford Calle spots a village to the west. Wonderfully located across two rivers!
At Fist Stream is the ford. That’s why they built there. Crossing back and moving north westerly to that seen village Calle is on a mire when a reindeer family moves in sight. Looking over the animals Calle bypasses the doe with a calf. Lining up on a stag he lets loose.
The whizzing sound of the arrow alerts the stag who turns to look. The broad heads punctures in and out of its face. Gushing blood spills out in wicked spurts. The chase is minimal. That’s why hunters use broad heads. Wide cutting wounds that slash arteries.
Processing the stag the herd circles back several times. It must have been the head stag for them to do that. Once the guts are out, antlers taken, meat quartered and main bones collected Calle cleans the hide. He’s not entirely sure he can get it back to Swan Cabin to process in time.
Carrying the meat to the village it turns out to be Death’s Rapid. Not the one with Hetta’s sister.
While they have bags of grain Calle remembered his real point was in getting meat to dry. It is cold. It might last to get it home. He should be able from here to use “hand rail” navigation. Holding the bank of the river as if it was hand rail on a flight of stairs.
One night sleeping on the river bank passes safely. In a few more hours he is on the south edge of of the large lake south of Swan Cabin. It is moon light guiding him in the afternoon. A decent half moon giving the lands a silvery hue.
Having stocked cordage its a quick matter to hang the meat out in the cold to dry. Its over seventy pounds now. It will weigh less once dried. Along with the beans and peas Calle gained five weeks of food stocks in this trip. Sorting the supplies includes checking there is reserve stocks for planting. Calle realizes that the amphora would be even better than the bags in keeping things safe in the cellar. The four amphora become the hosts to most of the seed stocks. That will also avoid him accidentally eating them!
To celebrate Calle nibbles up portions of he dried berries that have been waiting for him. He just couldn’t resist! Probably wasn’t the smartest thing. The rest goes for safe keeping in the cellar.
A set of traps are setup to guard where on the outside of the house the reindeer is drying. Now Calle realizes he could have used the shelter by the cellar which was already guarded. Next time!
Laughing Calle repeats like Gerbrand to Gerwin in the foreign traders tongue, “Next time.”
As for the hide it is being tanned though it has a lot of small tears. It looks like the stag had been fighting to protect the herd before Calle came along. Perhaps the wolves had tried for the calves. Hoping the herd would be all right Calle blew out the shutter heather petals.
As well the smithing tools were moved in. There wasn’t enough ores left to work up anything useful. A small knife for carving, shovel for agriculture and an iron flat hammer for smithing were good tools to have. Sighing Calle wished the iron on the hammer had come out better.
“Next time!”
As for now Calle was breathing deep with a big smile. That was a good quest! Five days at least judging by the berries beside the fireplace. New hunting grounds, new owl villages, new Kuamo villages, the wounded elk with calf survived and a reindeer harvested. Enough meat drying for the times of North Wind’s claws. Fists pounded his chest.
Calle started carving that night. His hands were a bit shaky from the excitement. It came out not so good so he set it into the fire. After sleepy waking calm he started again. What came out was a wooden reindeer figurine with two hare bones for antlers.
Looking up to the swaying Swan overhead Calle told it, “This is inspired by the hunt that went north and came back from the south. The stag that will be with me when North Wind comes. Its also for all the reindeer of the hunts, herds and free in the forest. See it has antlers! Of course it does.”
<CALLE 077 North to hunt in the south>>>
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Splash!
“Blargle”
Calle’s hands flailed for the edge of the ice. Soaking furs pulling him down.
Madness.
Belly sliding on top of the ice.
Clawing hands pulling his legs out.
Belly crawl to the shore.
Stagger up the slope.
“Stupid! Stupid!”
Run for the cabin.
Calle had been off checking hills then the west lakeshore for trapping ideas. A dazed thought was in his head to cross the ice as a short cut to the cabin. A bow length north and one south is all that would have saved. If the ice had held! A moment of bored distraction.
Laughing North Wind, “Dare you to challenge me!”
Numbing cold stealing control of limbs and fingers. Shoulder slams the door straining leather hinges.
“Focus,” Calle said swaying into Swan Cabin, “Fire.. 3 by 3 … and something large. 3 stands of kindling laid… 3 fire woods on top as medium start… a board on top of that. Tufts of kindling. Pouch is wet. Use the shelf stock.”
Shaking hands strike iron on flint. Huffs blowing in panic. Ash in the fireplace fluffs into the air stinging eyes. A glow. Its not from the tinder. An old ember coming to life. Feeble fingers sliding the shelf tinder to the ember.
North Wind swirls dancing through the open door.
“Save me Swan.”
Swaying twisting the Swan figurine points to the door. A swirl of snow as beating wings blow outward.
Glow becomes flicker on the tinder. A flicker a candle, a candle a flame, a flame a crackle, a crackle a roar.
Calle dumps his many wetted layers. Rushed arms slap the bed furs around him.
Breathing becomes deeper. Steadier breathing. His warmth returning. Fur wrapped Calle gets to the door.
“You are mightier than I north wind,” Calle says, “I never meant to insult you. My mind was confused. Thank you for leaving me alive. Thank you Swan for aiding me.”
Calle closes the door. A pinch of heather is found, flicked out a shutter as a sign of submission. At the bed he pulls out the spare nettle cloak from the recent trade. Rubbed on hair and body as a towel he dries before the glowing fire.
A moment. That’s all it takes to die.
Preparation is all it takes to live.
Outside a grouse whines in a trap. Calle studies over the tens of minute as clothes and body warm.
“Thank you Swan,” Calle says, “You sent a gift of food that Calle can have the energy to live. Thank you.”
Friends, real friends, are there when you are in danger. That’s when they truly love you.
<CALLE 078 North Wind’s Might>>>
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Awakening from the daze Calle was still alive. Swan had even sent two more birds to the traps. Fresh meat to restore Calle’s strength. Clothing was drying still.
This near death taught Calle a lesson. As well as to stay alert in the woods or don’t go out there is that he ought to improve the fireplace. Working to pull out stones the put stones and rocks back may seem odd. In those desperate moments he had wanted to water hot rocks. Then hot moist air would restore his temperature even faster. Rebuilding was for this purpose to go from a simple fireplace to one with access hot rocks to be a wet sauna. Certainly the Lake Room of Swan Cabin was big, nearly twice the village sauna. It was that in desperation anything to warm faster should be prepared.
Preparation is all it takes to live.
The next day Calle rechecked the roof around the changed chimney. Little adjustments made with wedges. The next pieces over resettled as well. Clay and wood shaving were mixed to make a cob to seal the stone to wood joint. A strong fire was started. As it dried out the clay more wood was added. It took far longer than Calle expected to warm the exposed stones. It was the first firing too. In time water poured on the inner stones did spatter into steam. Swan Cabin did bring a swelter of heat. Yes, if in danger again he could make a large fire, stay near it and make steam on fire stones.
Calle hoped others building long term homes would think to do the extra work at the beginning to make more than a fireplace. The sauna stones may save your life. It also can be relaxing on better days to enjoy a good sweat in the middle of winter.
<CALLE 079 Sauna refit>>>
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While hiding after his fearful fall into the water Calle assembled the second set of shelves. This was up on the north side of the Lake Room of Swan Cabin. In there went tools, bones and leather. Now the open spaces would only have out the current projects at work.
Taking stock of his situation for the coming of North Wind’s worst Calle figures on having 2 months of food but one more would be better.
Wood for heating could be gathered if needed though really its safer to stock it now. Figure on a large stump block a day with eight or so from each tree. That makes one tree last a week. With the worst being a month that makes four trees of stump blocks to be nearby. Now if he burned his craft woods that could be extended. Taking out the sledge wagon for one or two days will get the trunks, which can later be stumped.
Today has a full moon for the morning. Its a good chance to do that timber felling. Resetting the pit fences would be good too. When the moon set the sun was rising. It was strange way to have good lighting. In two days Calle had brought in seven trees with half of them split already. On the third morning Calle unleashed his vigorous energy under moonlight to finish splitting the trees into stump sized blocks. The warmth part of deep winter was well in hand.
He had seen a lynx in that time. Looked like it has even stolen a captured bird from a trap near the pit fence. Calle left that trap disabled. Outside Swan Cabin the lynx tracks had come right up to a meat baited trap then left. Calle placed loop snares on those track in case it returned that way.
Looking over his clothing it seemed silly to have a nettle cloak. His legs were without fur too. From the face slain stag Calle put together fur leggings. Though the other wounds left bits of gaps it was a winter fur with the extra hairs. Nettle yarn sewed up thanks to the bone needles.
Calle went off on another early winter hunt. Starting with the north west nearby hills this time he would turn clockwise to north and on to east.
One night in the woods then he closed in on a small elk. Spruces hid each other until close. The ready arrow away hit and it stumbled. A broad head notched and fired as it got up. She fell again. Closing to ready a knife Calle was startled when it got up and bolted. Frustration! He could have just shot it again. There was a blood trail started.
It was a half bow shot’s walk to find where she fell. Calle was arriving as she breathed her last.
Putting out heather Calle knelt beside her, “Elk spirit thank you for your life. Thank you for coming to me in this time before the harshest winter. Your great bounty will be respected. May you find the way back to the spirit realm swiftly to return to us again.”
She was small enough that Calle could lift the hide, backstrap, meat harvest and bone too, yet big enough that it was a near thing.
At the cabin processing continued. A lynx was prowling about attracted by the smells. Calle remembered to use the spruce shelter by the cellar with its guard traps. Much was setup to dry on and hanging from the shelter. Fresh bits were put aside in the cellar for refreshing bait. A portion Calle kept for roasting up now. For a treat Calle took out the iron pot to boil up an elk and turnip stew flavored with sorrel.
As for the hide Calle was so impressed with it that his thoughts of making a large leather sheet were forgotten. It was a very fine hide she had. Young and without damage yet thick with winter hairs.
(possible bug, the sauna stove doesn’t allow baking [bake] so had to put a fireplace back in. for now there is both a fireplace and sauna in order to have all the game functions. Story wise this would mean having expanded the assembly to share a chimney rather than the tear down and rebuild.)
<CALLE 080 Elk soup>>>
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Through the shutter he had seen the lynx take a look out from the spruce at the drying reindeer meat. Before sorting out the cabin (swapping location of the fireplace and sauna due to that bake issue) Calle set out predator traps near the lynx trails on the north side of the cabin. This was a medium and big trap. The latter took a trip to the hills to get enough stones for the weight.
It would be big deadfall trap that pinned the lynx. To preserve this winter hide Calle dispatched it using the rough flat iron hammer. It was the tool’s christening in combat! It took longer than expected. Perhaps the stone hammers with their heavier weight would be better.
“Next time!” bellowed Calle.
<CALLE 081 Lynx with big deadfall>>>
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Day 4 of the 5th week before midwinter
Framing wood, axes and knives fitting mortise and tenon joints, dowel pins locking the joints, reinforcing cordage and numerous rocks for mild weights combing under Calle’s skilled hands to assemble a loom.
Merrily whistling Calle brings over the wool spools he had traded for during warmer seasons. The image of the sheep pen with its many sheep. A few arrows for the spooled yarn. The women had been great with their spindles making it into yarn. Now those yarns had become sheets. One of the those sheets becomes a wrap around his head and neck.
More yarn is worked by bone needles. Calle’s thick fingers wiggle the needles with inaccurate strokes. Its very fussy getting things to stay neat. Socks are done as simple tubes closed together. Those came out well. Feel very cozy on his feet! A second pair are made to rotate drying. Mittens are more a challenge requiring a joint for the thumb while balancing warmth against being thin for handling tools. Unsatisfied Calle made a second set trying to improve with a similiar result of a few large holes than desired. Well a second pair of mittens for drying rotation is good. Along the wall bed Calle taps notches then fits branch pegs to allow hanging the extra socks and mittens. A wool cap is worked up as a sleeping cap when he doesn’t want to wear furs on his head.
Calle had greatly under estimated how much yarn he should have bought. In the spring he can check the sheep herders again. The socks and mittens will a great defense against frostbite in the feet and hands.
Two days later Calle brought out the skis for the first time this winter. It was fun gliding on the gentle slopes at Swan Cabin. Calle had been amazed at how quickly his constructions had gone through stones and rocks. With good light this was a day to visit hills to gather more. Out there elk tracks were crisscrossed with a fox. Had the fox been chasing the elk? Pretty brave fox!
With the success of skiing Calle went to the sledwagon. Dismounting the blocking wheels he fitted its own ski runners. Now was another easy time for moving trees. No more slogging with late fall muddy slopes.
<CALLE 082 First skiing>>>
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With the recent Lynx dealt with by the big deadfall which has been reset the loop snares by cellar can be repositioned. Calle moves them to the part way up the spruce trees. The target now is squirrels that would evade the other guard traps. As with guarding your food even if you lose a little if you catch the culprit you gain it as a replacement.
Drying wood takes time. Dry wood makes certain goods. One of those to be long bows for trade. Calle splits up a fresh spruce tree and sections left from earlier. He places them upright under the bows of spruce. The air outside is now very dry. These will be sufficiently seasoned shortly after the winter solstice. Being that is when North Wind is the most active they will be a good in cabin project.
A few other spruce near the cabin are brought down. Its important not to over harvest near your homestead. The trees break up the wind, give you shade, are part of the harmony and if an emergency does happen they are their then. These ones are coming down just outside the cellar tree and trap ring. With more traps up Calle needs to be able to both walk and ski around. Also when the trees are spaced out a squirrel can’t just jump from to another. The squirrel would have to climb down to the ground, run across the ground and then running up might run into the loop snares.
Once the splitting axe has parted the spruce into boards they get an inspection. Better ones are set aside, most go in a common pile and those with flaws are added to the wood pile for heating. Those better ones are carefully stacked under the spruce trees to do their own drying.
A pleasant ski to the hill tops looking for signs of activity. Along the way the pit fences are reset. At the fields Calle recalls those hard working urgent days for the first ash turns. Peas weren’t reliable but he did get turnips up. There was threshing work waiting him too.
Coming back to the cabin there is a happy surprise. A cellar loop snare has a prize. Its not a squirrel but a small hare. It must have been hoping to get at the scents from the cellar. Well that’s a nice homecoming from a happy ski.
Its now less than a month to midwinter.
As far as survival Calle is without illness, can breath, has shelter to sleep in, warmth from layered clothing including furs, warmth from the fireplace and stocks of wood, water from the lake, water in the cabin in two large containers so that the are never both empty at the same time, food in his travel kit, food ready in the cellar and drying meats for months. He is quite well supplied.
He decides there is one more warmth layer to have. One that is also decent protection in a fight: a bear fur overcoat. He does have enough elk to sleep over him and the harsh bear fur for the under mat. As he starts to work he notices the see through spot on his reindeer fur leggings. Those had been made last year with his early kills and early hideworking skills. It will be then both a bear fur overcoat and leggings to upgrade his winter warmth. Those also make him a sturdier warrior in battle.
<CALLE 083 Bear overcoat>>>
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Working in the month before the winter solstice has a challenge. Sunlight to work by is scarce. When there is a good moon long work days can be put in. In the no moon times there is only enough time to fell and sled over a few trees at a time. No further work outdoors can be done. Inside a soft glowing fire is adequate if needed. The shutters on the north and east wall would give light if there was light to let in. Still they are good for controlling an air flow like driving out smells.
These are coming in for the plans for a smokehouse. That isn’t needed now when the air is dry. It will be needed in the spring, summer and fall when the air is wet again. Calle has decided to build it as a separate structure a short way down the east slope from Swan Cabin. There is a cleared area large enough for a narrow smoke house. The distance is a safety margin in case one or the other catches fire.
Day 2 of the 3rd week before midwinter
The first meat hung to dry outside Swan Cabin is ready! Calle made it. The stores of food still had a few dried meats, dried berries, lots of wild greens and bag of grains for flour beyond the seed grains. With the reindeer in now he is good for weeks. Then the elk will be ready. That tight transition has been passed healthy, safe and well fed.
Going to sleep earlier Calle rose in the early hours. These were the ones with the light to work. With stable food work progressed. Game sighting right now were scarce. Pleasantly fed this isn’t an issue at this moment. Work was focused on logging and sledding in trees for the smoke house. It was going quite fast now in a routine. A few times he flopped to sleep in the snow. Snow was easy to knock off bear fur overcoat and bear leggings. Other fur, leather, cloth and wool layers so far made a comfortable sleep. He was shambling as a swaying mound of fur, just like the bear that once wore the fur itself.
A few days later more trees were gathered outside Swan Cabin. At this point Calle needs to start finalizing the build plan. Then it occurs to him. This could be done before even midwinter. Is a detached smoke house not needed for months really the right thing to build now. Swan Cabin was always intended to have a west side to the large Lake Room he currently slept, cooked, worked and everything in. The south west was planned to be a hot room, a sauna, and if really needed an occasional smoker. The smoke could be resisted or tolerated if it was really needed. Certainly if Calle was struck by North Wind again the sauna room would be far faster to heat up than the whole Lake Room. That might just save his life and the smoking can be delayed for a few months yet.
<CALLE 084 Building plans>>>
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This is one of those strange light days. Moon light in the small hours let Calle gather trees for the sled and a second run for large building stones. Early morning is bizarre. The moon is down yet the sun isn’t showing over the horizon. Faintest glow fills the land. Waiting a halfway is still the same. He can barely see farther than the tip of sword in hand. Well, this is what is there to work with.
Skiing out Calle hears rustling near the west trap fence. By the fields there is a bull elk stuck!
Hours of work, sleeping, working and sleeping again is needed to spill the guts, remove the hide, quarter the animal, transport portions back multiple times, clean the hide, prepare the meat for drying, gather existing cords, make more split spruce ties, hang the meat, mix the brain and fat tan, tan the hide and assemble the antlers into a victory horn.
Well now Calle is immensely stocked on food!
The new bull elk hide still had rinsing and stretching to go through. Another hard day of work lay ahead.
Sitting himself down on the bed with the elk furs already there Calle blew on the horn. He laughs to the Swan figurine. This was such an easy harvest or was it easy? Words from his people come to him.
“A moment. That’s all it takes to die. Preparation is all it takes to live.”
That pit took hours of digging and the fence line as well. Having the guarded drying place outside in the winter was preparation too. As was having the cabin to work the hide in winter’s cold. This brief moment of the kill was easy. Preparing for this moment had been hard.
Calle flops back on the bed. His grin as wide as swan wings.
<CALLE 085 bull elk>>>
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Closing on the winter solstice, the darkest day of the year, there are times when working at night under the moon is easier. Snow growth has become a calf deep blanket. Gathering for building goes smoothly his skis and the sledwagon on its skis.
As the materials are being gathered Calle sets up a fire in the build area. This begins melting the snow. The fire wasn’t right next to the cabin. That he would shovel out.
Calle also noticed the weather had gotten colder as North Wind began looking for those to take to his ice palace. Is North Wind a male or woman? An ice queen sounds like a better story. Well with his double fur layer including the outer bear layers Calle felt cool but not cold. It didn’t feel like he was in danger. He put out heather as a respect to North Wind. Just being safe now didn’t mean being safe later. She will want something to take to her ice palace. Calle blew the heather petals northwind so they would be her guest in his place.
Days later a hare whimpers from a trap. Occasional trapping was handy for fresh roasted meat. Too much would different time to tanning. He’s skipped over tanning birds at times to focus on the building. Whether tanning or drinking water is needed. The cask has been wonderful allowing a days between breaking the lake ice. That could be extended with the amphora though its role now is the emergency reserve is a deep storm comes or he’s injured.
On a trip to refill the cask Calle skiing down to the lake could make a nice long arc onto the lake. Turning the ski tilted to catch snow he stops. If that ice breaks he would be in the clutches of North Wind. For safety Calle sets up a fencing stakes before the water edge. Those are to force him to stop, tripping him if going to fast.
“A moment is all it takes to die. Preparation is all it takes to live.”
Delimbing, debarking and shaping the trees to building logs created a lot of small material. Calle assembles batches for ground warming fires. Fire safety is important here. The last thing he wants is to set Swan Cabin on fire. A space has to be left between the fires and the cabin. Building materials are pushed. Calle stays there will the wide fire burns through what snow was unshoveled to soften the ground. Once the fire stops the shallow soft earth is cleared. Bottom logs and braces will be set on top. Come the spring thaw this should be more stable than building on frozen ground that will surely shift in spring.
Dancing fire spirits twirl in long light. Its a mesmerizing scene. Heather petals are palmed onto the fire to keep them at peace. Drumming and singing Calle recites the songs and stories of the Kuamo.
<CALLE 086 midwinter ground fire>>>
(Did test game mechanics... you can't have large fires right next to the cabin. It will burn out walls)
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The winter solstice came, the longest night, with the next promising the return to life. Last year’s challenge of First Winter had taught him to respect for North Wind’s claws. Now it is more like dancing with her. You have to respect her moves and let her have her spaces yet you can flow in and around her. To dance he wore layers of cloth, fur and bear fur. He worked on the cabin sleeping inside sheltered from her songs of cold winds. Now he was enjoying being alive in her presence though ever respectful of her strength.
To celebrate he ate raspberries, roasted hare caught the day with a smear of dried raspberries and crow berries. A cut of the meat with berry smear he left out for North Wind’s portion. Something for her to take to her spring feast rather than taking Calle.
A week and a day from the celebration Calle is stocking different sized woods of tinder, branches, boards and a stump block into the relocated sauna. This now sits in the Hot Room the south west room of Swan Cabin of Linenfell. This small room can fit a few people if they wish.
With enough stones Calle had made a taller chimney to put the sauna in a different corner. Where it was first to go in the south west corner was a higher ground, thus needing less stone, until Calle realized the importance of using that as a viewing step. With shutters on that corner’s wall he could see to the cellar or work spaces. Now the south west was were winds come from most often so he rimmed the shutter with strips of bird leather as gaskets. If he had to fight from the cabin this gives two different angles to shoot from with only the one door to the Lake Room.
Lake received a bit of work to reinforce the roof near the chimney since it had once again been changed. Calle hoped that rather than it being a weak point this would be the strongest. An extra pair of slender trunks were wedged in supporting a pair of brace boards.
Happily stripping off his clothes, packs, gear, tools and weapons a naked Calle carried a water tub into the Hot Room. Splashing water onto the heated stones naked Calle confirmed the room’s readiness with songs and dance.
(to simulate this the extra materials (2 slender trunks, 2 boards, 2 x 0.5 lb leather) were deleted then a floor section dismantled and rebuilt)
After enjoying the spiritual sauna dance for over half an hour naked Called hopped and skipped to his bed in the Lake Room. Crawling under the elk furs while over the bear fur he curled up with hare furs for pillows. He hadn’t started an overnight fireplace fire. He wanted to see how well it would be.
Come morning the night had been fine. He had been comfortable most of the time with brief flickers when a particularily strong cold wind was blowing. Calle thought it was North Wind dancing outside the cabin. Swan spirit flying with her in the unity they all now shared.
As he got dressed Calle took the time to closely inspect all his clothes, tools and weapons again. Care was giving with washing, reinforcing a seam and sharpening. This was also a testing time, a respectful one he reminded himself. How cold would he be in the cabin naked and without a fire? After an hour he had gotten cold so it was a good idea to dress. The bitterness was starting to set in as North Wind started to tap his naked bits to remind him she was stronger than he.
Calle started a fire in the fireplace. A portion of in house wood stocks was moved to the hot room. To test the air flows Calle started the sauna fire at the same time. It was good to see the smoke from both clearing out. Calle had given kept a three stones and ten rocks were piled up. These could be stacked up inside to limit the suana’s chimney to make this into a meat smoking room if really needed.
To finish up the Hot Room his carpentry skills were taken onto the stocks of boards. A bunk was added allow one to lay down in this easily heated small room. For the higher ground Calle portable bench. It could be used to enjoy the view, guard the cellar or as the heat rose to sit in the even higher warmth.
<CALLE 087 Hot room built>>>
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Late center month is still a time when North Wind is dancing outside. Calle used to call that stalking. It is a spirit. Spirits can take forms.
“When you are weak and unskilled,” Calle ponders, “Is North Wind as a man, a teaching father to harsh you into avoiding the wrong things? Then when you learn to among the beauty and joy you see North Wind as a woman dancing. A two spirit being.”
With North Wind dancing with the winds and snow outside Calle carries out one of the traditions of his people: winter crafting. Food, water, shelter and warmth all these things are available. Getting more is dangerous for what is already enough. Time then to enjoy making things inside the cabin. Earlier preparations had Calle stack under spruce trees quarter logs and boards for this time. They were seasoned enough to work. Ideally one might have them drying for a season or a year. It was enough that the shrinkage has already happened.
By the north door lays, stands and by pegs is hung expedition gear from long handled axes, long bow, kettle pot to the bear overcoat. Sitting against one wall next to the still warm stones of the fireplace Calle shaves away on quartered logs to shape longbows. Exposed is the bows center heartwood and the outer woods. Their different strength and bending useful to the compression of the inside of the pull with tension on the outside. As he works he compares his own to the two traded for longbows he had kept. Four bows are started with the reserve bowstrings.
To enjoy the winter Calle hiked, not skied, to the fence traps. It wasn’t the coldest of days yet still goodly cold. With his cloth inner layer, fur head wear, fur shirt and leather outer leggings he was fine while active. It seemed sleeping might get cold. Strength to push through the thigh deep snow was tiring yet was warming. His thighs ploughing up fluffy snow like the prow of a boat.
Calle laughed, “This is fun North Wind! Yes you are stronger and mightier than I. Now I can see your beauty too! Like the bear that kill or feed to truly be among you is to see your two spirit forms”
Standing to stretch from crafting a fourth bow Calle wondered about what arrows to make bone tipped were simple work to him now. A tug pulled Calle to the smithy. There was a mix of materials left including two blooms. One was full of messy things the other was all right. Starting back to the cabin he turned to look back. Well there was iron enough between them.
Taken by the inspiration the sun rose in its low winter arc with Calle amid hastily shoved snow pounding at the forge. Charcoal roared with heat pushed by the bellows. The snow was being crushed underneath. Still the air flowed as if more than Calle was blowing into the coals. Hammer blow strikes. A pushing on the anvil stone edge to make a parting in the iron. Blows to pull the edges apart. The sun is gone while a half moon dances in the sky. Pale eery light hears the singing of the metal hammer on the anvil stone. Catching his breath from urgent panting Calle looks at the shapes shock cooling in the snow next to the anvil. His eyes close. His head sways. The urgent adrenaline surge leaves him.
Snow snorts in his nostrils in the morning. He collapsed at the forge.
Swaying up so glad that North Wind didn’t claim him in the night he looks around the anvil.
Five pockets have melted away snow in vertical columns. Into each he reaches in to pull out a snow cooled wide diamond shapes with a fang on each side with a tail is curled up into a cone. Had he spirits done the quenching? Had he worked the bellows alone? Had they been working through him to teach him the technique?
These are broad heads for arrows!
Now with a centered determination Calle works the rest of the recent forging. He studies the new broad heads the way he studied the traded longbows. The inspiration is now a memory to draw on. Finishing the day the iron was been worked to a quiver worth of broad heads.
That evening the best arrow shafts he ever made are taken from their safe hiding spot under his bed. Eagle owl feathers held for a special thing are taken out. Nettle yarn for lashing and steady work with the whetstone. When sharpened five gleam of superb cutting power and balance while a sixth though lesser to them is surely the equal of the foreigner broad heads. One of his best is placed under his bed as a reminder of the inspired spirit smithing.
<CALLE 088 Inspired broad heads>>>
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Day of the 11th week before summer
Crafting flows along. From tree sized tall rolls of birch-bark gathered in the summer Calle assembles various sized boxes and baskets for organizing on the shelves.
(game not currently very bad to put your herb stocks in container so this is a role play thing)
On a leisure stroll to the hills Calle spots a group of foreign traders. This is good news. Calle has made it on to the touring list of places to trade. This time he has both large and small hides to trade.
Having spotted them from high ground by the time he gathered the furs, dressed in the bears and equipped for expedition they had shifted.
Calle gave a sign of peace, patted his fur bundle then said in their language, “Trade furs. Show your things.”
Spruce branches were cut down to make the two blankets. Traders came to see the furs by Calle’s spruce while offering on theirs.
Bevisald finally presents an item of interest. A graceful sweeping one handed axe with a deep edge gleaming of rippling steel. Runes have been etched onto the sides of the axe head. Red dyed leather gave grip to what was a tan oiled hickory handle. This was a true master piece.
“Cut,” Bevisald pointed to one side then the other, “True.”
Calle’s eyes flickered betraying his interest in the peace. Turning he walked to his stacks of furs including winter elk and small animals.
Bevisald looked the stack over. Reaching down Calle’s heart was pacing. Would he have enough to trade?
From the stacks the foreigner lifted only one small fur. The wintered coat of an arctic fox. He put that and only that on Calle’s spruce. Bevisald put the hand axe on the foreigner’s spruce and stood back.
“That’s it?” Calle said in his own tongue. He looked to the other traders to see if they were laughing.
The other traders were nodding with approval.
Calle clapped his hands, walked over and picked up the masterwork handaxe.
“Truth Cutter,” said Calle, “I shall call you Truth Cutter.”
Future crafting would be so much more efficient. All for one small animal fur. How wonderfully strange it is how folks value what they don’t have want a thing and those that do have it don’t want a thing.
Reviews of the other goods find little interest with Calle. Then a man named Evermot stepped forward. He waved both hands wide over all of Calle’s fur as if picking up the whole pile over and over. From his back he removed a cloak from a mass of metal onto the foreigner’s spruce. The mass uncurled to be chain mail leggings. Evermot was willing to trade!
Calle put all his furs on his spruce blanket.
Evermot flicked the ermine fur off disinterested. Then he looked back and forth and gestured for above the fur for more.
Calle shook his head and turned around gesturing at the snow.
No deal was agreed. Each took their goods back from the spruce blanket.
“Next time!” Calle shouted.
“Next time!” shouted Evermot.
A quiet ski home. Coming to his bed his hands smoothly pulled out the fine hand axe that he had started the First Winter with.
“You served me well and true good warrior,” Calle said, “When I see you remind me of the village of my home. Together they gave you to start me on the quest. You are being laid down not as a broken thing but as a victorious thing. So well have you aided me that Calle has come to have a truly great thing: Truth Cutter. Only Truth Cutter has been great enough to take your place on my belt. Still you are not being thrown away. No. You are a good friend. There may come a day I or my children need you again. For this you are being stored until you are called on again.”
A careful cleaning was given the handaxe. Strokes of the whetstone to hone and honor. A wrap of bird leather over the metal to protect it from weather. That would double in protecting others form accidents. A few board was placed under the bed. Gently onto that was laid the handaxe. The last bits of the battled bear fur laid over top. As it was tucked into its bed heather petals were placed on the fur. An offering of respect. Should something move the axe the heather would also be moved.
(turns out currently if you put herbs into a container you can’t get them out in small amounts. So the birch-bark containers were made then deleted to roleplay the better organizing. 4 baskets, 6 boxes)
<CALLE 089 Truth Cutter>>>
Pearl month it is called. When there is that deep layer of snow across the land. North Wind is still at dancing looking to snag the unprepared.
“Preparation is all it takes to live.”
Using the food and trade goods to hire workers seems a good idea. Skiing is easy right now. Collecting the four bows to be traded, arrows and dried elk Calle goes to see what can be found.
First is the Kuamo homestead of Maiden’s Stream. One of the boys sees him and runs wildly to their main hall. Calle chuckles. This is his first time coming dressed as a bear! At one of the small houses the girl Rauni recognizes him. They laughed at the boy’s flight.
“Though to be fair,” said Calle, “Stranger danger is a good instinct. If you don’t recognize them it could be danger. Get an adult. Ask if they know the right stories.”
Rauni says, “Well yes but I remember you. Sampsa and Konsta told me stories about the time the three of you fought the bear! They tell it often this winter. Calle the Winter-Proven. One day I’m going to take the First Winter challenge too!”
“A moment is all it takes to die. Preparation is all it takes to live,” said Calle, “Start preparing your skills.”
“They won’t let me fell a tree yet,” she pouted, “but chopping fire wood is good practice.”
“Oh you’ll be chopping a lot of wood,” laughed Calle, “Trust me. In your First Winter you will want a lot of firewood.”
“Hey, you’ll want to see these,” Rauni said, “Foreign traders came through. They were given our furs for this metal shirt. An adventurer needing food and fur clothes traded an old looking helm. Its beat up but it makes a great drum.”
Calle goes to where she points to the trade goods of armor: a mail habergeon, rusted mail leggings, mail knee cops, mail cowls and indeed a damaged iron spectacle helm. Calle remembers missing out on the well made helm so that is what he picks up.
“Rauni, tell the adults Calle wishes to trade.”
Rauni nods and waves over Nyri.
“Good to see you again Calle,” greeted Nyri, “We know you are a good man. You want the looking helm. What did you bring for trade? More tubs and boards?”
Calle smiled, “This time something a hunter would like even better.”
Opening his trade bundle he pulled out one of the longbows. Nyri’s eyes widened happy to see something he himself could use. They settle on three of the four bows and a few of the bone tipped arrows. Nyri and Rauni then help Calle adjust the helm’s straps to fit him right. Its strange to look out the eye loops. Calle thought it would be hard to see out. So close to your eyes the frontal armor only blocks the outer edges of sight. Taking up his bow he can still see to aim a shot.
“This is good for both of us,” Calle patted the helm.
Holding a bow up high Nyri said, “Yes is is! This prepares me for my hunt. I am going to ski out soon now that its the pearl time.”
Rauni shouted, “Preparation is all it takes to live!”
The two men laughed at the ancestral wisdom of the girl.
The boy from Calle’s arrival was leading back an old man.
Old Ollie, “Yes that is Calle bear fighter. Can Calle use his young limbs to help this old man?”
“Yes of course friends,” Calle stood up making a point to bobble his head with the new helm.
With his youth, tools and skills the chores were a quickly done. A bit of chopping, a bit of hauling and replacing the legs on a bench. Calle would be rememberd for his work next time he came to trade. For now he skied off to Button Stream.
Arriving rather tired he first went to their hall to trade stories and sleep. In the morning trade goods were shown. Calle offered to take up two of their shirts for extra elk meat he carried. This was agreed on. One shirt was woolen for winter and other linen for summer. Both were a bit unsteady in the weaving, probably made by one of the girls learning the skill. Calle was still happy to be able to swap out his nettle tunic that he had been wearing every single day for over a year!
Changing into the woolen shirt he was a bit worried about something. Both these villages had recently taken winter wolf furs for trade. There had been a pack prowling the area. It is good that he had Swan Cabin and the friendly spirits to be in during the harshest of the winter.
Apro the Kaumolais tribesman came up, “We have our village in good stocks right now. Did you want a helper at Swan Cabin? You weren’t able to come with me to your Reemi lands. That’s the way sometime. Your people treated me well when I was there.”
Calle smiled, “Glad your trip was safe. It is a long way. You understand then why I couldn’t go with you then. As to the help yes indeed. Always more lumber work at a new homestead. Here, there is one more longbow I made for trade in the Dead times. This will be your payment.”
When the bow was passed to him Apro looked it over and gave it a test pull, “This is more than enough payment. I’ve not my own bow so couldn’t hunt this year.”
“It feels right,” Calle said, “and if there are more wolves you will be glad of the bow.”
<CALLE 090 Spec helm and worker>>>
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As they were leaving the housewife Salme came up offering to trade an extra pair of linen trousers. Like the shirt a bit rough in the making but also just as useful for summer war. More elk and a few arrows meant Calle had a matching set of spare shirt and trousers.
Traveling they saw multiple animals with trouble closing on them. There was a bull elk, cow elk, reindeer and as Calle guessed wolves. Only the cow elk was closed on for a possible shot but Calle didn’t fire expecting too much trouble tracking it amid the thick spruce forest. Moonlight was reduced by snowing clouds when they arrived at Swan Cabin. Calle started a good fire. Calle and Apro settled in on furs for the work ahead.
Using the deep frozen waters they could cross easily to other woodlands to avoid over harvesting near the cabin. With the two of them working with a sledwagon the gathering was going at a rapid rate. At the end of the few days with Apro almost all the needed trees had been felled, shipped in, logged or boarded for smoke house.
Calle was again busy alone at carpentry construction. It felt different. There was no looming doom nor yet a sense of urgency. Swan Cabin offered safety. The Hot Room could be used for smoking with spillage into the Lake Room. Winter was still with the dry cold air for air drying meat.
For now all was well at the place the Swan spirit has picked.
<CALLE 091 Smoke house started>>>
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With it still being Pearl time with the good skiing Calle elects to attempt to hire a worker from the Owl tribes to the north. Two days of carpentry for trade goods are joined by spare bone tipped arrows, one of the extra well balanced wooden shields he made and dried elk meat.
Knowing where the tribes are herding right now makes this much safer. Its only an afternoon ski to those at Hanging Wide.
At the village is the survivor of a wolf attack. Those had been worrying Calle for with what he saw in the south. The attack took place in a coniferous forest just north of heathland. With his bear furs, warmth layers, looking helm, oak shield, the river sword and Truth Cutter this task seems appointed to him.
No one can be spared as their hunter is patrolling in case the wolves come for their herd. Heading north west Calle comes across foreign traders on a mire. He signals that he has no furs to trade though the camp at Hanging Wide does. Thanking him the traders head that way. Outside the planned search area Calle raised s temporary shelter to sleep in.
Searching is problematical as there is only faint moonlight coming through clouds. The first sweep doesn’t find the trail While there is still good light Calle prepares for the possibility of injury. At a nearby lake it erects a shelter, lines it with extra spruce and with guard traps for alarms makes it a defended shelter. A fallen tree is rolled over then split into stump blocks and firewood. Trail markers pointing to the shelter are set in the 3-3 or 1-1-1-3 patterns pointing to safety. He sets a particularily large fire this night to scare off any wolf prowling nearby.
As he scouts a shape bolts out of snow burrow beside him. Fear instincts lash our with the river sword. Its rippling blade of steel and iron cleave the beast in two. Looking at the remains it was little bigger than his foreman. An ermine whose belt is ruined for trade. Sad laughter burbles from Calle. Well carrying the fresh meat may gain the attention of the wolf.
From behind spruce a snapping growl affirms the plan has worked! Heart pounds with the oncoming battle. Calle spins to put himself into a curve of thick spruce. Looping the ski stick to hang on his back the oaken shield comes down in its place. Moments of no sounds. Calle creeps around the spruce to see the young wolf. To his surprise it is limping from a serious cut in its left shoulder. The survivor had made account of himself!
Snarling the wolf limps off. Calle choses to switch to using a bow. That preparation lets it get out of sight. Starting the track Calle reminds himself to make a marker. He lays out branches with 3 in the center and 1 in each of the four compass directions. That will stand out if he has to find this meeting spot again. The survivor’s camp must be nearby. Calle is frustrated in the tracking in the spruce. Even the wounded wolf is able to keep its distance. Turning around and around the survivor’s camp is found. He is worried though that the crippled young wolf may have to target easier prey like the village children.
More searching in the limited daylight. Deciding that if he can’t catch it then to reduce the risk by feeding it. The ermine’s meat is laid out at the survivor’s shelter as an offering to make peace between man and wolf. Calle return’s mans belongings and tells the villagers of the wounded young wolf. Feelings are mixed that it is still out there wounded but none of them are willing to search.
<CALLE 092 Wounded wolf quest>>>
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Carrying on to the next Owl tribe camp a traveller named Doaivvot is willing to assist Calle. For payment Calle hands over the balanced wood shield he made.
“Clever to arm those who are with you,” said Doaivvot.
Proud smiling Calle spoke, “Preparation is all it takes to live.”
A hunter came up, “Is that Calle the Reemi of Swan Cabin?”
“I am he.”
“Doaivu is my name,” he said, “Much is said of your hunting and generosity. May I join your team a while?”
“You may,” Calle said, “Though the main plan right now is building a smoke house. As a son of Reemi carpenter there are things I can show you.”
Doaivu patted a hand over heart, “That to is good. We Owl live in tents of tarps and poles. I have seen the steads of the Kuamo. It intrigues me to see how they work such big wood logs.”
Agreed the party of now three made slept here then in morning made for Swan Cabin. Acting as lead building Calle showed them the smokehouse start. He explained the choice of stronger spruce for the footing logs. Pine was being used higher up. He would show them where to make start cuts with Calle making the final fittings.
“Doaivu here is my traveling canteen,” Calle said offering it toward payment.
“I’m Doaivvot,” the man laughed, “That’s Doaivu. The sage was drunk the night they named me. Two with almost the same name in the same has been a game ever since.”
The real Doaivu stood up, “Thank you Calle. This will be good when the ice is frozen. As the wooden tub you gave me for winter tanning.”
Chuckling Calle was glad to have company at Swan Cabin again. Heavy work was good work. The two Owl tribesmen worked with sincere interest in a craft outside of the lifestyle of those that travel in tents. When they rested at night they traded stories of hunting. Calle took out the figurines to act out the elk that became a bear. Everyone smiled with Calle smiling the widest.
“Over here is the Hot Room,” Calle showed them the second room, “ With chinking in the logs it really traps the steam. There is leather sealing the shutters when they are closed. It holds steam and smoke in tight. We will do the same thing at the smokehouse. Having ways for airflow is good for when you do a cleaning. You can have a sauna tonight.”
Daoivu and Doaivvot congratulated each other on the decision to work for Calle of Swan Cabin.
On the morning they were to leave Calle took them to see the pit fence lines. Another style of hunting not often done by the migrating Owl.
“You have a broken pit,” Doaivu pointed out, “That’s why you have to check them every few days. To fix them?”
“Yes, strange distrubances might break…” Calle stopped.
A mass of brown fur was visible through the tumbled spruce. Calle drew his sword in case this was a bear. The others drew there weapons. They crept up.
Its an elk!
It had already breathed it last on who knows what day. Frost had set in deep. The three struggled to get the hide off. Felling axes were used to split off major portions of meat for transport.
Doaivu said, “Calle is a hunter, trapper and builder. You do your people credit”
Blushing Calle let out a fast breath, “Well a hunter when they blunder into me. Tracking I do too slow to catch up.”
Doaivvot laughed, “Doaivu has lost his share of game too!”
Smiling at this kin Doaivu added, “It is though on this sun we need to leave. Days are short we can’t stay longer.”
“Short days indeed,” replied Calle, “Good journey to you both. May we share stories again.”
Working on the elk took into the next day. With the companions gone Calle was alone when sky water touched him. Rain. A sign of the seasons changing soon. With this would be days of warmth and rain then days of freezing making crusts on the ice. In a few weeks the snow would be gone.
Eyes rolled in Calle’s head, “Then the ash turning begins. Ha! Then the iron shovel I made will be unleashed! Haha!”
Thud! Over and over the thud. Swan spirit had led the spring migration of birds to the cabin. Only half his time was going to finishing the smokehouse. Fortunately it was snowing again in the dry air of late winter. Those rains did mean that soon outdoor drying wouldn’t work. The smoke house was going to be needed.
Many days of the building routine came to Calle. The birds sent provided fresh meats for roasting with many dried elk in stock, more elk drying and plenty of grains in stores. It was energetic days for Calle. Soil month had started meaning the time of ash turning and planting. The snow blanket was thinning yet still enough to prevent such tasks. This gave an urgency to finishing the smoker. He would be needed at the next chores of threshing for seeds.
On day 6 of the 6th week before summer Early Soil month Calle looked about his homestead. Swan Cabin with its large efficient Lake Room. The Hot Room on the side as a sauna and hold out in battle. A work yard just west of that and the cellar south. A few nearby plots for spices and plants for their “medicinal use”. Two pit fences both proven up with captures and a few plots of fields. Now smoke curled up inside the smokehouse just north of the main cabin.
Calle drummed and sung a praise to the Swan spirit.
<CALLE 093 Smokehouse done>>>
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The small knife’s fine edge glided through the reindeer leather. It was from a catch seasons ago now. The last of the large pieces it had finally been selected. Having summer shirts and pants to change our form woolen winter ones the time had come for alternate foot wear. These were cut out as ovals, cupped up and a rectangle sewed on. A leather cord from the same material would catch the oval at the sided and back with the tongue at the front. This would be a pouch for each feet. Fine for summer grasses or the main use being as indoor footwear.
After that Calle took a skin. He felt joy seeing antlers poking up from a pit. This turned to sadness at the advanced decay. A challenge with warming weather. Calle pulled the body out onto the ice a safe distance away. A fire was started and added to. The body needed to be burnt well if other herbivores would trust the area. Calle also hoped when the ice melted it would remove the scent of the fire and bones. As his tradition Calle blows heather petals toward the flames as a sign of respect.
Winter’s blanket is preventing the ash turning. Trade goods are taken up and delayed projects. One of these is to make a second punt. When its done Calle takes it to the northern river system. There is a rapids he had found. He dismantles the old landing camp and sets one up here instead. Now he can even test the punt with fishing right now! This spot has adler trees which will be handy for their bark when the sap is running again.
Being homed at Swan Cabin the equipment, spreaders and weights to make that second punt is used to make a third. This may get traded or deployed remotely. That can be decided later.
Now comes a safe time of doing chores. Firewood is stocked in the smoke house. As the elk meat dries the cords used are taken to the smokehouse. A portable bench is added to stand on to reach the rafters. Cleverly a shutter window can let out threads of light when the fire is going to be seen from the open north doorway of Swan Cabin. Trade goods are dabbled in with different types from longbows to torches. Any particular village may have need of one thing but not others.
<CALLLE 094 Punts away>>>
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Late soil month with the snow still blocking agriculture work. Calle keeps busy using the solid lake ice to transport in pines for building Swan Cabin’s northwest section. The sled wagon had been wonderful to use on its skis.
Its also been pleasing to give a covered wide porch to the front. Two benches sit side by side next to the main, north, door of Swan Cabin. The south cellar door also gained a narrow porch to cut down on debris or rain getting through an open door.
A new inspiration has come to Calle for the north west. Rather than as a room it can be a courtyard. One with a well, an inner cellar, places for winter drying of meat and an overhang porch to protect the door. Even a seat to work on crafts with full daylight rather than what bounces in through shutters. This seems more useful than the original plan for two small rooms, one with a cellar and one with a well. If they get a dog or a child its a small play area though the well would need a safety cover.
Day 1 of the last week before summer season, Early Swidden month
Thigh deep snow with heavy rains after an early sunset. A damp wet day outside. Its still frosty ground not capable of digging for the fields nor digging in the courtyard. Cabin fever starts to sit in feeling the forced confines of a great energy driving to work with the world being overpowering against that. Calle’s name means freedom. He needs freedom.
“There is way!” Calle yelps jumping off the ground.
Bringing a dried quarter log being shaved into a bow he open the door to the northwest courtyard. He steps under the porch. Crouching down cross legged to sit the log is put on the bench. He can work outside under the porch!
“Can you see me Swan!” Calle bellowed, “You make nests. Calle makes cabins! Here I am like one of your chicks in the nest in the rain doing what I do. Ha hahaha.”
<CALLE 095 Swan Cabin’s courtyard>>>
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Slush season of Swidden month continues. Another four longbows have been made. Feeling restless Calle heads to the landing camp at Kirri’s Rapids. Unburdened by a punt its a relaxing ski. There he paddles the second punt to the water. Having forgotten bait he sets turnip on the hook. To his amazement this works! He comes home with four fresh perch!
<CALLE 096 Still winter perch>>>
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Dwindling away the blanket of snow was still enough to block farm work. The lakes were starting to slush making them unsafe for skiing on. Skiis still worked over land on that annoying remnant snow. Stuck like this Calle chopped firewood where the new fields would go, crafted gaming sets for his use and trade then towed over the snow the third punt. He took it to the south river network.
At the Dreamwood lake he decided to move the shelter away from the water edge up slope. He might not be here is the waters rose or a storm blew it over toward the water. Stones and rocks were gathered to make a hard raised bed with drainage. This would be the long term storage of the punt, upside down under the shelter’s spruce with the stone raising to reduce the risk of rot. Extra spruce was lain on the side and top.
“Wonder if someone will make their home here,” asked Calle.
It sure would be a dry spot. Great for an animal to use as a cave for their burrow.
The punt here, like the one on the north side, meant when going trading he could carry more goods between Swan Cabin and the waters. Otherwise he would have to portage the punt each way as he did last year over and over. Trail markers were set with the 3-3 pattern to point Calle back to the stowage shelter.
<CALLE 097 South punt house>>>
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Day 6 of the 13th week before midsummer
Stretching arms reach for the curves in the log wall. With a solid yank Calle pulled himself from the layers of sleeping furs. His muscular arms enjoyed the alternate position from yesterday’s preparing firewood out on the icy fields. As his tongue brushes across teeth to pull out roasted meat. A great inhale to invigorate the body. Eyes look to the north shutter that looks out blotches of green and white.
Calle slaps his feet onto the floor running to the shutter’s window. Its melted! Its finally melted!
“Preparation is all it takes to live,” Calle repeated as he took the time wipe the skis of their last moisture before sliding them under the bed platform. There service for the season has ended. Proper storage would have them ready for the next snows.
He gathered up his seed stocks. These were packed in amphora and birch-bark containers. Food stocks were separate. On this day he didn’t need to sort or count. Preparation had them ready for this day. Bundled up he slogged the different types to the fields north west of Swan Cabin. Seed stock included peas, broad beans, rye, sorrel, hemp, turnip, barley and flax.
Going into pocket fields today were broad beans, considered one of the best crops, and hemp, for protein rich flour and its structural strength. Perimeter traps from the fall were reset and baited. Once again they stood guard. Animals that would come to feed on the small seeds could become portions of meat for the dinner table.
Shearing turf parts like flesh under a knife to the iron headed shovel. The hands of Calle that forged it are the ones to wield it. With wooden shovels the end is a thick as the wood needs for strength. With iron its thin with a slope ground to slice far better than push the earth. Bits of ground resist where the cut goes beyond the fire warmed layers. Turning and swirling takes far less energy. Calle figures he is turning over planting spots more than twice as fast.
His plan calls for making the new spots on the inside of J pit trap fence. Then an animal drawn to one set of crops may wander to visit the other. Taking the paths left by the fences is a drop into a pit! Light deadfalls and loop snares will come later in to deal with small raiders like hares and birds.
To avoid the risk of forest fire each ash burn is a small fire. Each time one is lit it is several paces from any other fire. Combined their updrafts might draw sparking ash high enough to land on fuel spots on the trees. As they form it creates a spotted pattern like a speckled bird chest. Only once these cools can the seeds safely go in.
Seeding now becomes a mix of the types he has to plant. Calle can watch how the plants grow in Linenfell. Like a hunter studying animal habits a farmer studies the habits of plants.
Preparations for planting the seeds are improved by making wooden cup sized containers with scrap furs tied over the top. These will hold the seeds currently being planted. This will leave the food stocks in the cabin and bulk seed reserve in the cellar.
Calle checks the seeding cups to review his planting stocks:
Broad beans
Hemp
Peas
Barley
Rye
Flax
Sorrel
Turnip
That’s eight types of crops!
“Preparation is all it takes to live,” shouts Calle.
<CALLE 098 Planting begins>>>
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Calle reached down to stuff seeds into cooled turned over muddy earth rich with the flakes of ash and charcoal of the small fires. This is the way. What he understood was the spirits made the plants at the beginning of things. The trees were big plants that stored nutrition. It wasn’t the sort a person could it. By making the ash and turning it was food for new plants. Plants that could be chosen by a person.
Making the fires, shoveling soil, mixing mud and ash then resting was a massive amount of labor. Roast elk, turnips and the odd hard tack gave Calle the energy to do all this. Already two weeks of this had taking the time into Seedtime month. The time of planting. The time of plating indeed!
Calle put down kindling branches and a piece of firewood. Once more striking for sparks sharp iron on flaking stone. Another mystery to him is how the stones came to be. The iron though, he had seen the basics and managed his first few iron tools. The shovel was one being hurled at the task of ash turning.
Fire accidents had happened! Three trees and one of the fence gates had taken sparks. Even organizing to keep ash fires spread out was no guarantee.
Calle wiped his sweaty brow. Nearby fires warmed him and his leathers. The fur layers for winter and fighting were at the cabin. It rained though. He chose to wear the traded for linen undershirt and trousers as a comfort layer with a layer leather. That leather mostly for shedding rain or on the legs for taking the scrapes of bushes, rocks and the heat of fires. One of the nettle cloaks was bundled onto the backpack in an upside down U. He planned to use it if he did get cold or too wet. Often he would just stagger exhausted back to Swan Cabin to sleep under the swaying Swan figure. Letting the spirit see him work and rest felt loving.
With flailing arms Calle tried swimming now and then. He was miserable at it. Its something he never did amid working carpentry and spying on the blacksmith. Nor had his fight training touched on it. Now he could paddle quite well. Swimming tempted the water spirits. One day he hoped to be in mutual respect with them. For now he flailed like a foolish bird with one foot in a snare!
Three weeks in Calle shuddered. The forest under a half moon felt like it was stalking him. An anger behind the trunks looking out but never quite seen. Calle took a deep breath. Holding up heather petals in an upright palm he waited until the wind chose to take them. In all the work he had fallen away on rituals of peace. Many trees had been felled.
Ah!
There was one day when to clear a section it was easier to burn down a half dozen trees. That may be what angered the spirits. Birds weren’t being tanned all the time either. So much work to do on the fields.
A thud with a cry of pain. Calle walked that way. A black gray Luikka was thrashing in a trap. There song’s were beautiful. Calle thought of luikka as a friend to the Swan spirit. For that friendship with hopes to calm the wood he let the luikka go.
On return to Swan Cabin a thought was with him again. Taking a break from the burning, ash turning and planting that had led him to be in anger with the spirits. A trip with the trade goods is possible. This would be easier as with whatever river set he picked their was a punt ready for him. Recent trips had been to the Owl in the north east and Kuamo on the north river. Then it would be time for the Kuamo on the south river. First a rest and ready.
Under moonlight of the half moon by Swan Cabin and the lake he blew heather petals in the wind too the Swan Spirit. Like a lover not spoken too he had been too busy for too long. It was time to be among the spirit and people again. In the silvery landscape he hiked with bows and other goods to the south punt camp. Lifting the spruce mat and brushing bits away gave him that third punt and its paddle.
Down the rivers a few hours then landing to make for a stead. This route revealed the site of another stead. He approached this new one at Sheephead.
“Nice name,” Calle said, “Wonder if they have wool.”
Old Olesa and young Aune watched him search the trade goods. Calle picked up a spool of nettle yarn. Always useful for crafting and traps while with enough might make clothing.
“Well what do you have to offer us,” the old man Olesa asked.
The young girl Aune peeped up around behind, “Anything fun?”
Calle reached in to his bundle to pull out one of the game sets, “A board game. Here with its sets of pieces.”
Aune was quick to run up to look at it. Olesa scrunched his lips.
Calle looked to the elder of the two, “Well a board game is something you play… sitting down.”
Olesa smiled then. He accepted that for trade after all. In the days ahead he could get Aune to sit down for a change!
Coming out of the hall was a hunter. He gestured to the small knife on Calle’s belt, the one he had forged. This the hunter would trade for knowledge of a ritual. It was agreed.
The tale was a bit odd to Calle. That loops for birds and hares be left on an ant’s nest for three days then picked up and set to catch. Calle had seen ant hills now and then. The planning ahead of the three days seemed problematic to his travels. Still it was a teaching. Some day it might matter.
<CALLE 099 Loops on ant hills>>>
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Trading away bowls and bows Calle collected a squirrel fire and a beaver fur. These he hoped would make their way to foreign traders with their armors. Then a hike to homestead of Gorge Trail where more bows where traded for a wolf fur.
Shortly past the sun’s highest path Calle was back at the punt shelter. In the winter bizzards the distance to people seemed immense. With the rivers flowing it was a quarter day each way. A nice change of pace form the ash turning. Islands had been scouted just to know the lay of their land. Plants were popping up in spring. Strolling to Swan Cabin and up to the bunk he added a squirrel, beaver and wolf fur to the piles.
As prepared to go back to agriculture he noticed the paddle in his pack.
“Darned silly lad,” accused Calle of himself.
He meant to leave the paddles near the punts so he could use the punts. Taking the paddles was a way to stop a thief getting very far though of course if they really needed to they’d find a way.
Heading back through the woods south a rustling of spruce gave way to game. A reindeer herd. Calle fired a broadhead which cut a leg but yet in all that spruce and jumbled herd trails he couldn’t pick out just one. At the punt camp a hare was near enough for a shot though a miss. Calle took the game presence though as a sign of peace. The cycle of life was around him again. The offerings and trip had helped restore peace between his heart and the spirit world.
Calle’s heart stirred his memory of his traps. There was good chances with animals on the move, like the reindeer herd, they would come to him by the traps. This was true as a lynx was caught at a fields predator deadfall.
Calle gave the lynx a blow with the flat of the river sword. Its twirling body paw swiped at Calle! It wasn’t fully pinned. Calle eyes were wide as his legs thrust him back.
“All right,” Calle unhooked his round shield, “A fight then.”
Raising river sword’s crossguard before his face he let it drop to his side, twirl the wrist with the blade spinning half behind to come up high in a guard alongside the shield. A quick exchange with the boldness of a shield has the lynx trying to flee. Blows stun it then the pommel strike cracks the skull.
While preparing the game Calle planted seeds in prepared ash turns that had cooled. A stench lingers. Looking over the source may explain the spirit’s anger. An unused bird carcass was added to a trap as bait. Its body worm wriggling still lingers. It had been found too late in a trap for use. At the time Calle thought adding it to a predator trap would draw game. Maybe it had lured that lynx in to be caught at the other trap. This animal though wasn’t properly honored. Calle took the time to set bird in the center of a new field. Stack it with kindling and firewoods then as the fire was started added a block stump for a tall funeral pyre. Into the smoke he released heather petals.
While at Swan Cabin preparing the hides and roasting meat the luikka birds sing to Calle. A happiness that he has now twice released them from his traps. A flutter over his head startled him as through the open door a goldeneye bird swished around. His place and life were so attuned with nature they actually flew into his home!
A third luikka is released though sadly a fourth is put down. It is found unconscious in the trap with a misshapen torso of thrusting rib shards. Calle put that one down with respectful players as it is skinned and butchered. If slain it would be worse to waste the bounty given from its life.
Day 4 of the 9th week to missummer
Calle had now drained a fourth seeding cup. A new planing circle has been ashed with the inner core now waiting to cool considering all things Calle felt he had done enough. It was still mid seeding month. His life had many aspects to it. That included needing to go ore hunting to make a new knife to replace giving to the hunter for the loop magic. As if he needed to catch even more birds!
After time away he could in the later spring or early summer set another field patch. Turnips and perhaps sorrel could be sewn in time to harvest. Turnips are such a fast grower and sorrel never starts early.
Storing the seeding tools Calle rekitted to go hunting in the bogs and lakes for iron bearing lumps.
<CALLE 100 switch to iron>>>
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Ore hunting began. First a day of scouting on land again. Though there were mountains, hills and cliffs they didn’t have bogs right next to them. This would need to be a hunt in the lake where all the run off eventually flowed. Traders were spotted but when Calle gathered his furs he couldn’t find them. They must have been in transit then.
Along the south side of lake a cliff rose up sharp. At the nearest bank Calle tapped with the long pole, sesta, to find hard things. The dip net pulled up rocks, tree parts and at times the oddly formed lumps that contained the iron he sought.
A forgotten teaching came to Calle. Collecting a portion of the nettles he had set aside for retting he too the grain-flail too them. The wooden handle flicked by leather smashed a second wood section down again and again. Tiny seeds popped out of their shells. Now he had a ninth crop to plant. That would need more ash turning.
Scowling shadows looked from the trees. A second and third bird suffered a long time decaying in traps. Calle burned them with heather offerings hoping to bring peace. More burnings and ash turning might be making the forest wary of the rate of change. Villages would slash and burn swaths but they had elders and shamans with them. Calle was having to understand this on his own. Kuikka hopefully was pleased with being freed but maybe it was angry about being trapped. The swan spirit hadn’t shown herself in some time. This also troubled Calle. One day he might go look for her.
To break up his tasks he took to working the iron he had gathered so far. It was good to be back at the outdoor workshop. It also reminded him with the warm weather he could gather clay to shape. Fires in the forge glowed from charcoal blown super hot by the leather bellows. Pounding with stone and iron hammers shaped the work across the anvil stone. Into the graying evening Calle held up a small knife. It was a good blade though wasn’t as fine as the one that went to the teaching hunter. It was a good tool for small work and easy to carry. Later he might try again keeping the better for himself to use the others in trade.
“Scunch the others but nettle is your friend,” grandmother said, “bend, pull, twist and then to the spindle nettle goes.”
Calle put the image of grandmother in his mind. She wasn’t talking to Calle but to one of the village girls. Teaching her to make nettle yarn. Calle was trying his best to do what he hadn’t paid attention too. Just what was the pull? Bend the stalk open then pull the fibers? Twist it how? Strong thick fingers squeezed the nettle fibers. Spinning it around a spindle he struggled with consistency. Bigger, thinner, notched and smooth all on the same yarn.
With a deep breath Calle took a look at the result. Far from the quality of his grandmother or the traded yarns it was nettle yarn. Rough and crude would work for traps or fences. What this meant to him now was being able to use his rough yarns for construction. Fences had done up with lots of split spruce. Loop snares were made with trade hemp and nettle lines that could have gone into clothing. In time he’d get better. For now he just looked at the spindle with its jagged threads missing his grandmother.
Her bright smile among a wrinkle tanned face under her grayed hair tied under a nettle thread cloth she had made. The scent of spiced breads flushed his nose from the memory.
Shaking from thoughts Calle walked to the beach. Putting a hand in the water what he knew it was too cold for retting. Nettle he cold extract manually. Strolling in thoughts of his family and how the female side dealt with this he plucked up stray feathers. Happily two of them were from Swan. She hadn’t been seen a while. It was like these were a keepsake while she was traveling just as Calle did on his visits to villages.
He tied those swan feathers to the stop fence by the water. This fence was at the end of the upright branches that made a handrail for use in whiteout blizzards to find his way between lake and cabin. The stop fence was from his skiing too fast that one time. This would literally trip him and stop him in time to face plant onto the shore before the ice. Shivers went through him the one time he decided to walk across melting ice to the pennisula and had gone through.
“Preparation is all it takes to live,” repeated Calle.
Back to the cabin Calle kept his heart on his family espically the grandmother as he clamly worked at the nettles. Rubbing the stalks with a stone to bend them, pulling away the outer to access the fibres then reverse twisting. Two small strands twisted one way while the strands were reverse spun around each other to lock them in. Hung by the spindle there was a weight that acted like a third hand to keep the tension. Humming like his grandmother Calle made a much longer yarn with a consistent shape. Now he could when needed make the threads he used in crafting.
Calle smiled, “Thank you grandmother,” feeling that her spirit had been with him here at Swan Cabin.
(note: Ive been saying Luikka a lot but the game name is Kuikka. Guess Im blurring how we Canadians call them Loons.)
<CALLE 101 nettle thread>>>
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A happiness flowed in Calle’s heart like a river to a calm lake. From his memory of his grandfather he was now in harmony with memories of the village smith. Staying in that harmony Calle had brought to be another small knife with a good smooth clean edge with even wrinkles on the flat back to brace the thumb while whittling. Following the guidance to make your tools first Calle had been heating and pounding on a large mass of roasted blooms to bring them to shape, squashing on the smoothest part of the anvil stone then while hot refining with a whetstone. Finally he worked in a handle with good straight grain to make a well smoothed flat iron hammer with none of the bubbling of the first one. This tool would carry him onward farther.
Next Calle tried held the a wedge of iron in one hand with pinches of charcoal in the other. The balance needed to be slight but present like one part in a hundred. On heating the wedge of iron Calle pounded it out thin and wide. The carbon was dusted on like a gentle snowfall. Bending the iron flat onto itself trapped the charcoal inside. He pounded it into a pastry roll. Heating again he flattened it down, bent it in the other way and repeated this. This continued until it was mixed like a delicate after dinner sweet. As its bright glow cooled to a hue the smith had waited for Calle stuck it into the water. Steam hissed. Pulling the shape out Calle studied it by looks and tapping it lightly. This had been transformed from iron to steel.
After those days Calle took a hike looking for a source of iron. The lake was there though the search was time consuming. The drainage to it was slow making that source slow to replenish.
To the south west at the tip of the lake end of south river system he found it. A cliff joined by a bog. How this worked to Calle was limited to the knowing that it took a cliff with iron bearing rocks, rain, the flow to a bog and somehow the bog slicked the iron together. Oily slicks gave a seeing clue to dig for a muck of bog ore. Just such a combination of cliff to bog was found. This he would learned was had a name from the ancestors of “Iron Corner”. After depletion such places refill with ores after a time, perhaps half to a full generation.
Strong hands tilted the iron headed shovel to hoist out of the muck just such a bog ore. Calle smiled. This was close enough to Swan Cabin to come, dig and return in the same day.
Checking close by Calle laughed. This place grew heather, he used in rituals, nettles for yarns and even better wild raspberries!
Knowing he would be here often Calle took the time to locate a near complete close wall of trees, build a shelter, set guard traps, add a spruce floor mat, spruce sides, lay markers to the shelter and a marker for one of the pools of water to drink from. Stocking up on foods; dried elk, nettle leaves and turnips; from Swan Cabin would let the spirits and Calle have a break from the strain of the ash turning.
Over half a week was spent bogging at work camp. A truly well named place. No one had harvested there for a long time. Returning the load to Swan Cabin’s smithy his collected ores now weighed over a hundred pounds. That of course was a lot of muck around the iron. It was a great amount to work up kit with.
<CALLE 102 Iron corner>>>
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Calm days now mixing trades. Roasting ore and getting a bit more. Adding small amounts to the fields… and burning down trees and a section of fence!
“That was careless!” said Calle.
He pulled away the rest of the fences on both sides. The fire spirit had leapt to find its pleasure. It had no where to go now. Two trees were lost. Troubled at the lost Calle consoled himself with turning their ash into the new fields.
Stocks of reserve dried elk Calle counted his stacks at one hundred left. That’s still a month of half or more of food. It is however a good time to keep an eye out for big game.
From the lonely mountain outcrop on the south west of lake an elk cow was seen to the east. Contacted wasn’t established. It was good to see the game was around.
Day 7 of the 7th week before midsummer
Another sighting of traders, passing the forests north of the lake passing close to the cabin. Calle gathers up the trade furs and heads out.
With signs of peace are made with open hands.
Calle mutters through, “Trade furs, show goods, two blankets.”
The traders agreed. One put down his cloak as a trade blanket. Calle mirrored with his own woven nettle cloak.
Calle became surprised that there various goods didn’t interest him. There was a mail cowl though he could trust to the spectacle helm, damaged as it is. A crossbow was offered though with no experience in it Calle doubt it being productive in hunting and a liability in combat. Fine broad head arrows were offered to which Calle pulled from his quiver their equals he had crafted. As always there was a huge mail harberk for the torso that is well beyond the furs Calle had to trade.
Puttering for a few hours Calle felt the desire to be among people. Trade goods were minimal with a few bone tipped arrows, light crafts and a decently made gaming set. He chose to go to the north east Owl villages.
Having explored the lands a few times he had first reached them by boat. This time he hoped to use his increasing knowledge to travel by land. Cold as it was Calle crossed at a ford. Now on their side of the water it was growing dark as he neared the village. Ahead a shape in the distance was moving that had to be very large… and it had wide antlers! A bull elk! A stag!
Calle’s heart filled with joy. It was a challenge so needed after the month of ash turning. Instead of snorts of fine ash dust in his nose he inhaled the scent of the wilds.
Shifting to where he last saw it he began thinking like the elk. A few minutes later he had the tracks. A few minutes more they were within bow shot amid the large pools of the mire. A self made fine broadhead arrows lashed out from his best trade bow. It caught a leg and a bleeding wound.
Closing at run Calle was ready for it collapse when it started to run off. Lots of blood was pooling on the mire. Compared to the great beast it was only a weakening. He closed again and it moved off. The next time he started shooting. A broadhead over its back, one under its legs and other arrows until one more connects. As the bull elk sways off Calle took from his tinder pouch a few of the sticks setting three of them down in a supporting triangle. This to be a marker from where to hunt for the missed arrows.
Blood pools and its slow speed left the elk easy to track now. It finally fell over on one side with a soft baying moan. Approaching careful, for it was a great beast, Calle skulled it to dispatch it while he slept. Quickly now came the work. With his replacement small knife he made a shallow careful cut from chest plate to circle the butt. The digestive track as a whole be spilled out and was pushed across the mire. None of the meat would be spoiled and the cooling began. His hunting knife joined in for the removal of the hide.
Calle blew heather petals toward the fallen elks nose. A gift of thanks for its life joining the circle.
A few first cuts where removed to cook by a small smoky fire while Calle had to give into sleep.
In the morning we awoke undisturbed. Animals are naturally afraid of fire. That fire had been hoped to add confusion to the scent if any big animals had been around. A search found three of the stray arrows, a decent recovery.
Calle patted the bloody skinless shoulder of the beast. Now came the quartering of meat and edible organs for transport. With an Owl village in sight this meat would feed them mightily. Three hours it took with the sun already passed noon. Though slow in his pace Calle was a broad shouldered man. The hide containing all the meat was hoisted high with the large bones and magnificent antlers tied to the outside.
So bundled Calle trudged across the mire to Hanging Wide.
Ahkejuoksa was on sentry. He gave signs of peace with open hands, “Greetings hunter. A worker saw your fire. We wondered what was going on. Elder Hiege says if you brought us game to send you to him. Let me help you with the stacks.”
“Grateful,” said Calle rolling the bundle that weighed as much as large man off his back.
Elder Hiege was nearby leaning his back on a tall tree, “The forest has sung to that the time has come.”
“Time?” asked Calle, “Chores to be done?”
Hiege patted the ground in front of him as he slid down to sit at the base of the tree.
Looking to the bundle Calle saw a young woman came to hold up cuts of meat to be seen by a grandmother at one of the tents. They were already planning their feast.
Hiege began, “There was a time when man and spirit where in one real world together. Where we are is separate from them. They are not easy to see when they come here to this unreal world. There are those who learn to live in harmony with the ways. Oh they may get angry but when you know the way you make peace with them again, as you have. This is the way.”
“We aren’t the only lives out here,” said Calle, “I found my home because of a Swan spirit. She has visited me many times as a welcome guest though perhaps I am her guest.”
Hiege took a sip from his water skin. The water seemed scented.
“Young Calle,” Hiege was speaking softly now, “The spirits have their head men too. Their rulers. Their kings though their ways aren’t our ways that is a word that can be used.”
Halle nodded listening quietly to the elder’s wisdom.
“Rulers are busy eve spirit rulers,” continued Hiege, “Only some are worthy to met them. They might let you be in their court. Their court is the forest in which they stand. Any part of it can be should they chose to come. For a hunter or a homesteader it is a way to know how the spirits feel about you and make peace if needed.”
Calle listened, “If its the Swan spirit or this ruler she answers too then yes. I would like too. To tell them how kind she is and thank her for her protection. Her friend the Kuikka has been by several times but she hasn’t been seen in a while. Is she all right?”
Her fate isn’t known to me, “Hiege said. My ties are to the ruler of the forests are herd are in.”
“There are different rulers?” asked Calle.
“Of course. Just as we have different tribes in different lands the spirits of different rulers of different places. I’ve heard of only a few and met only one. Now to meet them you must do a certain thing in a certain way, a gleam of silver on an ant hill for as they travel between the above and below they can travel to the spirit realm with your gift of moon like gleam. Do this in deep night that the sun is farthest away so its light doesn’t hide them.”
“They want silver because it looks like moon light?” asked Calle.
“That is how it was told to me when I was young,” said Heige, “Now then they want to start the feast. Go make a trade with that fresh game you brought us.”
“Thank you elder,” said Calle, “As a sign of respect please take the elk hide.”
Calle was convinced to give up half the meat for a smooth coated winter fox fur. This was the sort of goods the foreign traders loved. He might need it to get silver. For the rest Calle thought it best to return the meat to Swan Cabin to try out his smoke house. If he tried for the village of Quarrel Forrest it or the hide might spoil before he started on it.
He made it back that second day out.
“Preparation is all it takes to live,” Calle said entering the smokehouse.
It had room to walk about for the meats of different animals to sort out when each was ready. He closed the shutters on the north and south for those were for airing when now it was to be filled. Stocks of fuel were ready from small kindling, bundles of scrap from logging, flawed boards and stump blocks. On wall pegs hung dozens of split spruce for tying up the meat. The bench was beckoning to be stood on to hang the meat high up from the rafters where the smoke was thickest.
Working the meat to thin cuts exposed more surface for faster penetration of the smoke. He remembered another youngster making the mistake of starting the smokey fire first that blinded him while hanging the meat. Calle made sure to hang the cuts first then start the fire. The chimney block stones were shifted inward forcing most of the smoke to find its way into the room.
In the morning the fire was restarted to make more smoke before Calle resumed his journey.
(I thought Calle had skinned the elk first but couldn’t find the hide. Gifting seemed a way to explain its lack. Sometimes as I write and play I may have written it but not hit the keystrokes in the game.)
<CALLE 103 meeting learned>>>
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It was a long but still one day hike to Badmire. Their Doaivu and Doaivvot greeted him. It was good to be among familiar faces. A cousin Eaddji had joined their camp. They told stories all night long. They two were glad to hear that Swan Cabin was doing well with a sauna, courtyard and detached smokehouse. Trade was simply a spool of nettle yarn for a bone tipped arrow. Likely a generous offering from Calle. It was in part a gesture for their hospitality.
Next morning Calle still didn’t feel like returning to the Swan Cabin. A part of him wondered into worry that Swan was in trouble or held back by him needing to meet the ruler of the forest. Food on hand was good though he was without is full furs and battle gear. It was a hot summer day. This would be good time to explore even more north, maybe to another Owl village or the coast.
On this walk Calle spotted a distant herd of reindeer on a mire. Moving in he got to within range. He counted seven adults and one young. This was a mire good for tracking not the spruce woods he lost game in.
<CALLE 104 reindeer herd>>>
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Broadhead flying fast skimmed the leg of one of the reindeer. It tipped off on impact skipped by a bone. Its bleat alarmed the herd. A bone head arrow flung out missed to rustle into the spruce. The reindeer darted into the spruce.
Calle recovered the broadhead with not seeing the bonehead. He let the herd shift around. With the young they weren’t going to run far at speed. His hope was to locate the leg wounded one and focus on that. He even took the time to eat a dried cut, turnips and nettle.
Searching in spruce frustrated Calle so much. Even if he did get a sighting the chances of deflection was very high. With the herd you can track the herd but the herd keeps hearing you and moving. It was the leg wound he hoped would be slow enough to catch. Calle was also angry at himself. He hadn’t dropped the three sticks as a marker where he fired. He’d never see that arrow again.
If it wasn’t right there dangling in a spruce!
Calle laughed hard holding his stomach.
<CALLE 105 found arrow>>>
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This spruce forest hunting was madness. He caught sight of them again trailed and gave up. Going to a hill top he looked around. Couldn’t see them yet when he came back to their trail he soon saw them. A bone tipped arrow gut wounded a doe leaving a trail of blood. Briefly it bleed before it made off. That’s two of the herd wounded now. Would the forest spirit be pleased or angry with Calle?
A lone doe was seen on heathland. Being out of the spruce Calle had hopes. He ran and walked in alternation. The reindeer seemed to tire but it was still evading him. When he lost sight of it then it could rest.
From a hill top to try locating again Calle spotted a figure. Approaching it was a member of the Owl tribe.
“I’ve been tracking that herd for a week,” he said.
“They are all yours,” Calle replied, “Wounded two but still the forest shrouds them.”
“They are truly beloved,” the man said, “But you give me hope to catch them yet. It is my quest. To follow that herd, no matter how far.”
Calle and him waved as the man continued the hunt of the moving herd. Calle went father north to a lake whose name would become known as Whitemire. There he built a shelter for the night. He would now have to return to add more fire to the smokehouse. In the morning he traveled into the evening yet still not back. He was now worrying about the smokehouse. A shelter at Tarwide was near giving a place for Calle to shelter. A preparation made in long ago for just such a chance need.
It was only an hour or two from there to Swan Cabin. Perhaps if he had pushed but that can be dangerous in woods. At the smokehouse the meats hadn’t spoiled though certainly the smoke had thinned. A full stump block was set into the stove works and started with kindling. Two birds had been caught in nearby traps. Coming home to fresh meat pleased Calle. He made sure to make a sacrifice of heather petals to the spirits for his safety on the long trip.
“Spirit,” Calle called out, “Swan, Kuikka and the ruler. I am the thankful Calle of the Reemi to the south. My First Winter challenge was won. The trip to follow led me where the Swan showed herself. My ways are what I brought with me. I am learning yours. There are many who live in the forest. Let us know peace, health and travel the circle of life together. Thank you for bringing me home. One day if you are kind that hunter chasing the herd could use your help that he might too return home as you have let me to do.”
Calle wondered a time if that hunter had been one of the spirits. There are tales of those who are on unending hunts. Impossible quests to follow the game. A lesson taught to remind hunters to break off to come home. Had that been such a one?
Calle then set to the chores. As well as those two there were two more birds at the field traps he kept. Kuikka the singer was again freed from a trap. None of the pit traps had a capture.
<CALLE 106 back at cabin>>>
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Calle went to the outdoor smithy. In front of him was the bloomery, forge, anvil and just there the kiln. The center of production for using heat to shape the world. To draw iron from the mucky lumps or turn wet clay into shape.
Hands on his hip he turned to the trap guarded cellar hidden amid the spruce, east to the sturdy walls of Swan Cabin with its three sections, north east to the smokehouse with trickles of smoke hiding so much more and over his shoulder to the fields to the north west.
Today heating iron was being given the shape of another stair step in tools, a ball headed hammer. Getting it round is difficult. Its purpose to add round shapes to other work. Where the stone anvil’s flat is the most used today it is the inconsistent portions that matter.
Heating, hammer, heating, adjusting take for hours. Hours that Calle can proceeds on with the confidence of both current and future food stocks in good order. The result still not final. Thinkingo f the breast of the Swan spirit he smoothed the metal with a whetstone. A previously crafted handle is taken from the tool stores of the cabin.
“Victory!” shouts Calle.
Over his head he holds the resulting tool. Its ball head curves as gracefully as the inspiring swan.
<CALLE 107 ball iron hammer>>>
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A few simple days followed. Working iron blooms into billets for later use, adding a few ash turns, accidentally burning down another few trees, offering heather in an apology, catching birds, releasing birds and planting a few late season sees like nettle and sorrel. Calle could see how in a second or third year the fields would be bountiful enough for a large family. For himself it would be a good balance to his hunter-trapper diet with the benefit of straws for weaving.
Strolling for pleasurable hunting at times he saw distant figures that likely were traders. Returning the cabin to gather the seventy pounds of trade furs, trudging back to the area he kept missing meeting them. On one such attempt he spotted a bear. Evening was coming on. Best not to sleep in the wilds near the bear. Calle returned to Swan Cabin, offloaded the trade furs and slept.
Come morning Calle dressed in full layers including the bear fur overcoat. This armoring was the best he had for a deliberate close battle with a bear. Adjusting the strap on the spectacle helm was needed to fit over the thicker padding now worn. It would be hot. Filling his canteen and skin both with cool water would help. At the smoke house a fresh load of wood was started to continue the smoke for a night or two he might be away.
First day gave no sightings from the near hills. Calle explored farther west looking across different mires. Swinging south he used the iron gathering work camp to shelter in the woods. His eyes leapt and he laughed as a grouse flopped into a guard trap he had just reset. While away to avoid unnecessary waste, with the anger that can come, these were left disarmed though in place.
“Fresh grouse is wonderful gift!” Calle said letting loose heather petals.
With his veteran hunting knife and small knife set preparing the bird was easy. As a prepared camp site there was already a fire ring of rocks with a large stone opposite. It made life easier to have the tall rock edging the smoke to that side. Dressed in all the armor furs he could have done without the reflected heat! The camp was well stocked with firewood and spruce bed to lay on.
Come morning he walked the way east to the Dreamwood punt shelter. In the spruce shelter turned over was the punt and a few mice. They were given a quick toss out. Spruce was used to sweep out their wastes for it is said that they use their fresh poop to tell other mice the place is safe. Still it wasn’t that anything bigger can along. There wasn’t signs of chewing on the punt. A little care and a small fire was made nearby to confound the scent.
Making the way north he saw the foreigners. Closing on them failed. Its one thing to see them a many bow shots away. Its another thing to find their camp especially when they might think you are a bear! Giggling Calle shambled with a waddle in his layers of cloth and fur under the bear overcoat.
His game had him turn around a pine to see a bear off to the north.
“Ha!” laughed Calle, “This time Im ready for a battle!”
With great care he measured the distance and patterns between pine and spruce. This guided him across the several bow shots of length. He saw the bear again to the side of his direction. He walked at a steadier pace.
Through the pines he gained on the bear. He guessed it to be a she bear with no cubs in sight. Several trees were in the way. Confident the bear was mulling about at berries. Calle slipped closer the bear moving near attracted to his shuffle.
Fly!
A self made broadhead cut into a fore leg’s shoulder. Howling her paw swiped at the wound snapping the arrow with the head still inside. Limping the bear turned this way and that in confusion. It must have seemed that Calle himself was a distorted bear in all the fur yet not quite nor a man with the spectacle helm and gear. Three more shots were fired with two hits. Thick is the nature of what makes bears good for armor. Her hide was truly thick. Each hit dropped off without burbling wounds.
On she came now. Her foe could lash at her from a distance. She had to strike him down.
Calle wrangled the bow away to bring up the shield. First and second blows fell on the shield as he worked a moment to get the river sword free. As he was trained Calle twisted about his leg, rolling the shoulder that side forward to lash out with the edge. It carved down and forward at the same time across the she-bear’s skull. She fell dazed. Calle thrust getting a light strike on a shoulder.
She rose again, rearing up on her hind legs. Her mass outweighed Calle as it slammed his shield. Twisting his arms took all his strength. She was without restraint making it hard to have the range for the sword. A thrust is made but she falls to the side dragging his shield side low making the sword go high.
Its enough for a cut that lashes her fore leg. She’s stumbling. For a moment she looks too the trees as if wanting to flee. Calle steps back with a debate to try the bow if she makes distance. She rolls her head to the left and right. Plodding steps bounce her toward Calle.
Calle catches the scent of his own blood. She smells it too! Looking to his upper left arm there is a shallow tear as she fell. She knows Calle can bleed and if it bleeds it can be killed as food. His worry is a moment of distraction she gains on him.
Once more oaken shield confounds bear with splashing river sword. Her courage had her readying to rear up when like a snake snapping the sword sung onto her chest. Dense fur and thick skin resist with only the energy left for a shallow cut. Horrendous roar of hate bellows upon Calle. Stunned by the painful noise his shield arms moves slow. Her blows are sloppy as her wounds make her limbs fail to respond as they should.
Calle pants. He is also tiring.
Its a mighty beast bearing many wounds still full of power. Calle is tiring. He slows the pace of his swings, she doesn’t.
Fear beats his heart like a woodpecker when tired leg skids on bloody grass. She wallops striking the ground his ankle was at. Stones fly pinging off the trees. Twisting and pushing with his shield Calle gets back up. He might yet die in this!
Fearing indeed the risk of falling he moves from the bloody spot between a pine and a spruce. She waddles with eyes of death and hunger. Stopping in this gate Calle times a swing to duck under the shield slashing across what would be a man’s waist. He cleaves across her unboned belly. Burbling blood splatters forth. She bleeds continuously from the many cuts of a slash through the intestines.
Calle steps back and she waddles bleeding. He steps back again and again into a clearing. She follows bleeding. Backing up Calle’s pant rush in air to feed his tiring body. She pauses too. Whatever breath she is catching is being lost to the blood blobbing out her belly. She licks her paw and squeezes her belly. A soft moan as matting hair is pushed into her wound. Around it the blood flow slows.
Lumbering forward dragging her hurt body Calle paces his energy chopping on her as she reaches step forward range. By the time of her paw swipe he already stepped back.
Patiently Calle backs up. She is dragging along the ground now. Sword to scabbard and shield to back. The bow is brought out. Before he can fire he backs up to regain distance. Now he can pelt her from a distance. A hit, a miss and broadhead to the belly leaks blood.
She lays. Calle breathes.
Calle breathes.
She rose up before.
Calle breathes.
She is still laying.
Calle takes a deep breath and stows the bow.
Eyes locked on her closed eyes for any glimmer of movement Calle advances sliding the clip pointed hunting knife from its sheath. A quick tug by his free hand to tighten the skin of the neck and thrust. Then he steps back.
Her breathing is faint. The blood still flows from her neck.
Circling facing her Calle lets her go calmly. Taking the time to gather the nearby arrows when she checks she has passed in her own time. Calle blows heather petals with the wind in thanks.
By hunting knife and small knife the guts are lets loose and skin removed. As her body cools Calle tends to his own wound. A wash with nettle mixed in then a bandage with heather mixed in. Pondering Calle wonders if perhaps the other way around would have been better.
Chuckling Calle sees the evidence of the sword cuts and stabs in the bear fur. It will be hard to craft with now.
An ant hill is nearby. Calle decides then to commensurate the battle with a shelter that he might come do the silver gift to the ants here, should he ever get silver. Trail markers are laid to point the shelter’s very hidden spot, to the ant hill and four stands of three branches to honor the bear’s final resting place.
Amid the places they fought is a pine tree standing in the bottom of hollow. It is well spaced with an easy walk between it and birch or it and other pines. It is here that Calle places the bear skull. Her tracks pass right by here already. Before leaving Calle added a stack of stones and rocks to her death place.
“How fitting,” Calle said.
Its now that he notices next to the stone cairn is a spirit mushroom. He’ll leave it for the bear. A part of him wonders is this was a trial or a test? How would the spirits see what was done here? How he hunted, how he fought, how he let her breath out quietly, followed the skull ritual and the honored her with other works.
It was still that evening when Calle returned to Swan Cabin. Smoke still lingered in the smoke house. Checking the texture Calle figured the elk meat had a week and a half to go. From the next set of rafters Calle went about hanging all the bear meat. With this stocks of food plenty to make it to the elk’s readiness all of it could be preserved. Again his bench was useful to stand on while tying the meat up high to be in the thicker smoke.
Working the hide would take more energy Calle had in the one night.
As he slept he dreamed of the Swan carrying him flying over a forest where at the circle of ground all the bears he honored danced on their hind legs as Kuikka sang.
Kuikka sang in the bird language with her chortling cry. Calle didn’t understand it but the bears new the tune. They shuffled around in a circle, the circle of life.
Come morning contentment led Calle to go back to chores with more smoke for the smokehouse. Tending his wound he remembered to do heather first for its cleaning powers then nettle for binding. Its look was pink with little red. He felt safe from infection if he kept to the practice.
Inspecting the clothing the damages were minor. The bear had tried to claw through the bear fur overcoat, a leather shirt and a nettle undershirt. Thinking of how much the she-bear’s own fur had protected her he wondered how deeper the gash would have been had he not worn the bear overcoat. It truly was an important piece of armor for him.
<CALLE 108 bear honor>>>
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With the summer having started getting wet was safer. Calle used this chance to dig up more clay at the lake bank. The iron headed shovel could actually cut not just mush the clay. It went so much faster. By evening the two amphora, for setting aside planting stocks, and a large amphora were complete. The large would simplify being in the workshop area by refilling a quenching tub as needed.
The night was the straining work of stretching out the rinsed and dried battle bear hide. It proved to be even more exhausting than the fight! Calle passed out on top of fur at the work table.
Come morning he snorted to clear out a bear hair that gone up his nose. One last blow struck upon him!
He laughed.
Now that the amphora had cooled from the firing he move the left over allotment for planting of rye and turnip. The clay inside the cellar would be safer from critters or bugs chewing on them and from temperature changes. His organization now was to store the planting allotment in those cellar amphora scooping out a wooden cup worth at a time for actual planting at the field. Edible allotments could go in other containers letting him know even if dazed which to eat. The ready portion of those would be in Swan Cabin’s kitchen shelves.
It amazed Calle how efficient clay was for storage containers. It couldn’t be shaped like wood and it was certainly more prone to breaking. For long term storage the clay works were great. The small kettles for teas was also such a handy thing in case of sickness abroad.
A routine cleaning and resetting the eastern pit traps discovered a hidden bird amid one of the supporting traps. It had already started to decay. To pay homage to the waste Calle made it a funeral pyre of firewood and let heather petals go into the flames. Sadder still was while resetting the west pit traps one of the support traps had a decaying Kuikka. The same pyre and petals homage was paid.
“This time,” Calle said, “I wasn’t here to let you go. I hope through the smoke you can rise to fly again.”
Thinking on the way back Calle had been debating what to do with the battle bear fur. He could use it as a blanket to rotate out the winter elk fur from being an upper. He did like sleeping with that one. The holes and cuts on the battle bear could be sewn. In the night a draft might get in or they stitches catch a finger or toe. The elk had come away smooth. It fur was finely combed now. The
He decided that the might of the battle bear would come him in battle! It would become a cloak. Even more weight would slow him though the extra layer would be great. In a winter hunt he could even take it off for a blanket below, above or as a wind flap on shelter. As a cloak its cuts and stitches gave it character. Being asked about them would let Calle tell his tale of battling the bear.
The left overs went to join the bedding area. As needed the small ones were curled for pillows, tucked under legs, supporting his back or hung from pegs. Calle gave a shiver. He had recalled those early nights in the First Winter challenge without all the extra layers and a simple shelter on the edge of a mire. Smiling again he gave himself the chance to sit up on the bed and feel proud of his progress. He dreamed of the battle bear’s spirit coming alongside the cloak to aide him in battles to come.
<CALLE 109 bear cloak>>>
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A happy summer day with a high sun and high temperatures. Inspired by his recent dream Calle shaped left over clay into the shape of a standing bear. As if it was dancing or fighting depending on how you sang with it. This would be good addition to the story telling set.
His wound was healing well with a scab over it with softening pink edges. His treatment today was to wash with water and heather. For binding he added stonecrop instead of nettle as a mixing of cures.
Attempts at swimming were floundering like a fish on land. At least he found swan feathers, a reminder of the long unseen Swan spirit. He tied a few to the loom inside the cabin. Those waters were horrendously cold.
To warm up he took to smithy a large blade with tangs on each end. This became a draw knife to add to his tool collection. Like this you could grip on either side to tug with all your body. This wasn’t useful for fighting nor for skinning games. It was great for removing bark and shaping concave wood shapes, that is outwardly round. The complement tool is an adze, like the stone adze he had dug out logs with.
The day came when the smoked elk finally looked ready. As he prepared to cellar it Calle decided that now was the time to make the courtyard cellar. Then ready foods could be stored within the over log walls in the unroofed area. This would cut down on many creatures getting at it. Having a two cellar system would also act as a safety if either should get damaged.
It may be a simple thing though Calle had to ponder how to rotate the foods. He decided the oldest preserved food would come to the courtyard cellar. The newest one would be stored at the exterior with the planting stores. Most of the medicinal herbs were brought to the courtyard. A reserve of very useful ones like heather and nettle were kept at the exterior.
Its at the exterior cellar that the fox carving stands guard. Debating what to carve for this guardian he settled on a badger carving, badgers are bold enough to try to enter anywhere. As the hope goes if one is already there then another won’t come.
<CALLE 110 badger figurine>>>
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Now in late fallow month the calendar of chores was in a freer time. It was in this summer time that they say other peoples made war. Certainly raiders could leave their crops less attended to have the manpower for the long ships of stories. Calle wasn’t near an ocean shore. He was deep inland though adventures could be done. For a few week any expansion work was optional. Calle chose that he would wait until the battle bear meat was done smoking. Then he could be away more than one or two nights.
Exploring found the berries were coming into season now.
“A sweet food,” said Calle, “but we can not live on berries alone.”
Which was a truth. The protiens of meats weren’t there. It was a great way to have sugars. There taste good be pleasing with the right berries. Raspberries were his favorite but what he found today was crowberries, blueberries, bilberries and lingonberries. He added the few pounds his general search found to the courtyard cellar. In the days ahead he would go scout the mire where he fought the first bear of the area. That mire had been full of different berries.
In those few days it was calm. A proud broad smile was on Calle’s face as he lifted up his first turnip harvest of the year. It was still the 3rd week before midsummer. There should be time for a second turnip harvest. From a seeding cup he pulled out turnip seeds to hand turn them into the spots he harvested turnips from.
On the mire gathering Calle remained alert to avoid the poisoning flowers. They had given him. Several clumps of them he cut the stalks off so they could whither without doing harm. What was useful is the bogbean that grows in the wetter and ponds of the mire. This would be handy herb to carry a few of.
Day 1 of the 2nd week before midsummer
Checking as the sun passes its highest Calle decided the battle bear meat had been smoked enough for storage. As planned it was moved to the original outer cellar. Now with good stocks of meat in both even if some disaster like a flood or fire destroyed one the other would survive.
“Preparation is all it takes to live,” proclaimed Calle.
The evening was spent in final preparations. Among them was ensuring the planting seeds were safe in their clay amphora in the outer cellar. The smoked bear meat was hidden there now. That might attract other scavengers. Guard traps were all in order. Calle felt confident of it all being here when he came back.
<CALLE 111 trip ready>>>
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A thin curve of sun was ascending on the horizon with a deep notch of moon descending. In this strange mix of silvery orange light Calle began his trip for the coast. Limited trade goods were with him with most of the value in arrows and an extra wooden tub.
Which direction to go? Due north might be the shortest though he heard there was a gap in the Owl migrations this year. North east would go to the villages he knew. North west was probed once and should hold more villages. There were hills running north west. Calle decided that using them would let him see more of lands. At time he would bear more north while at others to visit the Owl settlements.
The moon was down and sun only half above the horizon when he reached his travel shelter at Munchwood. It was embarrassing to have trouble finding it. He hadn’t taken the time before to leave trail markers. This was corrected as he watched goldeneye birds play about in the lake water.
Carrying on the sun was just beyond its highest when he arrived at the camp at Lynxwood. There old Bilzi was in need of herbs from the mires. His own joints were in a pain that he feared might leave him stuck in the mud. Tromping through mires was how Calle gathered berries. This was a simple chore soon done. Bilzi mixed up a healing brew. It felt good to have a second mix. Instincts wouldn’t be so afraid to use at them now.
Strolling to enter the spruce a wolf was prowling their village! Calle’s broad head went past to strike a spruce. The wolf slid off. Checking a few steps in there were at least three wolves! Calle was quick to warn the village.
Bilzi asked, “Could you stay the night? You scared one. You staying may scare the others from attacking our herd?”
A woman Ladja added, “I’ve have some dried meats for your trip if you’d stay in our tent. There is use for your strong hands.”
Calle blushed, “All right. Yes. It would be dangerous for me to try camping soon with them near. It is good for all of us.”
Ladja had minor chores to be done like resetting one of the long tent poles. Maybe it was just an excuse so she could watch them. They sat together listening to Bilzi tell stories. Calle told them of the battle with the bear. Ladja padded at all the wounds in the cloak. She took out her sewing kit and stitched the worst tears tighter than Calle had.
Come morning Ladja and Calle were curled up under the battle bear fur cloak. Calle stroked her forehead as he slid out. She smiled bleary as Calle quietly took the cloak away replacing it with one of their trade furs to cover her.
Coming into the morning light Tobejas an adventuring Owl was on look out.
Calle called, “Tobejas. As you heard last night I’m heading to see the coast. Will you join me in the trip?”
“Not with wolves near,” Tobejas said, “Ladja is my cousin. If you aren’t staying to protect her then I must.”
“She is kind lady,” Calle said, “and a good cook.”
Tobejas added, “It might be dangerous out there. You carry a sword. I’ve been training in swords over the years. Let me see what guards you know. Then at least my lores can travel with you.”
Tobejas gave lessons on sword fighting, with and without a shield. On using different guard positions, how to strike from one to return to another. Just past a half hour in one of the wolves again prowled the camp.
Tobejas said, “Lesson over. I’m needed. Stay safe. We’ll set up torches tonight.”
Calle nodded. It troubled him to be continuing on. The Owl had lived in traveling tents for the ages. Their lores should handle the wolves. That is what he told himself.
Calle made his way north north east through forest and mires. At noon he took a meal. He debated setting a travel shelter but decided to carry on. Onto late afternoon he hadn’t seen tall hills for a while. He check a little west. He could see across the mire a bear and father over a small lake. Giving the bear a wide peace he went to set up a shelter at the lake.
The next day bore north north east again. He was delighted to see high peaks poking up through the woods. Around them water flowed into mires. Iron bogs! He could come here for more iron. He hadn’t brought his shovel this trip so that would be for another time. There were several mountains and mire patches here. This was worth exploring!
It took a few hours to set this work camp up properly. The lean to shelter was only part. He dismantled the first one recalling that wolves and bears are in the area. He moved to a more defensible spot harder to find. Being harder to find meant adding multiple sets of trail markers to find it again. A thick bedding of spruce was added and extra spruce for the sides. A fire ring is simple though takes walking to find the rocks and a good smoke stone. Guard traps were set and an offering to the spirits made. A lot of work now preparing for future trips or should he wounded on this one.
Further north he saw more mountains than he had ever seen before.
“The northern spine!”
He heard of this. The ring of mountains of the north that kept the ocean back from the middle lands. Soon beyond it should be the coast. It was also full of mountains draining to mires.
“Spine iron,” smiled Calle.
He clambered up the mountain side to decide where to make another work camp. That’s when he noticed the deep cracks hiding hollows. There could be caves!
He soon found one amid Calm Mountain that even had an anthill just into the trees south. It had a curving narrow entrance with a reasonable sized interior. A rear notch could fit a bed and a door for a secured placed.
Now that he knew what to look for there might have been one by the previous work camp. Debating for a while it could be checked on the way back or the next visit. He carried on mindful to look for possible caves. So focused on that he had forgotten to watch the sun! Rain clouds were hiding the sky and he had just thought they were the darkness. In the dark and rain he fumbled to assemble an emergency shelter.
At noon the next day hiking up a ridge of hills Calle saw a wide water. A few more steps and it was broad water with islands. The coast! With an elk strolling near the shore. Rubbing his chin Calle wondered about hunting the elk. He was at least two days from Swan Cabin now. Add in the time to butcher and so forth it would be three or four before he could get the meat into the smoke house. Too much time.
“Live today,” Calle waved to the elk, “I shall not risk wasting your gift. May we meet in the hunt again.”
Out on the farthest pennisula he could see Calle built a stack of stones and rock. A brief splash in the ocean waters. He swam a few strides to a patch of land and fished from there.
“Didn’t catch anything,” Calle laughed, “But I’ve gone fishing on the north coast!”
<CALLE 112 fished north coast>>>
-
Heading back he slept in the Calm Mountains cave.
“Might as well call you Calm Cave.”
Simple improvements were made. Guard traps for the entrance, which caught a grouse. Stones for a fire ring as odd as that to have in a cave its still useful to contain sparks and raise smoke. A mat of spruce to sleep on as well.
Carrying on a bull elk was met at short range through the spruce. Calle didn’t take a shot knowing how poorly the attempts of hunting elk in thick spruce had gone.
A bit more hiking took him near the work camp. He made to a mountain with a crock to the east of it. Sure enough it had a cave. As he came to it there was steps next to a steep notch. It was seemed odd how steep the notch was there. As he took the steps he came into the cave. Inside there was bits of debris, rotted wood and just visible on the walls reverse hand prints. The kind made by putting you hand on something them spraying paint on it. Sketches of animals with that one there having antlers of a bull elk.
This was Old One’s Mountain. The old one’s cave.
Calle touched around to get to know the place. His hands found chiseling of initials and runes. They weren’t all one style nor all one language. One branch of the Old One’s cave almost too him. It dropped off in the dark like into the bowels to the underground. He might try climbing this exceptional steep part or he might just be trapped down there.
This place was a mystic one. Placing heather out he felt unsteady. Was he really worthy of this place? It was a place of knowing. It had learned things. People had taught here and the stones had heard.
Taking a breath Calle lowered down. Hoping there was a place for him there. A place for him in the two worlds. As his feet felt down they felt something soft. Gropping down he found bones and fur. Was this the sacrifice pit? Or a waste pile? Prodding back he found stones again. It was a strange place. Old knowing, growing and turning back to stone.
Humming old songs this lower gate echoed back.
Calle reached to find the spot he came from. Was he coming back from the underworld? Dead and reborn? He heard some shamans take such a journey. To be undone then remade with the powers of the other place coming with them. By swimming, by caving like this or being shoved under the water.
His hands prodded and feet slipped. He slid back down.
“Am I worthy?” Calle asked.
“If I stay we will never know,” he answered.
Calle’s finger found notches to hold. A foot stepped on a large round skull barely made out in the dark. On pulling Calle’s elbow found a ledge. Heaving by them he rose up from the underground.
Respecting this as a place of power Calle went about setting up a mat for sleeping, a fire ring and guard traps. Instead of branches the small fire was made with spruce. Deliberately to fill it with smoke.
Curls floated around the cave paintings dancing in the flickering light.
As Calle slept he trusted to Swan Spirit and the ancestors he was walking close enough to the right path to be led on.
<CALLE 113 Old One’s Cave>>>
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Gotta say the random name assigner really came through today with "Old One's mountain"
-
Awakening among the living Calle went to complete the preparations here. Since he would be leaving the guard traps were disarmed. It is not right to kill the animals without using them. That’s waste.
Exploring the side a few rocks were lined up as they had been old trail markers. Any wood ones must have rotted or been knocked away. Calle was hardly the first person to use this cave. He was just the current visitor. Pondering to live here was only brief. The Swan Spirit was his guide and she had not appeared here. This was a place for journey.
Laying out fresh trail marker branches Calle spotted flowers on the side of the hill. Coming closer he sniffed them, rubbed their leaves in his fingers and opened the petals. These were rose root. A good medicine. Boiling it restores health from many illnesses. What Calle wondered is which came first the shamans or the flowers? To him the current steward it didn’t really matter. He was just curious.
When they were set he began to head back south east. Yet his heart pulled on him. This was the time of travel. To enter the underground and return to the same right spot seemed to miss a phase of the journey. Calle turned west.
Knowing roughly where the coast was he stayed where the reindeer herding Owl peoples would prefer, south of the Northern Spine Mountains. He found the herders at Kilncliff. Their dogs barked briefly at his approach. There would be no wolves here today. To their head woman Ailitza was traded the wooden tub for foods.
“Whats the flavoring? It seems familiar,” asked Calle.
Ailitza said, “Stone crop. The mountain we camped next to has them. Its a medicine herb. Sometimes I add medicines to foods for travelers. Keeps them well.”
“Thank you wise woman,” Calle lowered his gaze respectfully.
He strode up there gathering for his own stocks. From there he saw a really wide set of the Northern Spine mountains. Hiking father west he found another “Old One’s” cave. Painted and used by generations like the first.
This one had a very pinched entrance that a single door could cover. Inside was like two houses, one north and one south. Both wide and only a little slope. There was no deep pit here. The paintings were different too. Same styles just more focused on animals and hills. There were moons amid some drawings. Plants were blooming or just twigs in others.
“A hunting guide!” Calle shouted, “Where to find animals by what the plants are doing. A seasonal guide to find them.”
The old ones had been making notes to teach on how to find the animals.
Carrying on Calle found another cave of the Old Ones. It had a small straight opening both easy to walk and build a door for. There were slopes inside with only a few spots needing climbing. Paintings and hand prints were here. Animals, plants with more people but not as much as the first Old One’s cave.
Hiking further west he came to the Owl folk camped at Darncliff. Giving them the signs of peace with open hands they let Calle sleep in their great tent, a kota. They were eager of news. Calle told them of the growing number of Owl tribes he met. They grew happy hearing familiar names of kinsfolk and friends.
“There are caves of the Old Ones. Are their stories of them?” asked Calle.
Old Rikkar spoke up, “Best be careful with those. The old ones left guardian spirits. Some have gone mad sleeping in them. Others had visions. It will shelter you from a storm if you show it respect.”
Calle nodded, “There are teachings in them.”
“You’ve seen them?” Maarit an Owl mother asked nervously.
Her boy Askel snapped, “Is he a spooked man?”
Maarit pulled the boy close, “He didn’t mean disrespect.”
Rikkar leaned to look closer at Calle, “I don’t think this one is spooked. He might have… hmm…”
“Learned something,” said Calle.
“Yes,” Rikkar said, “Learned from the old ones. Please be safe tonight in our kota. In case something followed you don’t stay on. Continuing your journey.”
“That is fair,” Calle said.
When they slept Maarit kept Askel at the far side of the kota.
Carrying on Calle was hiking to another cave. It was when circling it he heard a human snarl.
A nerjpez warrior was rushing at him!
Old Rikkar had been right!
<CALLE 114 Nerjpez attack>>>
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The enemy coming at him held a roundshield forward to protect from arrows and a pointed hunting knife. That is not the signs of peace! An axe was slung over his back. He was without a bow. Steel glinted off his lamellar vest.
Calle had traveled with a bow in hand in case of game. Though without his full bear fur layers he had brought the damaged spectacle helm and iron knee cups.
The first quick arrow went wide. Thunk an arrow hit the attacker’s shield. Thunk the third. It was going to be knife and shield versus sword and shield. Time to apply the lessons he had!
First blows. Madness! The attacker counter thrusted skipping a cut on Calle. A poor trade! Calle’s sword cut deeper into the warrior’s hip.
Screaming in a foreign language the two struck at each other. Calle backed up judging if the new limp would let enough distance happen to use a bow. It wouldnt be enough. It did let the warrior switch to his axe but then back again.
Both were uncertain of the other.
A blow by axe thudded haft onto the oak shield that Calle dropped it. Frantically he swayed and snapped it up. Next swing Calle shield punched the haft scrapping a finger. The axe dropped to the ground. The warrior jolted his shoulder as the momentary pain lashed through then grasped for the axe. Calle was faster at sweeping his foot to send it flying down the mountain side.
To the hunting knife and shield against Calle’s sword and shield. A swing by the warrior then he turned to run. To his bow Calle switched with a miss then a broadhead stuck into the warror’s left calf. It dug in deep and hard, a bone strike. He fell the ground wailing.
Arrow, notch, draw, steady, release.
Arrow, notch, draw, steady, release.
Misses, misses, then a broad head into the right hip. Even more leg struck the warrior knew flight was worthless the warrior elbow crawled up the hill.
Calle had fought bears up close when he was layered in furs. That gave him a wound that taught him the danger of that.
Arrow, notch, draw, steady, release.
Travelling with his full quiver and trade arrows as well Calle kept up the bombardment. After more hits the warrior laid still. Respecting the danger Calle switched from bow to the river sword and oak shield. He approached cautiously less the man rise like a bear once did.
Standing next to the unconscious man Calle sneered angrily down. Was this from the underworld? No.
When Calle had completed his First Winter challenge the Nerjpez had moved camps into the lands near there. It was said by sage the were trying to stop him. The stirring of worlds would mean Calle was strengthening the tribes. The foes had wanted to stop Calle. Continuing his journey meant not facing them right away. He had more to learn. They had tried to hunt him young.
Now that he had gone to the Old One’s and crawled into their depths and return one of them was here. They were trying to stop Calle. Whatever strength Calle was forming between the worlds they didn’t want it. Without it his family would be in danger, his village and maybe even the Swan Spirit.
From calcutating battle to fury Calle put the river sword in a high guard. Its rippling textures shimmered as it swung to a low guard and beyond. It cut into the enemy’s neck. To high guard, low guard and beyond river sword cleaved half way through the neck. As the blood withdrew Calle saw the enemy’s neck bones. Life left the enemy.
Calle stepped back. His rage was numbing the pain of his wounds. Looking high to the sky then scanning for more dangers.
In the distant north east mountains a bear shape was moving. Did it just look to them?
Adrenaline rage was still flowing. Deep breaths. Calle took deep breaths. The bear was too far to attack. Arrows from misses and blocks dotted the Darncliff hill side. Pain gained the attention of Calle’s thoughts.
The scariest was a cut to his neck!
Shallow was the cut on his neck, without hitting an artery. A fraction deeper and he’d have been dead!
Minor stab wounds started with the first one to his upper right arm, a one to his left upper arm and a skip off the left knee iron cup to his knee. That one too could have been so much more dangerous.
“Clean with heather,” Calle reminded himself.
The early wounds had taught him that. First he dosed water and crumpling heather to swap his neck. As he began a hare scampered along the mountain to them then turned and bolted. Had the bear spirit sent it as a messenger? The other wounds were heather cleaned.
Searching his travel stash produced the four bandages he washed after uses to have them for the next time. Calle had used nettle as a follow up to heather and stone crop was also good that way. It was stone crop that had come on this journey. He choose this time to use the stone crop as a part of this quest.
In that hour of wound tending no more attacks came. The hare had meant the forest was calm with him. The bear was hard to judge. Calle felt that now the distant bear was a fellow warrior of the lands. Perhaps the enemy had been hunting the bear when Calle found them or was this all part of the new ties to the Old Ones. Both could be true at the same time.
Bandaged now Calle stepped to the fallen warrior. He unhooked the lamellar torso protection. Now this had come to Calle. It joined the iron of his damaged looking helm and knee cups. This lamellar represented a huge amount of labor. From the mounting it had come from drilling plates those from forming plates those from mixing to have steel those from iron billets those from iron blooms those from iron ore.
<CALLE 115 Battle of Darncliff>>>
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Having collecting the enemy warrior’s gear Calle wore the lamellar vest. Like the rest of the enemy’s clothing it was damaged and worn. It wasn’t just from fighting Calle. How long had they been out here. Had he been here on a quest from his people to stop powers like Calle’s quest?
Exploring the cave found it only a few of the old paintings on the walls. Debris was limited to a few bones and fur. There were several dangerous drops. It would be tricky to live there without an accident. The bear he saw might live here well enough.
It was time then for the funeral of the warrior. The body was carried to a dip in the hillside. Two trees were felled to burn on top. The ash would flow over the warrior sealing them in the underworld. Animals moved about the work. Two hares seen at the same time and a pole cat. This seemed a good sign.
As that fire took Calle shook his empty water skin. He would need water. The bear was still to the north east. Calle would give it ground. Let it have the cave. If there was any of man meat left from the fire Calle didn’t want to be near a bear that had a taste for people, even if it had been an enemy.
Nestled in the mountains was a bog felled by creeks. Its simply beauty a contrast to the harsh battle. When he arrived Calle found it oddly shapped. It was a giant bowl filling from the ring of mountains and hills. Oily slicks played in many place.
“Iron,” said Calle, “All the ring flows down here to one bog pit. This place is a natural net for iron.”
It was a long trip from Swan Cabin and he had no shovel this time. Evening was coming on.
Injuries require rest too. Calle assembled between two the slow water falling pools a shelter. It was far less guarded then he normally made. Roseroot medicine herb was growing there too. Mountain water fall pools tasted of clean water. It felt right for a healing shelter.
Come morning there was only a four days to midsummer. Striding west along the ridge Calle spied a reindeer herd moving. Thinking as a balanced hunter Calle pondered what would come of a successful hunt. The Owl village at Darncliff was a half day to a day away. He would take the meat there for it to be used. In trade he’d take other goods.
The hunt on the mire wounded one then they scattered. Trailing them they took to rest amid a cluster of pools and creeks. As Calle approached the reindeer were reluctant to enter the water. A little disappointment was in Calle’s heart as the wounded one was far to the side. What were pinned in a notch was another reindeer and a yearling. He volleyed into the older of the pair.
When Calle did come into the Darncliff camp old Rikkar took one look at the foreign armor and bandages then began shouting over his shoulder. Another old man nimble in his jog hurried over.
“There’s been fighting,” he said, “Call me Jouna. I am a sage. The spirit guides have been keeping me up. Reindeer don’t normally put up a fight like that.”
Calle laughed, “No it wasn’t any reindeer. An enemy warrior maybe on his own quest came upon me. He attacked. We fought. Calle won. The reindeer came the next day.”
Jouna said, “You can tell us the story after I see to your wounds. If you are the ones the spirits have been singing of stay a few days to heal.”
Calle liked the sound of that.
Rikkar scowled, “Its dangerous if he is attracting them.”
Jouna barked, “He’s not attracting them! He’s stopping them.”
Rikkar looked between them all, “Well… he deserves hospitality. For a short time.”
Four nights Calle stayed healing at Darncliff. There was certainly lots of food to go around! It gave him time to tan the felled reindeer’s hide. Rikkar even came to give him advice. Jouna was looking on. The enemy’s extra clothes were traded with more meats for one of the vilage’s own reindeer hides.
On the latter days Calle carved up a wooden shovel. It would let him return with ores from these special places. Passing time he carved the figured of a man. Cross marks on the chest denoted this as an armored man. A chuckle came from Calle. This was much like finding the wounded travelers in villages.
The last night with them saw the summer solstice. Many songs were sung. They shared their solstice cooking with him which included portions of the reindeer he had felled. Nearing full recovery Calle decided now was a time to depart. Rikkar shuffled his feet with a pout as Calle left.
First on the destination was the healing shelter in that perfect place for bog ore. Enough was gathered for two good blooms. From there he went on west. A part of him wanted to meat the Seal tribe.
It was a triple run of rivers flowing to the north coast that Calle found. They created a pair of land strips in side. In there sat a community in two clusters. It took three scoutings of the ford to find one the miserable swimmer Calle could attempt crossing. Finaly he found one where it didn’t take more than a few strokes to swim across.
At the village he spoke with Tiinna. She said they called themselves the Kuikka tribe. Though surprised they weren’t “seal” people the Kuikka was to Calle a friend of the Swan Spirit. They had both tents and a log cabin. A child’s birthday party was roaring with laughter.
Twins, a boy Biitho and a girl Riida, were the birthday kids. Calle laughed.
“I am Calle,” he began, “A questor who has been to the underground of the Old Ones and back again. I defeated a warrior on a quest to stop our blessings with the spirit. I fought, we won. There are new blessings to be in the land. The forest watched us as bear who sent a messenger in the form of a hare in congratulations. Later they let me keep a reindeer whose hide is here. It was tanned while the Owls of Darncliff helped me heal. Now for you…”
Calle trundled around his baggage.
“These two bowls are twins,” Calle said handing each child one, “They come from the same mother stump. I made them while healing at Darncliff. They are part of this quest. Here is a gift for each of you.”
A woman stepped up, “I’ll hold onto those. I am their mother Heide. This is my husband Hegon.”
Hegon gave the signs of peace, “We are happy to have you adventurer. Such deeds keep the lands alive with the spirits of all our peoples.”
Calle joined the party trading stories and playing in the games. Hours of laughter tired him out. He slept in a Kota again. They were rather comfortable in the summer. Up high the vent was wide open to let out the heat.
Come morning Calle followed the rivers in the north east paths. They joined and continued as even mightier flows. Finally he came to the mouth of the river opening to the sea. This felt like an accomplishment. His heart had wanted to see the coast and meet the peoples. He had gone into the under world and come back. An enemy power was defeated to keep the land safe. Ores were found for the blessing they would become. Life had been celebrated at the party of the twins. Now he stood at the river’s mouth. As waters flowed they entered the endless possibilities of the future.
Calle smiled. Content.
<CALLE 116 river mouth content>>>
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Almost leaving his heart wanted to leave a sign he was here. On the shore he assembled a stack of rocks and stone. Other people would call this an inukshuk. The deliberate stacking of stones with or without gaps showing that it was assembled making the presence of a person mandatory.
“Someone was here,” Calle said.
A trunk and rock were setup on the shore for tanning hides, if it ever had to be done. A half curve of pines was the backdrop for a shelter. A pair of guard traps and fire ring would close it in. The sleep was a broken once by sounds of moving. The sea knocking things on the shore was strange to Calle. Had it been that? Or a spirit? Sacrifices had been out to show respect.
On the morning the trip began. It would a parallel and scout the coast, from hill tops at times. Eastward is the first coastline he found.
Calle could travel looking for that to know when to turn south. Along the way a cave was found and checked. Different paintings had to deal with seal and something much bigger than a seal and a lumpy head. Was that a whale? Heading out he saw a person in the distance. They were moving south east. Didn’t seem like they wanted to talk.
Evening had Calle at that first coast finding. A shelter was erected but not much time to improve it. A single set of trail markers was set. His wounds were healing well. However the supply of heather petals had long since been depleted. Stonecrop being recently gathered continued to help with the bandaging.
He knew these lands a little. Another cave was explored. He noticed how they didn’t scare them now. Whatever might be in there he had been into the bowels of the Old Ones presence and defeated a foe that tried to crush their powers. Sure it might be scary if he walked up to a bear inside a cave. It was no longer that he was afraid not knowing what could be in the caves.
He reached Calm Cave before the sun touched the evening horizon. This added to his sense of bonding with the caves. He had slept it in once already. His spruce mat was still there.
Next morning he made south east. Again a person was seen. Standing on a hill top in plain view Calle are a meal. He was giving lots of time to be seen. Robber’s didn’t do that. It was chance for them to decide if Calle was real. Moving down to the area they weren’t found. Calle didn’t search for too long. If they didn’t want company they didn’t have to have it.
The first Old Ones cave was visited next. Calle almost silly about how afraid he had been the first time. He still respected the place. He just felt settled with it. Nearby was the iron camp. Thoughts of digging were dismissed. It must be like two weeks since he was at Swan Cabin. He really should get back to the crops.
On a mire he was able to actually walk into a reindeer herd. Reindeer grazing on each side of him. Only when he even started to think about hunting to did they get frightened and run. That felt magical. Having them all around him. It was a throwing distance to each. They really had thought he was a tree or a man of the forest.
After sleeping on spruce, having collapsed on them while gathering exhausted, Calle was still moving south east when he finally met someone. This was Olesa a woodsman.
“No particular tribe. Not since my wife died in a sickness. Kids grew up already,” Olesa said, “I’ve just wanted to be in the woods. Been out here for years now. Always keep a dog though. Good to wake you if a bear is prowling nearby. Confuses the wolves too.”
Calle passed Olessa the mittens from the warrior, “Something to help you along next winter.”
Carrying on the hike took him to a lake he knew. On the south east side he passed one of the traveling shelters. He was back in the ring of camps around his homestead. Come evening he was at the Tarwide travel camp. It felt good to slide inside a premade shelter.
Day 1 of the 12th week before wintered
Finally a parting spruce bough showed the logs of Swan Cabin. Bits of needles and wind blow dotted the roof lightly. It was looked like an established place not a brand new one. Wall logs were bleaching to the sun light. There was a perspective to this place now. It was a station amid a wide world full of different people. Mysteries still exist out there. Here is a safe place to rest, gather and prepare.
“A moment is all it takes to die,” recited Calle, “Preparation is all it takes to live.”
Circling the cabin he collected three birds in traps. This would also mean checking the pit traps soon too. Storing things needed to be done.
First the perfect place ores were set aside near the forge works. A reindeer and forest reindeer hide were added to the trade fur stack. The warrior’s leather shoes were put under the sleeping bunk. He’d study them later for how they were made. The warrior’s woodsman axe went there too as a spare tool in case of robbery or loss in the field. Berries and Owl preserved foods went into the cellar. Heather petals were added back into his travel bundle. He took off the battle bear fur cloak shaking it outside the door to loosen all the weird things it had picked up.
Calle stared hard at the neck cover, niska, of his full gear. He rubbed the neck wound that had healed. There was a string feeling of a scar. He pulled the niska off the wall peg to fit it around his neck. That wound was a warning. From now he would pretty much always wear fur around the vulnerable neck for protection.
As he slide the fur niska into place he hands touched the steel of the lamellar prize. Now this would matter in future fights. It was missing plates even before Calle had killed the previous wearer. Its funny how iron goods out last their users. Looking at it showed the plates at different colors of patina. It had been repaired several times. Another good piece to study. In principle the idea is simple. Make steel into flat plates and drill holes. The armor comes from using the holes to sew them onto each other or onto clothing. As he was at home the metal armors came off: the lamellar, knee cups and spectacle helm.
Calle chuckled by the time he would add all his furs in winter fighting he would like quite the sight! Armored bears! Imagine fighting armored bears! He laughed.
Well nothing had fallen into the pits. On the good side nothing had ravaged the crops. The traps and fences had done that much at least. The turnips had ripened being the fast growers. The first sorrel plants were also ready. Over a hundred turnips went into the cellars. It was important that some were harvested to have seeds for next year.
Before going to bed there was one solemn thing to do. He took out the wooden figure of the warrior. In stories this could be an enemy or Calle or someone else. He studied it.
His mind drifted, “now to then”. Calle shuddered as the warrior was rushing up the hill with the initial limp yet still at speed. The stab that caught his arm. The wildness of blows. Calle’s head jerked when his neck was hit in the fight. His hands were shaking in the now. Hips twisted to power arms for blows. The near death when Calle was on the ground. Eyes of panic in the now. Death had been so close to him! In a few seconds of “then” the warrior’s axe hit the ground released by a stunned hand. Calle’s leg lashed in the “now” like it did to scatter the axe. That decisive moment. The warrior turned to flee. Then the shooting.
Arrow, notch, draw, steady, release.
Calle became calm again in the now. Thoughts of anger that filled him in the “then” when he raised the river sword to chop the neck were now sadness. A person had died.
That person had almost been Calle.
Calle’s shaking hands wobbled the wood figure among the others. Sliding between the furs he pulled the upper fur over his head. Calle wept.
<CALLE 117 Back at Swan Cabin>>>
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Commentary
This is the list of figures. The wood carving is in the BAC thanks to Iago and the clay ones are from IIRC older sources
<list of figurines>
Elk = fine wood figurine, inspired by elk that became a bear, at Swan Cabin bed
Bear = wood figurine, inspired by elk that became a bear, at Swan Cabin bed
Fox = wood figurine, guards Swan Cabin exterior cellar, put at exterior cellar of Swan Cabin
Lynx = wood figurine, inspired by trouble maker at the field, put at fields shelter near Swan Cabin
Swan = wood figurine, inspired by the homesead, blessing spirit of Linenfell, hung over bed
Reindeer = wood figurine, from the pre winter hunt and all reindeer, given hare bone antlers, at Swan Cabin bed
Badger = wood figurine, guards Swan Cabin courtyard cellar, put at courtyard cellar of Swan Cabin
Upright bear = clay figurine, inspired by the battle bear though for all bears too, at Swan Cabin bed
Man = clay figurine, Swan Cabin bed
Woman = clay figurine, Swan Cabin bed
Tree = clay figurine, Swan Cabin bed
Cloaked figure = clay figurine, Swan Cabin bed
Armored warrior = fine wood figurine, inspired by battle of Darncliff after visiting the Old Ones, Swan Cabin bed
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Awakening the next day Calle rubbed his face then combed his hair. The mind can be trapped in the tense horrors of “then” and slip away from “now”. Now was a time in late hay month. Its a time when a second set of turnip crops could be started. The ground is firmer then it will be in fall rains. So now is also a good time to shift in some trunks for firewood, crafting or building in the winter. With the waters wet he could punt across the bay for logs to avoid cutting too much down close to the homestead.
A load was delivered to the firewood stocks. Calle recalled starting last winter with sixty and now there was thirty. So what was needed was thirty and doubled for safety was sixty. That doubled number was put in stock. A few trees worth were brought in as boards. Bad ones would go to fire wood and better ones for crafting.
What was taking days was building up for more charcoal burning. A good amount was left but that might not make it through the ores now on hand. By sled and water getting the tree trunks felled and delivered was a pretty easy step. It tooks days of splitting to break six trunks down into a mass of firewood. Then three days to get them mounded and started. Those mounds needed tending for a few days. Having set the mounds inside the workshop area Calle set to work on iron blooms right next to them. The village smiths must have someone working for them on making charcoal. That would let them focus on the metal working.
Those days were hot from the bloom fires in front of him and the warm wounds behind. He splashed badly in the waters wondering how people could swim across rivers. When the time came to uncover the mounds it had gone well. Without the blustery shifts of winter winds the wind screen had guarded them well. Piling them up it could be guessed the charcoal was over half a ton now. Plenty for many projects by a solo smith like Calle.
It was a pleasant enough time. Hard work reminded Calle of his last few years at home. Having grown from boyhood to an early man he had been called on more and more to heavier chores. There would always be more chores.
The spirit came to him to travel to turnip hill. Those plants that nourished him were again in bloom. The collections would aid him in the next winter coming. What he brought back would be in a good company with the coming harvest from the Linenfell fields of the Swan Cabin homestead.
Days of ringing the anvil. First the ore stocks from fetched around Swan Cabin then the special ores of Darncliff’s perfect bog basin. Muck roasted, bloom pounded to drive away the clinging things and hammer to simple shape. The stack of billets grew yet it was only a fraction of a small child.
Harvest had marched into its ides, a foreign word for the middle times. Crops were raising up. Calle had put example patches near the cabin. These let him see the rate of growth of the crops. He compared them to the memories from his youth. Flax seemed now ready. He had planted it here and there in main fields amid the ash turnings. These he gathered. It wasn’t a huge yield but it was a start and would give seeds for later years.
Gathering the flax Calle noticed a pea pod had an opening. Turning the green sheathe in his hand he looked closely.
“No scratches,” Calle mused, “This is from the inside. By the plant. So you peas are ready too.”
Peas were a tougher crop with their growing time. Here they were growing. They were added to the harvest of the 9th week before winter. Plants were inspected across the plots. Calle recalled now that he had done the planting over time. It takes so much work to do an ash turn that it was spread out over weeks. It was the plots turned last year or early this year that were ready. The rest would come along in time.
With the passing into fall the wild plants were in their cycle. It occurred to Calle to get the heather he preferred in rituals he should go soon to the south. Last year he learned they did not seem to grow this far north.
Crossing the mire and spruce edge he made for the northern river where he had a punt shelter. He stepped onto the mire to look closer at what the berries were doing. From another bush a lone reindeer rose up. Calle made a plan for this hunt. The river was near to the east. He kept to the west of the reindeer in a drive hunt.
When it got near dense spruce Calle was worried he would lose it like he had lost so many elk in spruce. He fired but missed.
He walked over to search and pull his arrow from a spruce branch. Knowing he had food stocks this wasn’t desperate. Experience taught him if not today then soon he’d get game. He took a drink from his water skin and started to pull out smoked meats to eat. The reindeer came back to view.
Steady and calm for shooting… ah… meat put to the bow string. Calle flustered at himself. Meat away and arrow notched the reindeer had moved. Calle crept. It wasn’t far. Crouched in lowing ground, around a spruce he followed on the sounds. Raising up bow string was pulled back. Broadhead flew. True to the thorax with a thrash the reindeer fell.
With his free hand Calle drew his hunting knife as he approached. Kneeling down he moved his bow hand down about to swap to pulling tight the neck fur.
Swoosh.
Antlers swirled by his head. Onto his bum he flopped. His right arm instincts lashed out stabbing the reindeer. Bleeding the reindeer floppy stumbled eastward.
Calle cursed. It almost had him with those antlers. If he had to keep stabbing with the knife he might ruin the fur.
Grabbing his longbow, so as not to lose it, Calle now ran at the reindeer. Chased by its predator the reindeer galloped, stumbled and waddled with blotches of foaming blood splattering to the ground.
A lung. The arrow had gone into a lung. Deeply too. The wobbly running would have the broad head edges cutting the inner lung over and over.
Calle shifted south or north to keep forcing it over the last rise to the river.
The crossed over trail markers to the punt shelter. Calle knew those trees a stone throw away, thats where the punt was.
The reindeer bawled at the flowing river. Its weak legs wobbled turning to push past Calle. Calle swung up leg and thrust kicked it back toward the river.
Calle sneered, “Stay there!”
As it stumbled to the river bank Calle ran closer slapping in another kick. Whenever it tried to move past him he kicked it again. All the while the broadhead arrow wiggled with more foaming blood falling on the river bank.
It stumbled to the ground this time to rise no more. By the hunting knife pressed into tightened fur it was sent through the gate back to the other world.
Calle laughed. It was the first time he had done kick hunting! Then he placed a hand on the reindeer’s head. He sung a tune of hums that came to him. It wasn’t any particular words. Just a soft melody to calm the reindeer’s spirit.
Skinning and butchering were started in the deepening night. One the morning it was a short walk to Swan Cabin. The meat went up in the smokehouse and the hide tanning was begun. While waiting for the hide to tan Calle wandered the nearby forest gathering berries.
The next morning the hide was finished. In the smoke house two block stumps were added to the fire. He would a good deep smoke while he was away. Calle watched the fire get started and burn a while. Surrounded by the stones it was burning well. Stepping outside the smoke was well contained with only a few wisps. There was no signs of sparks fluttering.
<CALLE 118 kicked a reindeer>>>
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Now heading to the north river punt shelter Calle spotted a group of travellers. Approaching the signs of peace were exchanged.
“We are traders. Furs for goods,” one said in Calle’s language, “We here the villages and hunters at the north end of the rivers have good furs.”
“Yes we do,” Calle said, “Though mine are in storage.”
“We show goods,” the trader continued, “You like you get furs. You no like we walk.”
It took the rest of the day to travel back, collect, waddle the bundle back and debate.
Of the goods there was an elegant thick long bow browned with a deep oiling and horn tips for the string nocks.
“That one,” the trader pointed to the stack.
Calle started to drag over all the furs.
“No, that one,” the trader said, “Moon fox.”
He touched the winter fox fur with its gleaming white fur. That’s all he wanted.
Calle pulled that one small pelt out and laid it on the ground. The trader put the bow next to it.
“Trade yes?”
“Trade yes.”
Calle picked up the bow. It took a tremendous strength still struggling to string it. The trader came over and tapped Calle’s foot.
“War bow,” the trader said pinning against his foot and twisting his whole body to bend the top, “Use all body for string.”
With this method Calle could string it.
“Moon bow,” Calle called it, “for the moon fox pelt traded for you. A gift from the forest given abroad brought you to me.”
Having yet no silver Calle huffed the big stack of furs back to the cabin. His journey for heather was delayed again. The masterwork longbow was now his main bow. A war bow from distant lands where it was used to kill warriors even in steel armor.
<CALLE 119 Moon bow>>>
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Awakening at midnight Calle felt energy in his body. His body wanted to act. He could make some trade goods or what…
At the forge he selected one of the cleaner iron billets to become a long edge. Another bit of iron would be welded onto the back. Heating and pounding the large blade shape came out. The back was spread wide rather then thick. When he whittled up a handle he had forged a fine looking broad knife. A preferred tool for treating hides.
Calle chuckled. He should have made this earlier.
The sun was up now. Stocking wood in the smoke house fire was his last task before resuming the heather gather. Two stump blocks would be far more than enough, he hoped. A check for smoke flows found it well trapped. The trade bow he had left in reserve under the bed would come with him for trade. The better one from the south trades went there now. That warbow was now his main long bow with its great shape and reinforcing.
On the walk to the punt shelter a lynx was prowling the spruce. Calle would leave it to the traps at Swan Cabin to decide.
Paddling he stopped to study the depth of fords and the plants of river banks. A hare scampering was fun to watch. Another safe ford was found. Something to remember if he ever got trapped by spring melts. He hadn’t gotten to the villages yet when he spotted heather from the shore. It was about the same distance as turnip hill across the east river that made it a river island.
Exploring the heathland there was several swaths of his beloved heather. Also growing was berries, withering crow berries seems to mean heather in bloom. Bilberries were still filling up. Meadsweets and milkwoods were also spotted. A few of those gathered to add to the medicine stores.
There was so much to gather that night and rain came before he had a shelter up. Sleeping when its clear and awake in the rain was a rough night in the woods. He did get the shelter assembled enough in the early morning. This would be left up as a work shelter for gathering. Since he’d be coming back at times improvements were started: trail markers, fire ring, firewood and kindling and guard traps.
A second night was spent then a trip back to restock the smokehouse. Now knowing a short distance to travel he could even get back to the wild harvest the same day. An over night gave a full day at Burbot Rapids medicine heathland.
A happy deep breath filled his lungs. He just discovered the river shore farther along had wild nettles. He wouldn’t cut these for straw. This was too precious a medicine garden with such a long list of healing plants in one spot. The nettle stalks should stay so future travelers could also have them. The leaves he gathered. On his great journey to the north river mouth heather and nettles had been a great power. When the nettles ran out it was good to find stone crops on the mountains.
A few stands of bear pipe were found as well. Truly a bountiful land.
On the next day Calle figured there would be enough smoke still in the smokehouse. He paddled south with the gather to the Maiden’s Stream homestead he had visited several times before. Aune greeted him and told him old Herppa had been hoping he would stop by. Konsta was there too, happy to see Calle thriving.
Herppa began telling of how to meet the water spirits. To stand naked on a lonely rock outcrop with water all around. To do this at deepest night. How they look would reveal how they felt. At least this didn’t require silver!
Checking for silver Calle didn’t find any in the trade piles. There was mail mittens, a rare armor for the hands. Calle traded the old trade long bow and assorted arrows for it. This he felt would be good addition to his growing battle gear.
<CALLE 120 Herbs, mittens and fish folk>>>
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His first gather brought in half the fields that had ripened. It took even his strong arms more than one trip to bring it in. Farmer’s days followed. Threshing and storing the large quantities. By then a few more had ripened needing threshing. All the while daily restocking the smokehouse. Birds were caught enough that half his diet was their fresh meat.
Taking on a smithing again he had wanted to make steel elbow cups to go with his growing collection. Making the steel decently he managed. To make the dome a stone anvil is a poor too. Its good to have both a deep bowl shape to hammer into and an actual metal anvil.
Well he had made block pots by charring and scooping with his stone axe. This time though Calle set to the task of making an iron headed adze with a steel cutting bit. This cut the top of the stump block so much faster. That proven his original stone head adze, made with a stone of about the right shape, was moved under his bed to the spare gear pile.
The metal from the perfect place will be used for the anvil striking surface. Below that the local iron with support the initial shock and take the shapes like the horn and holes to put inserts into. Below a stump block raises it to the right height. Abandoning the stump as needed one can much easier travel with such a small metal anvil. Smithing is such a lengthy process.
When it is complete it sits beautifully with light etching on the base of swan wings each side with a swan neck onto the horn. Its a good symbol of his journey and homestead. The ores from that perfect place are woven into this anvil. Each new shape he makes will gain from its blessing.
“Swan Anvil,” Calle said, “Singing your song with the ring of the hammer.”
Rotation of meats is needed. He has depleted the elk just now. A bit disappointed to have run out just before the rotation Calle ponders how often he needs to hunt. The smoked bear is moved into the courtyard cellar. The next day the currently smoking reindeer is done.
Striking away on the Swan Anvil the work for another important tool comes. Plies with a short jaw and long handle. This lets Calle grip with magnified strength. The first one has a crooked slant and and bits of waste show imperfection to the iron. Learning from that the next two take on swooping curves like a swan’s neck about a pivot short rod.
It is while resting from having forged the pliers that swan like flutters dance from the sky.
The first snow fall of the season! Too exhausted Calle climbs into bed worrying about the remaining crops.
In the morning the crops are still standing. It was a snow fall not a deep frost. That will be soon. Calle also realized that if he wants iron to work this winter he will need to gather more. He still needs more to make a drill. That drill will be needed to put the holes in the steel to have a way to tie it to about his knees.
Calle takes a deep breath. There is nothing in the smokehouse right now. The crops need a week or two or three if the frost holds off. He could take a trip to get ore. A long one or a short one?
<CALLE 121 Anvil and tooling>>>
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(((ARRRRGGG I forgot how many tool steps I put into BAC for getting the armor production going hahaha)))
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Calle decided it should be a short trip.
There was still risk to pushing for the perfect lands to the north west. The round trip to the far west would be four days of travel each way plus a week digging. The trip home being with heavy ores over many miles. The risk of being caught by the snows is there too. That could be a summer time trip like this year.
Over to the iron hill to the south west then. A half day hike at most. Working the mires Calle was reminded this place also had heather and other useful plants. Nettle, milkweed and heather were blooming right around the work shelter Calle had built last time. Swaying flowers amid prickly nettle stems, a beautiful danger, with the shelter, a snuggling safety, in the middle of it.
On the hill itself the view gave Calle reason to pause. Here was now a land he knew and land beyond it too. The main lakes, the rivers and hills were all part of his story now. There where he battled bear. To the far northwest the Kuikka village. To the south east the Kuama who had helped him build his cabin. The lake of Linenfell was just visible with its southern edge but his cabin was on was hidden by other rises and forests.
For three days he toiled in the bog to return with a heavy load of bog ores. Since there was no pressing chore he went back again. Then to return for another harvesting.
Calle was now pleased with his decision. If he had gone northwest he would only just be arriving. From here three times at least could be brought in before changing chores.
Bog flowers floated about a mire pond. Striving them might have ended Calle. Wading into collect them the water was deeply chilling. He struggled to get a shore fire going. Shaking hands and confused thoughts made him miss strike spark. The tinder had gotten wet to. Stumbling across the mire he made for the work shelter with its mats and stocks of wood. This could have gone through the black gate to the other world.
A blazing stump chunk warming the work shelter still when he returned from a more ore gathering. Sleeping over night the morning reminded him of the season. It was snowing.
“Don’t swim in bogs when its going to snow,” Calle reminded himself.
As the day progressed another snowfall, third of the season, convinced Calle to return. Checking the muck bog ores he figured nearly one hundred fifty pounds of the stuff. Its only a fractional yield to iron though that is enough for several projects.
“If I were a Driik village,” laughed Calle, “I’d have some of the people digging bogs, others making charcoal all to feed only a few iron workers.”
A happy return it was. The spirits had led a fox onto the paw board dangling by a fore paw and grouse into a deadfall. Fresh roasted meat after the chilling fright on the ore bog.
On the morning a hare was added to the recent trap captures. It was also time to add more fur clothing. The ones worn last year went on layering him up. The white hare fur of his mask off set the grays and browns of most of the rest. For now the heavy bear overcoat, bear cloak and metal armors were left on there pegs.
A day to heave in two loads of harvest from the fields. Much more to come. Then it happened. He woke to find the surface of the lake frozen. It was a thin layer. The dangerous kind. Enough to stop boating while not enough to ski on. This was the early winter time without travel.
“Well that’s all right for me!” said Calle, “I’ve got work in my fields before the frost. I’ve got stocks of woods to burn. A warm house to live in. Large containers for water to only challenge the ice now and then. Thank you. Thank you North Wind. Strong fearful love at first to the dancing joy of beauty of the snow falls. You taught me much. Your lessons I’ll remember to practice this year.”
He was even happier he hadn’t tried that long trip to the north west iron mountains. He might not even be returning yet. These crops might have been frost taken before he could get to them after that long trip.
Now he had great mounds gathered. Gathered for the equally tiring task of threshing.
So far he completely filled the seed stock ampohoras for hemp seeds, barley grains, rye grains and broad beans. Partially fill were the ones for nettle and flax. Peas also partially filled but since thats the food portion as it didn’t really seem good to plant peas anymore.
Checking the food portions hemp seeds, hemp leaves, barley grains and rye grains had great amounts for storing. There was a few pounds of broad beans left after filling the seeding amphora. From his travels and trades he had several bags and baskets. The food portions filled up as:
Barely a bag and half
Rey as two and three quarter bags
Hemp seeds as two bags plus two and a half baskets
Broad beans for food was only half a bag
Edible greens like nettle and heather came to over two hundred and fifty pounds
As for turnips… nearly six hundred were here!
With smoked meat in the courtyard granary and exterior granary he likely could squeeze through the winter without stepping far from the cabin. One or two reindeer would be good to add as meats though. Just to be sure.
<CALLE 122 Harvest inventory>>>
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Day 1 of the 4th week before winter season
It was now mid Fall month of the latter summer. Homesteads have a yearly clock. The harvest and the threshing are just some.
Calle turned over in his hands berries in the cellar. Crowberries from the early summer had spoiled and had to go before that spread to others. Experience taught him he should do something for the berries to last through the cellar winter. The only method known to him was to dry them. Their water would be driven out with the nutrition still contained. So dried the random things like fungus couldn’t easily start.
Thinking of the berries Calle went berry picking on his pennisula. He did want to get an animal but like the turn of a wheel each season has its priorities. Wild harvests gave you food without the need for ash turning, planting and guarding. Lingonberries while not his favorite raspberries did have a distinct taste he found rather run. These grew in many clusters within a short walk. On this day the lake waters laughed with waves. The ice was in its come and go dance.
Fur clad strolling to the fields his face pouted. A deep sigh left his lungs. Low on the soil the leaves of the second turnip plantings were crackled, limp and lifeless. The brief snows and frost had done them in.
“They say,” Calle said, “That you can get turnips twice in a year. I didn’t. For this seeds I’m sorry.”
He blew heather petals into the winds to mourn them.
Taller crops were still surviving. Those that looked ready he harvested. There would be a mix in getting the other stands. This year had been a busy time of turning ash over weeks and planting. Next year this plots would all be started early next spring. He would probably add ash turns each year. Like learning the habits of animals you hunt he was learning the plants.
Peas weren’t for him. Hemp though… and nettle. Those provided in many ways. Hemp seeds ground into a flour for his swirl breads. Both gave leaves that he was munching on balancing his diet and extending the meat. They also gave straws for crafting.
Pit traps were tended to. Resetting their covers and making sure the baits were waiting. As North Wind would silence the plants these baits would become more and more tempting. For now there was so much food in the forests it was unlikely animals would wander to here.
Sorting the final harvest gave a gentle feel to the land. Off to explore what berry patches were about. A nest of grouse eggs was seen and left untouched. He’d rather they grew into birds for meat. Blueberries amid spruce drew his attention. A few picked though he decided to move on for types he preferred.
“GARRRRAAARRRRR” a bear roared though the spruce.
<CALLE 123 Roar in spruce>>>
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Weapon check… bow in hand, arrows in quiver, river sword, axes and knives.
Defense check… oaken shield on his back, layered in cloth, leather and furs. Missing was the metal armor, battle bear cloak and bear overcoat. He was in a middle armor state.
That roar was close. His heart pounding he wasn’t sure from which trees the bear was.
Calle backed up watching the spruce. It could easily charge from another direction.
“All right,” Calle said, “These are your blueberries.”
No sounds. No roar. No foot prints. No spruce brushed by fur.
Calle steadied his breath. He turned south staying alert. A patch of heathland could yield preferred berries. Approaching a mix of bilberries and lingonberries a spruce sapling rolled over into fur.
A bear!
It was rolling over to waddle amid the berries.
Thinking Calle pondered. He must have startled it before. With lots of food around bears tended not to attack. Tended doesn’t mean never. It was content to move away to gather berries. Calle though began following with a broadhead notched.
Fire, miss. The bear’s head turns to the thud of the arrow into a spruce tree trunk. It knows someone is around.
Positioning for a long shot Calle fires. It goes skimming clipping needles to fall onto the bear. It turns and rushes him.
A frenzy attack getting the shield up. Pounds and swipes trading to the sword.
Howling roar of pain.
It came from Calle. The bear’s teeth tugging out of his left shoulder.
River sword cuts and slashes. Blood seeps from the bear’s abdomen. Cut legs give out.
Calle circles away. It can’t keep up.
“Porcupine time,” Calle says.
As he fetches his bows he begins the barrage of arrows. Pulling to fire Calle twists in the pain of the shoulder bite. This can’t be good for the wound. Crippled the bear drags after him. Fire, miss… miss… hit… more misses than hits. Arrows are fetched, fired, some go long.
Calle grabbed a large stone and hurled it at the bear with a thump into the ground beside it.
Finally by sword and arrow wounds countless the bear passes.
Calle looks to himself. A serious bite to his left shoulder. There is blood on his chest too from a shallow claw tear. His left upper arm is bruised from the pounding. No wonder he could hardly shoot.
Its a painful necessity to tend himself. Heather in the washing water and nettle in the binding bandage. He’d only brought two bandages, both were on his left arm. He’d redress the torso cut once back.
<CALLE 124 Bear brawling>>>
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“Preparation is all it takes to live,” said Calle.
They are close the Swan Cabin homestead. The smoke house ready means the meat can be treated. Medicines, food and water are in stock.
With his own made broad knife Calle is able to be more delicate in removing the fur. Its holes from the fighting are almost all small. The leg and abdomen hits are straight enough to be sewn up easily or just planned around. It will make a decent fur.
His left arm is in a sling when walking. It has to be out to butcher, work the hide and hang the meat to smoke. As tradition the teeth are pulled for their strength and the skull is hung from a pine tree. Calle wishes the bear spirit to enjoy the berries it was foraging for when they met.
It aches in his left arm. The wound of the bite worries him. He can clean it but it will surely scar.
Calle debates on the hide. Its looking good enough for trade. Though he could use good leather too. Its not a winter fur. The battle bear fur is pretty ragged. The ice is coming and going. Calle decides takes this to the lake. With rocks weighing it down he sets it to soak. He will dehair this one to become leather for large piece crafting. Later furs might not have the water access needed.
A day of tending to himself, the hides and meats.
Awakening at the dark of night Calle was off gathering when he saw an elk skeleton near the shore. He gathered the bones and antlers. How it died he didn’t know. The fish surely enjoyed the meat. Maybe it fell through the ice but that was a full summer ago. Ah! It tried crossing the recent thin ice and drowned.
A rock outcrop is nearby. Calle swims out a second time. Climbing up he makes a small warming fire. Undress he stands naked through the midnight hours. Nothing came to him. It wasn’t an ideal spot as it was a T shaped amount of land. He had stood on the tip of one arm with room enough for a fire beside him. It wasn’t quite like the lore given him. Hopefully they would appreciate he had tried.
He delivered the antlers and elk bones to Swan Cabin. They could be used in deep winter crafting. Strolling out in the dim small hours a reindeer glimpsed then it disappeared. Calle suspected that was the fields. Stalking over indeed it had been. The reindeer had been lured by a few of the unharvested turnips in what state they were. Then it had fallen to one the pits. That is two large animals caught close to the cabin!
Soon dispatched its hide is set to soak next to the bear. He like to have good stocks of leather for whatever projects would come. Part of him wished the bear was kept for fur now but really he had a whole stack of trade furs.
<CALLE 125 add a deer>>>
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Peaceful days again. Staying close to the cabin and fields to avoid new injuries until the current one healed. Cleaning with heather in water and binding with nettle on bandages brought him out safely. Amid the treatment he had taken one of the herbal blends when just quickly taking things to eat. His diet may have helped too. A mix of turnips; leaves and flowers from nettles, hemp, and flax; bits of smoked meat and most days roasted meats from fresh kills.
Local chores did have to be done. Daily stocking the smokehouse fire kept the bear and reindeer meat progressing to preserved. The reindeer’s hide had been worked through dehairing and tanning to useable. As his arm healed he worked on more iron building up stocks and bringing in wood for the smokehouse. There was a large store of wood by the main cabin. That was reserved for the deep winter.
Lingonberries grew on the pennisula in such quantities that several days of wild gathering hadn’t gotten them all. Calle was sure he could keep gathering form the forests farther out. They made a nice treat. Unless dried they filled you up too much without the other things the body needed. Dried as part of the mixed diet they did well.
It occurred to Calle to attempt the water spirit meeting. Not seeing a standing lone stone near Swan Cabin he hiked out along the north river system to the good fords he found. They were shallow spots of rock. As part of preparations he prepared to warm himself by building a shelter, making a fire ring, laying in a fallen log and preparing kindling.
He started the fire around the appointed time. Naked he went onto the nearby rock. He waited for hours. Numbing cold was starting to take his wet exposed body. He slid into the water the short distance to the still burning fire. He wasn’t sure if the water wasn’t deep enough, the time was wrong, the fire had scared them or that the spirits of this river just didn’t want to meet him. After all this wasn’t Swan Cabin’s lake where he lived.
Calle setup to try again. This second night he planned his timing better he hoped. With the fire making light near the shore a farther out rock was picked. Calle was still out there getting numbed and dazed. He felt a presence and still held himself shivering. He wasn’t almost as bad as struggling against North Wind when he fell through ice.
Calle turned himself to at least see the warm fire to give himself hope. There between him and the shore was a man with long black hair. The man was in the shallow water but not standing. He floated as if bent or without legs at all. He was looking to Calle and had been for some time. The man was smiling. An acknowledgment of the respect shown. Calle made the open hand signs of greeting and the man lifted a hand palm up then palm down into the water. Calle didn’t understand what that meant but it seemed friendly.
“Thank you,” Calle said, “For fish, for travel, for safety. Water spirits you are stronger than Calle. Thank you for letting me be among your waters. Now my body is that of a land thing. I need to go to my fire. Please do not be offended.”
Calle slipped into the water. The man swam closer steering for the rock Calle just left. Not understanding Calle climbed back onto it. The man than dove under the water… head… arms.. body… but thats all Calle saw in the moonlight.
Back into the water naked Calle went. He waded waist deep in the same waters. Pulling onto the shore he scrambled shivering arms and legs into the shelter next to the still blazing fire. Drying and dressing into fire heated clothes Calle curled up on spruce to sleep in the shelter.
Morning came with snow falling outside. To learn what the meeting met Calle took the land route to “Maiden’s Stream”. There Nyri, who he had traded a bow to, waved to him.
“Your bow has done me well,” Nyri said, “It needs an equal in arrows. You made fine broad heads too? Let me us trade. Those arrows for hunter teachings.”
Calle agreed.
Nyri explained a strange method. To carry a capercaiillie feather. When hunting a lynx when it first starts escaping on its very first escaping tracks to put the feather. The spirits will then burden the lynx to soon tire. These ways confused Calle but they were the ways of spirits not men.
Calle went on deeper looking for Herppa who had told him of how to meet the water spirits.
Herppa now told how to share hospitality with the water spirits. When the first fish of spring are caught out on a lake in open water to make a fish soup or boil them right after returning to shore. Leave the pot and give them space. Then the water spirit can come to try what you made. Sharing in a meal is part of the ancient traditions of hospitality.
Calle thanked him for his elder teachings.
<CALLE 126 water spirit>>>
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Maiden’s Stream homestead trade piles were stacked with a disturbing amount of armor. A mail harbegon, spectacle helm, another helm and more mail pieces. Shields and weapons as well as grains and meats. There was a decent looking wool overcoat that Calle admired.
Herppa explained, “We just met traders. One of their company passed away from eating bog mushrooms. They traded his goods for valuable furs to take him to his family. They just went north.”
Calle did catch up to them but once again none had anything of silver to spare. They confirmed the poison story.
Calle pointed out a spirit mushroom, “Those take you places. Most mushrooms don’t provide any where enough nutrition to be worth the risk of getting it wrong.”
Moving north another group of traders was on what Calle was understanding as a trade route. One called Bevisin had a silver necklace to trade but all of Calle’s furs were back at the cabin. Calle started hurrying to get them and return but it wouldn’t be in the same day.
“Woah hey!” shouted a man.
Calle was startled. His hand shifted for an arrow to notch. The man made the signs of peace.
“I am Herppa,” the man said, “Herppa the younger. Safe guarding these lands. Many foreigners about and they sometimes draw trouble behind them like when a wolf has caught the scent of a kill.”
“Trouble isn’t may name. I am Calle of Swan Cabin,” replied Calle making the signs of peace, “Yes there are many foreigners this time. Just passed two groups of them south of here.”
Calle decided to give them man a bowl he’d made while passing the hours to meet the water spirits. They departed peacefully.
Hurrying on to Swan Cabin the recent berries were set to dry. Importantly a greater amount of wood was put in the smokehouse. He needed to make up for having not tended it that day between the two overnights to meet the water folk.
A fox was caught in the paw trap, its winter coat already in. By the time that was skinned and the tanning started evening was starting. It would be risky to try to rush out in the darkness. Instead Calle went to bed early and rose in a few hours while it was dark. He trudged the stack of furs to Maiden’s Stream but couldn’t find the trader with the silver.
Called decided to trade away some of the lesser furs for the woolen overcoat. It would be warm without being as heavy as the bear overcoat. It wasn’t as protective but for around the cabin that should be fine.
In the morning Calle checked on chores.
He let out an angry howl.
He had forgotten about the bear leather. The leathering hide of a whole bear was ruined!
Calle paced along the shore. He had gotten distracted. Was it … a week over due? More than that. He really had no one to blame but himself. The reindeer hide had been dehaired as leather well enough. That bear leather he had planned for many big pieces for.
Calle took a breath then another. Had to focus on what’s working. The bear’s meat had been smoked up now. That was an important success. He had plenty of meat for deep winter. The reindeer was almost done.
Calle also decided that for the next while to travel with the more valuable small winter furs. Those might trade off a silver thing for the spirit ritual. Silver for that was a big thing on his mind that he was missing. Meeting the traders was uncommon but finding them with silver to trade was rare. He had see it offered only twice since his First Winter challenge. The other thing to try would be take more furs and seek the traders or maybe the Driik. Winter and skiing season was coming. Traveling meant carrying the skis or just wait until then.
For now Calle needed to focus. Crafting helped get his mind on producing. Back to the smithy. He began bonding steel to an iron shaft. Then flattening the steel to a rectangle, then flaring the corners, then twisting it for an even turn. This would be the cutting part of a drill. Attached to this would be the middle weight fly wheel, a top handle, cross bar and the cords. By twisting the top bar then pushing it down the steel would both turn and be pressed. A pump drill.
That drill was the tool needed for making a steel dome. Iron turned to steel pound over the hollowed stump and the iron anvil. Holes then worked in by the pump drill. It was a rather wobbly looking piece and he’d need a second.
Striding to rest his arm Calle saw across the lake an elk. He’d got a lynx at the same spot before. Circling the land Calle closed in only to result in two arrows onto the lake and one broken on a tree. Shaking arms shivered with frustration.
A determined wrath came over him to get the lake arrows. Circling the lakeshore back to the cabin he brought the punt down to the water. With his hand axe he smashed the thin ice inch by inch into yard by yard. Slowly the punt crept through the band of forming ice into the central lake where the waves still lapped. From here he recovered at least two of the arrows.
Shifting around he saw the elk again.
Gritted teeth and glaring eyes shined as he chipped ice to beach the punt on that shore. He stalked again on the shore pinned elk, fired and the arrow broke.
A strange idea came to him. It would be his strangest hunt yet.
He slide quietly as he could to the peak of land the animals kept trying to cross at it. He crouched among the trees and just waited. A blind spot to them. Half an hour went when the elk bawled, probably smelling him it was that close. Calle fired and missed. The elk trotted away.
Calle slipped back nearby to a different hiding spot. He waited. He hummed tunes in his mind. He waited.
Before him the green spruce turned brown. The brown of the elk’s fur!
He raised but they were so close he hadn’t got he bow fully up when his instincts said to shoot as the elk had seen him too. It scarred a leg badly squirting blood. Confused where to run and flopping a leg Calle swung up not his bow but a leg and kicked out. He kicked it again and again. The battering, startled, wounded confused elk took several before making for a path out of the pocket. It flopped now dragging its hind quarters. Calle pulled out his round headed smithing hammer to smash its skull once and twice to be done.
Now he crossed through his cuts to take the skin back to start dehairing to replace the lost bear hide. The next day two more crossings were needed. Each time he had to chip the ice at each shore. The freezing was quickening indeed!
Into the smokehouse the elk meat went. The reindeer meat had finished. Calle’s food stocks would be quite deep now.
<CALLE 127 shore elk>>>
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Continuing to work Calle was debating the well or water collector in the courtyard again. One reason for it is to have lot of water for major hide work. Really running water is better and lake volumes second. The risk had happened of not checking the lake shore at the right times. The courtyard water would avoid that. However, there is another way. At the table workstation he put the large elk bones. They were there to remind him to check the shore.
Next in smithing was an auger. That’s the name he knew for it. Its a larger drill for big holes like the thickness of man’s thumb. The kind for structural work with pegs hammered in. Like the pump drill it needed a steel cutting head, then a shaft but this time to a circle at the top of the shaft. In there would go a cross bar for the high torque turns. The drill was small and fast while the auger was large and slow.
“Build your tools,” Calle said.
He pumped the bellows onto the forge’s coals. Metal heated, hammer sang on anvil, eyes studied shapes and blows were struck again. The crossbar auger came to be.
That night was the fall equinox. Dirt month had begun.
A fancy took him to change the trail markers for the smoke house to hare bone stands. He had so many of them now. Then he realized they were so small the snow would hide them. So he changed them to elk rib bones.
Day 3 of the 13th week before midwinter
At noon Calle pulls the leather straps secure on the knee cups. Each a steel dome from a plate given a sphere with the hammering in the stump hollow and anvil, the pump drill to make mounting holes then bird leather to make the securing straps.
Deciding to do a test dressing Calle laughs. He had bought better knee cups than he made. He laughs.
“Well,” Calle chuckled, “I can sell these then and make elbows.”
Calle rubbed his head. He was trying to make the best of the mistake. Lonliness, isolation had a toll. If someone else was around they likely would have pointed this out much sooner.
A few days of hot smithing saw Calle often just sleep outside at the forge. Finally he had made the elbow cups, coudes as some foreigners call them. The same idea as the knee cups just smaller. A fist shape with a dome over the joint center and the tail flaring on the side.
Now he did the test dressing for battle. Battle damaged spectacle helm, mail mittens, battle won lamellar torso, bought knee cups and made elbow guards worn with the bear overcoat and battle bear cloak. This over other furs, leather and cloth. Its great weight felt secure inside.
“Like a turtle that stuffed the inside of his shell with fur than put a fur wrap on,” Calle laughed.
Now what dangerous adventure might he try?
<CALLE 128 Armor dressing>>>
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(OOC: Calle being continued on a 3_80 with BAC build.)
Calle felt a shift in the woods. It would be hard to say what it meant. Needing silver for the ant hill ritual was gnattering like a squirrel in a nearby by tree. It wasn’t vital but it was there. The woods at times seem to have a hint of darkness in the shadows more than there had been before.
Studying his homestead the view out the north window to the smoke house was decent though one spruce prevented seeing the whole wall. Reluctant to feel trees near the home was slackening in its firmness. Once down they won’t come back for decades. Calle decided to bring spruce down. Now from the safety of the house he could see the smokehouse’s south window.
Day 7 of the 12th week before midwinter
This morning Calle stocked the smoke house fire once again. Once it was glowing he checked the meats. It actually had dried with the smoke covering preserving it from the filth that rotted them. The elk meat was done then. That was the last ongoing chore. He was free to travel a time. Following the rotation plan the previous meat, from a reindeer, was moved to the courtyard cellar. The recently made elk smoked meats were then the new reserve in the outer cellar.
Heavy rains gave a feeling to stay close for a few days yet. A few more broad head arrows were assembled and a long bow finished. At the forge he restored to billet an aborted shape of iron and an unused steel dome. Both hadn’t come out quite right. Even rusting material can be worked back to a billet and shaped anew.
Called strolled around the lake circling south. At a narrow junction he debated setting a pit trap but didn’t have his shovel with him. Calle decided to return with his shovel setup two such narrows for occasional trapping. A night out in the bush was needed for that. With his layers of fur and armor Calle was quite warm. A check on the punt at the south rivers was done finding it as before needing to be cleaned out of small critters.
During these he was carrying several of the better trade furs. Light ones of higher trade wealth. This was in the hopes of meeting traders. So far that hadn’t happened.
<CALLE 130 south walk>>>
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Day 4 of the 11th week before midwinter point
Calle was strolling back up the west side of Linenfell lake. With no snow covering he might bog for a few more ores to work over the winter. For now the spirits seemed to call him back to the cabin.
“Check and fix up the traps every few days,” father had told him.
It proved to be good advice. There swaying out of pit trap at the west fields were the antlers of bull elk. Approaching happily Calle pondered now if after this he should disarm the traps a while. Kneeling at the tracks in what was once mud from rain Calle guessed the tracks were a day old.
Without stakes these pits injured legs snaring big ones alive for days until found. Spiked pits were far more dangerous with the meat often spoiling as blood loss claimed the life.
Calle began the laboring task to skin, quarter, tan and smoke the elk. It took over a day process. The hide process would take a few days with this elk giving up a thick elegant hide surely worth trading. Two weeks is the amount of time to smoke meat in the smokehouse. If he as was going to travel he really did need to disarm the pit trap.
Strolling first to the east fields… another beast thrashed in a pit. A reindeer this time. Calle flopped his arms up and down. He had enough meat! He wanted to travel. Shaking his head he chuckled.
“Thank you Swan for the great bounty,” he said, “I have enough now. Its okay for months.”
The reindeer joined the elk at the smokehouse and tanning table. Now he’d have to stay around here for two weeks to tend the smokehouse. Calle hoped he could get more bog iron to add to the bits still at the forge. He took over the metal armors, bear layers, the large axes and traveling things. All the extra weighed a hundred pounds on its own. How much more would it be if he ever got the chain mail the richest warriors strode around in?
Calle went to the fields and disarmed their pit traps. He didn’t want to anger the spirits with wasting food.
<CALLE 131 elk end reindeer>>>
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Waking Calle noted the moon height made it nearly midnight. Strolling his cabin he started a fire in the sauna room and in the main room’s fireplace. To the yard room cellar he went next. The lid was secure on the cellar. Lifting it up he sniffed finding no signs of rotting foods. Restoring the lid Calle weighed it down and patted to make sure it was secure again. Winter would come soon. He had months of food here to keep himself sheltered from North Wind.
Following the elk bones to the smokehouse a fresh smoking fire was started. Here even more food was ready. If it was just him at the Swan Cabin homestead, as it was, this would go on into spring.
A sense of belonging led him to check on the nearby shore then the fields. There the guard traps were down save for one pit he had missed. This he disarmed. It would be unwise to kill game he didn’t need. Catching one would mean either smoking it or trading it. Perhaps he would trade with the villages he came to know.
It amused him near the pit were a few lingonberry bushes still dotted with their gift. He gathered a few and nibbled. Dawn’s small hours crept into the sky. Such as it would be for this time of year the sun’s dance was so short lived. Amid the broad moon’s light the clouds began to a gentle dance of fluttering snow. Their white sways reminded Calle of the swan that had guided him to choose this area to settle in. It had been some time since he had seen the Swan Spirit.
“Are you guiding another traveler?” Calle asked, “Swan maidens never stay for long they say. You were a blessing to me and made my life better. Come visit me when it is your whim to do so.”
Scooping up more berries he remembered to leave the forest their share as in the “dish with one spoon” teaching. There might always be another, human or animal, that desperately needed that last bit of food.
Making his way back he turned to check the outdoor work space. There the fence, kiln and forge sat along with stores of material like charcoal. Roasted ores awaited smelting. A task he could do amid the warmth of forge fire on a cold winter day.
A few more steps took him to the outdoor cellar. He disarmed a trap to pass within the ring safely. Here had been his first lean-to shelter while he built the cabin. In this cellar the smell of faint rot was felt. A few cuts of elk he pulled out.
“Bait,” Calle said, “I left you here as future bait. I’ll hang you in a tree away from the cellar foods.”
The rest of the outdoor cellar was in good order. Leaves for herbs and medicines along with the stock of planting seeds for the spring. Over two hundred smoked elk cuts were tucked in and over two hundred turnips. A few more months of food then. Having some out here meant if some disaster did happen to the yard-cellar there was enough food to live on with. All told Calle estimated six months of food.
The real question was would should Calle do now?
It is day 1 of the 10th week before midwinter.
<CALLE 132 day 1 of the 10 to midwinter>>>
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OOC:
Still debating whether to play again. I've certainly had a lot of fun and learning with Unreal World.
With a character well established like Calle is now not really sure what direction to take him if any. Never been one to want to massacre the Nerjpez. Pure survival is well in hand with 6 months of food, a homestead, fields and the surrounding lands both known and dotted with shelters.
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One chore did come to mind: stockpiling firewood.
Fetching up the sledwagon Calle pulled it behind as trundled into the forests. With the slushy waters using watercraft to collect from afar could go badly. This was a safer choice though with far more labour.
“Dying is easy it’s living that’s hard,” recited Calle.
Three trees on the way to to north west fields were taken. On the way red mushrooms were spotted. These Calle knew were poisonous. To protect future dwellers he set branches around each find and burned them out. On return to the homestead an arctic fox was snared near the smokehouse. A good addition to the trade furs, bait for homestead traps and a hot meal once the rest was roasted.
His day and the next went into treating the arctic fox fur and finishing up an elk and reindeer fur.
The third and fourth day was simple: tanning hides, finding new small game in traps this time grouse, tanning those and building up wood stocks by the house and smokehouse. Smokehouse’s fire was continued. To thank the spirits lingonberries were dotted about.
Over ninety blocks of wood sat in the wood pile outside the house door. In the work piles over a hundred boards were ready for crafting or if needed burning. Then there was the piles already inside the by house’s fireplace, by the sauna and in the smokehouse.
Food was plentiful, firewood was plentiful, shelter was sturdy and water would come from the lake to be stored in the casks and amphora. Calle truly felt ready for the next time North Wind came looking to test the people and choose those to join the forever dance in the ice palace.
After a stroll to the hill tops and eastern coast Calle came back to the cabin. There was also many straws that could become thread and weaving. Perhaps this winter would see that chore done as well. One day he may have a wife, or the swan maiden, to share such work. Certainly the company would be good to talk with.
<CALLE 133 wood stocks in>>>
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In his main cabin room Calle does ponder the dangers. North Wind is known to be a friendly dancer if you respect that they are stronger than you. Bears though. Bears could be a danger. With all his food stocks bears might come. It is time then to apply a teaching from Beodrin Two-bears.
Triple log bear trap made by hoisting each on a pole all lashed together. This giant tripod waits with meat tied to the lashing. It takes something strong like a bear to move the lashing which pulls the poles letting fall the great logs.
With his sledwagon its a moderate chair rolling onto a second day. His real limit is the rope strength ties. He does have enough for one. His trade stocks though are full of furs for trading and his bed had a spare rope. That first bear trap goes up between the cabin and the smoke house where he can see it from a window. Checking around his cabin Calle finds his tool stocks which is thankfully littered with leathery bird skins and a large dehaired elk hide. There is even some leather ropes here! A definite issue then is how the piles get in a small cabin. Its like his mind had been away in another world forgetting where things were.
For the next bear trap after felling two more trees near the fields Calle remembers the saying, “Seek for the forest may provide.” Going near his look out hill several fallen tree trunks are found. They are in various states of fresh to decay. As a weight for the trap these will do nicely. For its binding birch bark harvested in the right season has been waiting for a use. Twisting it into a rope takes time. Time he has in the season of fall slush. Soon the second bear trap is up slightly closer to the smokehouse. Both can be seen as can various medium predator traps. Spoiled meats left near the cellar are moved over. It is hoped those will draw the predators, foxes to bears, into that kill zone.
It may be boring to think only of chores. That is price of success. Its not a desperate time shivering in hopes a clumsy trap catches a clumsier critter for a single day of food. Being able to focus on improving only comes from having prepared so well.
“Well for the glory of chores!” laughs Calle.
His hands go into twisting birch-bark into ropes. A good stock may be needed for future tasks where decent is good enough. With a chuckle he fashions two sets of birch bark slippers for use inside the cabin. Hopefully the Swan Maiden or a lady guest will use the second pair!
By the time he stops in a couple of days nearly 200 feet of birch bark rope is hung up. Each day the smokehouse fire was reborn. Those meats were coming along well.
Day 3 of the 9th week before midwinter
Having finished the birch rope Calle took a walk in the crisp air to the northwest fields. Perhaps some work could be done there. It felt right to check on it. A small test burn was started to see if the soil could be turned in this Dead Month.
While the burned the sun edged over the woods not even a quarter of hits full disc. In the near lake ice there was a hole. Curious Calle moved along the shore being sure to stay off the ice. The tracks of a small elk were seen. Perhaps it had gone exploring the ice. It wasn’t a big hole. Perhaps it went in and got out again? Reviewing the tracks they lead onto the shore.
All the traps in this area were disarmed. Bait was left on them. There was plenty of turnips for the spring baiting. New meats would come from birds or other catches sure to come near the cabin. Perhaps he could have caught this elk. He didn’t need the food, leather nor fur. It was better bonding with the woods to leave life in the place.
Leaving the numerous baits out over the winter was also a way to be a grand gift back to the forest spirit. Game animals would still know to come here for food. Once the fields were planted what did get taken was less than the meat the game caught would give. There is a wisdom to over planting crops so that you can hunt and trap meat from the field.
The ash fires finished burning. Testing the ground found even the iron shovel unable to make a worthy go. Only the very thinnest dirt near the fire could be shifted. Perhaps though he could stock up firewood and stakes for the spring.
In the darkening winter even the early winter grew to a cloud of barely seeing. At Swan Cabin the current eating plan continued. Nettle leaves, hemp leaves, heather flowers and uncooked turnip supporting smoked meat cuts. Diverse sources in quantity making his body strong and mind pleased.
A grunt ruffled the darkness.
“Ah!” Calle said, “Is that you young elk?”
Stepping outside the snow held in its grip the young elk’s tracks from earlier in the day. This was right next to the porch. The woods seemed determined to gift Calle or was this a test?
There weren’t any pit traps here, the kind Calle used for elk.
Still he should check. It may have gotten hurt in the various defense traps.
“Cracked boards!” Calle blurted out.
The second bear trap had tipped over pinning the elk.
Calle ponders his place here. This is another chunk of meat that he doesn’t need. It is right here. It is very tempting. What is his place here? To bring down all he can?
Calle shakes his head.
Swan Maiden wouldn’t have led such a man here.
Sushing and humming to keep the elk knowing of him he pushed and heaved on a tree trunk of the trap. Big brown eye of that side of the young elk looked at him. Bursting in its own strength the elk calf got clear.
Calle called out, “Be free! Come back when you’re bigger! You can stay then! Tell your friends.”
He laughed a long chortle of bellows.
Come morning the forest had gifted a bird in a trap. This Calle accepted. A small fresh meal.
Now concerns for an accident on the ice Calle went about preparing to improve the safety fences. He had put a few to the west by the north west fields to stop a rushed westward run. Swan Cabin being on a peninsula it was possible to get to the water that way too. With plenty of birch-bark in stock he twisted length of cord, not rope, thicknesses for use. Many were done when movement went by the window.
It was an elk cow!
Had she come as the mother of calf?
Calle laughed. Was this the same elk spirit coming back bigger like he said?
Stepping out he wanted to guide here away. The snow obvious tracks led though to the calf! Even over an hour later it was still here. It moved around the shore. The mother wasn’t in sight. Called shifted his position to guide it inland. It really didn’t want to go west!
Was Swan Cabin now in the middle of an elk migration path?
Shrugging his shoulders Calle went back to the planned chore. As he adjusted the safety fence to the east the elk motion ceased to be heard. There was no signs of broken ice. Hopefully the family pair had found their way along. Hopefully the spirits understood this. Calle felt they would.
It felt strange yet needed to set up fences a short distance from the predator traps. Calle hoped these would guide future elk away from harm. There had to be spaces still for the predators. They target animals could circle in drawn to the bait.
On his next wake the darkness was deep for hours in what would normally by the small hours. There was no sun and no moon. Calle stumbled failing to even get the fires going as he couldn’t see enough to work. Wrapping up in the furs again he waited for a few hours to pass. On the moonless days of each month in winter this would be a challenge!
The dark shroud was only a few days. Then either sun or moon was aiding the living again.
Simple chore days of working on fences by the north west field were well fed by fresh catches of birds and hares. These smaller game Calle accepted. He ate them freshly roasted.
Around the fields en elk passed, darting when it saw Calle. He was fairly sure this was a different elk. With the pits disarmed the elk could see what to avoid. As well as being fair with the spirits Calle didn’t want to trap himself to weeks of the smokehouse tending. The current batches were moving along well.
Day 2 of the 8th week before midwinter
Finally the smoking is done. The elk and reindeer are shifted into the outer cellar. That’s the one just south of the cabin in the original cellar-shelter ringed area. With all the birds and hares caught only a few pieces of smoked meat from before had been eaten. This homestead was very good at providing. Thanks of course to the Swan Maiden and Calle’s willingness to follow the spiritual teachings of grandfather.
With the ground frozen with thin snow Calle took the bright days to wander the wood now. With the sledwagon he gathered fallen trees. Into his pack went lingonberries still in their late season.
Calle’s mind was stirring. He could build around the north porch to make it a snow room. Where it would be the main entrance with the cold and wet person closing the outer door, removing wet things and only then proceeding to the warmer interior. This would take perhaps 50 trees. Another project would be to convert the outdoor work area to having the half walled structure that was preferred. A roof to work under to stop rain landing on hot work. Walls to limit the winds yet open enough for lots of air flow to clean out smoke. That would take 80 to 100 trees. There was also weaving that could be done but that wasn’t his favorite thought.
Calle laughed.
<CALLE 134 smoking done>>>
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Starting the gathering of many trees for the building Calle debates on which types to use. Spruce is slightly stronger with pine more durable. For this work Calle will use pine. Swan Cabin sits with good edge affects, the mixing of different terrain. The lichenous pine forest to the northwest will be the source of harvest.
A glutton is snuffling about in the woods. Its thick fur and long claws quite distinctive. Calle paused his work briefly. It snuffled then moved around in its area. It wasn’t hungry enough to attack a person. The whacking on wood must of disturbed it. Calle was confident the Swan Cabin predator traps would keep him safe.
These days of thin snow with frozen ground were good for sled pulling. Skis weren’t needed yet letting him push his feet hard for good power. Where he found poison redlegger mushrooms he burned them out. Tree trunk gathering for a few days was going well. This was a productive time to bring them in. Then he could work near the cabin warmth to shape them properly. Having a sledwagon was very helpful!
On this day he was gathering a third load of tree trunk on the same day. On this third outing he spotted the red dots of lingonberries. Just north of here they hadn’t been seen making Calle pity he had set so many to dry by the cabin fireplace, for preservation. He wanted some for trap baiting. Well here just a little south the lingon bushes were still waiting. It was growing dark quickly as it does this time of year. Two pounds worth were fetched into pockets. He came back in the silver colors of the half moon. Crisp icicles formed on his clothing furs dripped away once he was back at his bed near those drying berries.
Once enough trees were gathered for the planned snow room expansion there was still good season for gathering more. These were now being piled by the outdoor workshop.
Water being a source of life is tended to. Though the amphora is full it hasn’t been changed in some time. Calle takes it big clay vessel along with the cask and buckets to the lake. The water is poured out and the inners scrubbed with snow. Once cleaned they were refilled. Taken back to the cabin they would be good in case the presence of North Wind dancing blizzards should block him in.
As another preparation a portion of the blocks of drying firewood are moved into the inner courtyard. North Wind is more powerful than you. You can dance with her but you must respect her. When she decides to dance don’t go out with her without your protections. Her greatest coldest dance will beyond even the greatest protections you can muster. Those days just stay inside.
Moon and sun in late Dead month moved in a strange dance. The gathering by sled would go well when there was light. Days of both in the sky would be followed by work only by moonlight. That moonlight depending on how much of the moon was showing.
Snow was now fist deep on the ground. Standing still the snow just crested the top of his feet. He could still pull the sled without skiis. There was though a slow draining fatigue now to walk. Within a moon this would be deeper making motion without skiis burdening.
Calle spoke, “Dead month, the time of dead plants. For those with a sledwagon a time to gather the dead trees else fell them to make them dead. A great gather can be brought in this way. Wood for fires, building and crafting.”
Before the end of Dead month Calle figured on having enough tree trunks for both the expanded porch and workshop. A few more to make floor and roof boards plus a stack of spares, to offset any of pre-fallen he rejects as unsuitable. Slender trunks in number were in for bracing poles. Soon the preparation of trunks to logs would begin, right next to the safety of Swan Cabin.
From under his bed Calle slid out the skis and ski poles. Bringing them to the table he laid them down. He began rubbing on remains of fat trimmings to reseal the wood and leather. He stacked them near the door to dry before use.
<CALLE 135 tree trunks in>>>
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Day 4 of the 7th week before midwinter
End of Dead Season
Stepping out of the cabin to the cool air with a noon sun that shows only half its bright disc Calle hoisted Truth Cutter out of belt. Its masterwork steel edge gleamed from its recent sharpening. Eyeing the many trees brought in during dead month now was logging time. Bark and chips fly into the air.
In the days of logging Calle whittled together an elk calf. One for telling the story of the one he let go. A squirrel and ongoing bird captures kept adding fresh meat the well balanced diet of smoked meats, leaves, flowers and turnips. Daily fires in the cabin’s over fireplace kept heat emanating
Day 7 of the 5th week before midwinter
The fitting out of the snow room is complete. With good fortune no major storms had come during the building.
It added almost half the space of the main room. This space would give places for new piles for sorting. The trade furs would come here. Without a fireplace it would get cooler even cold. Most important though is it things could dry out here and snow could be shaken off before going into the main living cabin.
Calle gave it two doors, one to the lake for water and the other to the smokehouse. Shutters were on each of three exterior walls. The now inner wall to the main cabin has its original door and window. The snow room could get light from many directions or air flow if desired.
Calle also hoped the Snow Maiden or a lady love would appreciate the snow room catching all the mud from Calle’s boots!
<CALLE 136 snow room complete>>>
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A simple table was stood up in the snow room. With all the light approaches it could be a decent workspace, should the weather and clothing be warm enough. Plus it would act as a draining table for very snowing things. Small holes were made then fitted with pegs for more drying and hanging spots.
Day 1 of the 4th week before winter, Winter Month
Awakening after midnight arms pushed through the static strains of healing from the many days of building the snow room. There was no sun of course. At the moment there was no moon. It was so dark all Calle could manage was to find one of the small blocks of wood next the bed. He began whittling feeling the wood as much as seeing it.
Deep darkness persisted into what would be the small hours. Patting rain began to fall. It would melt the snows a little. It was pleasing to know the snow room’s roof was already complete.
He decided to finish the whittling as a stag elk. It wasn’t his best work being done in the dark but decent enough. He put it next to the cow elk and calf figurines. A little family of the forest.
The dark continued.
A turnip and smoked meat form his pack became breakfast. Knowing his way around his own cabin Calle used the water cask to refill his water skin and canteen. Moving into the snow room he pulled up onto the table. This table was added as a workplace in what could be more lit but there was no light outside.
Peering out a shutter he looked to the sky. Clouds were known by the absence of stars form the sky. Star groups appeared briefly as the unlit clouds shifted. Rain pattered down. It seemed sad. Yet Calle felt a soft pride. He was in a durable cabin that had already survived a winter. It was now even larger. The main room, sauna, snow room and inner courtyard. Different places he could be to avoid the sense of being confined in to small a place.
His quest had begun in a challenge to survive a winter on his own not to far from his village. Had he come back too soon it would show he wasn’t ready for a great quest. In the stories told a serious injury was fair reason to come back as was deep sickness. It was allowed to try again but not many would. A few died with bodies found. A few became mysteries perhaps taken by the forest spirits or by the Nejrpez raiders or to try their lives far away. A few made it through their first challenge as Calle had.
Having made his way here, guided by the Swan Maiden, built a cabin and now expanded it was a success. Villages might start this way. Once one homestead was viable another might join then another.
Calle leaned into the corner of the snow room from up on the table. He began reciting the songs of his people and retelling a tales. Half an hour passed when the rain stopped. The light was faint enough to see a few arm lengths. At least he could safely start a fire in the oven place.
Now as light spread from the peeking sun he got to work. The unused logs and tree trunks from the snow cabin work were moved. The fist deep snow now had a crust from the rain freezing. It was a challenge to crunch in and crunch out of it. This would not have been a good time for walk pulling a sled of trees any long way. Here he could rest near or in the cabin as needed. Pulling the logs on the sled from one side of the cabin to another with crusted snow was strain enough!
“Each month has a name telling what to do,” Calle recited, “Winter is homestead work, crafting and perhaps skiing to friends along the rivers.”
He began the work for the open workshop. He planned an L of walls with posts to hold up the far side. This would keep rain off while letting air in and smoke from the hot work.
A few days in the half moon was in the sky and a quarter sun. The clouds were thick but not dropping their blessings. As Calle was working on a wall the wind began to howl. His ears perked. Looking this way and that he was sure he heard the sound of North Wind. She was beginning to move here on her visit from the Ice Palace.
Snows were common now. Winds swirled as North Wind danced. This was the early times. Calle’s clothing was well matched to the challenge. Heavy labor also warmed him. North Wind’s glimmering dances were a joy when you are prepared. It reminded Calle of being in the village when the men were working while girls danced happily nearby.
This did make setting the workshop walls challenging. It was for an open design making the uneven results tolerable. As the ground would frost, melt and heave it would bend the lay of the roof to come. Without fully enclosing walls it only mattered if the water would be kept out.
Day 4 of the 3rd week before midwinter
Snow had grown to calf deep well covering that icy crust. It was sluggish walking. Working at the homestead he never had to go far. If he did it would be time for the skis and ski pole that sat waiting in the snow room.
The excess of trees brought Calle now planned to hook a short third wall to make the workshop C shaped. That would help contain the winds tossing snow around. It would also anchor the long wall and long roof better.
Day 7 of the 3rd week before midwinter
Still at work on the workshop C wall. For first time Calle feels cool not warm. North Wind has thickened the world with snow. Icicles hang from the snow covered spruce trees. He will dress warmer now to avoid becoming one too! From his adventuring pile he pulls out the bear fur overcoat. This will do nicely! When North Wind dances you must be prepared or be chosen to stay in the ice.
Day 4 of the 2nd week before midwinter, Early Center month
The workshop enclosure is done. It had been a week of hard labor only possible by the preparation of the stocked homestead. Snowed came time and again taking clearing it away. The uprights for the roof sat on frozen ground would need adjusting after each spring thaw. Adjusting the cross spars and shingles would be simple enough with the sturdy C layout now used.
Calle’s heart felt proud of the work. Both winter build projects were complete!
Center month had come. Full of the intense dances of North Wind. Deep cold will have taken to the rivers and lakes. Now one could ski along them better than overland roads.
From the yard cellar dried berries were pulled out. Double helping to celebrate.
<CALLE 137 workshop completed>>>
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Day 5 of the 2nd week before midwinter, Early Center month
A proud smile was on his face. Snow fell in the cold air deepening the layers even more Noe of it landed on Calle for he stood under the roof of the workshop. Sheltered on three sides the harsh winds didn’t whip the heat off him. His furs layers topped by the bear overcoat let him withstand the dance with North Wind. He stood testing his preparation. Without the roof and walls the half hour would have drawn him to feel cool. Now his own body heat was held in to be just comfortable. This is what made him proud.
Through the missing east wall, it just being posts, was the beauty of winter. Having applied the lessons for winter life the harsh male aspect of North Wind had transformed into womanly beauty. A two spirit being may change its appearance but that is only so your heart can better see its natural state of being. The world is full of things that are between man and woman, light and dark, left and right or good and evil. This too is a teaching of the two spirited things.
“I see you North Wind,” said Calle, “and you are beautiful.”
With that he put kindling into his bloomery furnace. Striking rough iron on flint sent a spark that began the dance of fire. Adding charcoal, in good supply from earlier seasons, began heating a lump of roasted ore. Pumping bellows into the bloomery fed the coal fire for the densest heat man had yet learned to make. By shovel the coals were pushed in as the inner ones burned away. In time the ore puddled into a bloom. Pounding the hot bloom with a hammer began drove out more of the impurities.
A lunch of leaves, mostly hemp right now, turnips and smoked meat fueled his own fire. These being restocked from the cellars. His wooden canteen and waterskins kept within his furs let his body heat kept them from freezing. These were restocked from the cask and amphora in the cabin, kept near the oven place for the same reason of not freezing. It had been weeks since he had to chip through the ice to get lake water.
“Preparation is all it takes to live,” repeated Calle.
With his preparation of the workshop pleasant deep winter days were spent under the workshop roof making blooms. A lot of ore had been collected and roasted in the warm seasons. This was run through the bloomery. Along the way the predator traps guarding the area had the snow brushed off then their triggers reset.
Day 3 of the last week before winter, early Center month
The last bloom cools in the winter air. Roughly twenty pounds of bloom wait to join the two pounds of billets waiting to find their shape.
<CALLE 138 blooms done>>>
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Day 4 of the last week before winter, Center month
Pounding a heated bloom at the forge refining the metal continued. He had days work to convert over the bloom to workable iron. He started to think of what to make. To be the smith of the north he should be making for the villages near and far. Weapons came first to mind though is that really what is needed? Iron pots would bring life through the cooking. An iron shovel is far more efficient than a wooden one for those turning fields. The reindeer herders don’t make fields but they uses for digging too don’t they? Perhaps pits for waste. These could be good things to make for life. Axe heads and knives were tools as much as weapons.
The next day billets of iron were fused together. Heated and pounded to weld. One for the bottom and four around in a great circle. The shape turned around on the anvil horn to bend, then bend next to it and so on to make the bowl of the pot. He let it have four small nubs he stretched into short legs, better for balancing in coals. One part of the lip he bent like a triangle for pouring out liquids. He punched the top through in two pieces. To this a yarn of iron was turned out bent through and bent to hook creating a handle. A fine pot for homestead’s cooking fire.
Holding the work up Calle put out lingon berries as a gift to the spirits. The sacrifice of thanks done most days to show respect, with berries or leaves or other foods. Sharing the cycle of life.
Pushing through the knee deep snow back to the door he kept close to his regular path. It was a little more worn though the old footsteps iced in places. To the cooking pot he bought he bought long ago. It was a simpler design without the inspired trimmings.
Calle laughed, “The homested for you new pot is this one!”
He would take pride cooking with the fine iron pot he made himself. The original would go the trade goods. The next day a newly made iron headed shovel and small knife joins it. Being almost midwinter Calle looks to spend a few days visiting a local village.
In the morning the skis were finally put on. Using the lakes and rivers as easy paths he came to the nearest people, the homestead of “Maiden’s Stream”. Aune, a Kaumolais woman known to him, is the first person he speaks to in months.
“Who is it that comes from the woods,” she called.
“Calle,” he called back.
“I though it might be you,” she said, “but one is good to be sure. Come. You’ve missed the midwinter night and its dawn was this morning. We still have our decorations up.”
Calle’s head dipped and a frown on his face. Somewhere in his isolation he had misjudged the passing of days.
“You aren’t are only guest,” Aune said, “A wounded man. Come share the hearth.”
Sampsa came along from his chores guiding Calle in, “Glad to see you alive in the winter. Neither North Wind nor Swan Maiden has taken you to other realms.”
“The former I’d protest,” grinned Calle, “The latter not so much.”
They laughed together.
“To the kotta my friend,” Sampsa’s arm swayed, “Tornia is in there.”
Calle knocked the snow from his leg furs as they listened to Tornia. It had been another case of a bear attack. Few things would attack a man in the woods. Wolves or bear the most common. A pack of hungry wolves is not so often escaped. A bear though might have its own thoughts other than killing you. Scared, protecting young or avenging some wrong you or the people in general had done to the woods.
Tornia added, “It was north west from here.”
Calle and Sampsa turned to look at each other. That was the direction of Swan Cabin!
“A couple of miles,” Tornia said, “On heathland so I could have a frozen puddle to chip to water. I used spruce from the coniferous forest to its south to make the shelter.”
Sampsa said, “It is a bear you must contend with. Surely this falls to you.”
Calle stroked his cheek.
“Yes,” Calle said, “That is to decide it. I am not sure if it will be killed in battle, this bear. There are heavy traps at my cabin. They might decide it.”
Tornia stammered, “You’re not going to let it go? After it did this?”
Calle took in a breath, “Two years ago my heart would have insisted on battle. Now wisdom speaks many words. Why did it attack? Why did it leave? Is it right or wrong it should live. Who might die hunting it? Shall the spirits calm it or is it a sickness of their world we need to set right. I ask these things for wisdom says to ask. The answer will come after asking.”
Tornia scowled while Sampsa looked confused.
Tornia looked up, “My precious handaxe was given to me in my test of winter years ago. Do you know of this quest?”
“Yes,” Calle said, “I won mine. A proof before I came here.”
Calle stood up. Both the others turned to look at him.
“My journey today is about life,” Calle said, “With a pot, shovel and knife not with weapons. I will not hunt this bear. I will make offerings to the forest to calm it. Bears do not eat axes. It is then that when you are well you might… showing respect… return to your camp. Remember this. The axe is not the greatest thing your father gave you. It is the wisdom of the ways. Think on this and put it in your heart.”
Calle turned away. Tornia brows furled with tears forming in his eyes.
Sampsa whispered, “Calle isn’t the same. He has stayed in a cave of the old ones and met a green beard.”
Aune entered through the flap of the kotta, “Feeding time for the wounded.”
Calle stepped out. Sampsa followed holding up a winter bear fur, the extra thickness of fur making it abundantly fluffly.
“You mentioned goods,” Sampsa said.
They began to barter for the excellent fur. Whether Calle would craft with it or save it for trading to foreigners he wasn’t sure. He traded over the pot, shovel and small knife for most of the payment. Then stacks of smoked bear and dried berries he brought, which would be shared in the celebration. A leather rope and one of the fine broadhead arrows from his quiver.
They spent the rest of the day and night in the cabin telling stories. Tornia was led in to join them a while. The children were especially happy to munch on the dried berries. Even in the morning the time sharing together resumed.
Traveling northwest home Called avoid rapids by skiing into the woods. Near this crossing he saw a man tending his own skiis.
“Greetings,” Calle said.
The man leaned to reach a large axe near his skis.
Calle made a gesture of greeting while staying back in open view. Now the man returned the greeting putting the axe back.
“Are you of these lands?” the man asked.
“Indeed,” laughed Calle.
“Mine is Unto. I have been traveling some time and my skis were damaged on rocks.”
Calle pointed with his skipole, “South east is a homestead. They may be able to help you. Farther from that is a village. Take the river way along my tracks and turn east into the woods when they do.”
“Thank you!” Unto smiled, “They say it is good luck to meet one who knows the Old Ones. I heard such a man lives in these woods. Perhaps he is there now. What is your name?”
“Me,” grinned Calle, “I am called Calle and you may have good luck. There is a man there who needs help. If not in battle then to help him search when he can travel again.”
Unto tilted his head at the strange answer.
Calle pushed off on his skis. Soon back in Swan Cabin laying on his bed platform next to a warm fire in the oven place.
<CALLE 139 a journey of life>>>
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In a pine mire far from the cabin Calle set out a batch of dried berries.
He chanted for several minutes that the spirits might know where to find the offering, then he spoke.
“Bear spirit. These are for you. What wrongs were done may they heal. May this gift of food respectfully given sooth the anger of your pains.”
At the cabin the grouse had started to appear again. Regular catches in the guard traps were keeping him in freshly roasted meat. He at least was in good harmony with the forest. Now he was doing butchery on the snow room’s table. What heat came in from the open door made it warm enough with his doubled furs.
Swan Cabin time with stocks of food was a pleasant time. Calle started work toward making more arrows, since that had been of use in trade. It was an item both of life, through the food it caught, and death, being used in battle. It also occurred to him that in all the time of using the snow room he had never once used the eastern door. So he decided to buffer this up as a sturdy wall though with a shutter for light.
<CALLE 140 adapt to UrW 3.82>>>
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Being reminded how useful arrows are in trade chore work now was on turning out arrows. At first five broad head arrows for his own hunting needs with their barbed iron heads. Then he turned to the great collection of animal bones turning out several pointed bone heads mounting on shafts.
“A living could be made just on arrows,” laughed Calle.
He also converted many bird skins into a long length of leather cord. Small portions were then used to tie on elbow and knee cups made out of elk. These were wanted more the rigors of outdoor life to spare the softer clothing though also protective when fighting.
Knowing how to respect North Wind allowed a joyous smile be on Calle. He could work around the homestead with little worry, so long as he kept to the teachings.: Wrap up warm, shelter when you can and sleep warmly. A set of shelves was assembled of well fitted boards. Its home became the workshop to sort all the small things all the better than the pegs and notches of the walls or hanging amid the beams.
Finally the amphora of water is drained. It had once again refilled the cask that in turn was filling the canteen, water skin and supplying the craft work. A walk to his eastern shore find the ice hole fully sealed up. Though it takes time to chip through this is the first time in weeks he had to come here. Tipping the amphora in his hands sting where the icy water touches them. Back uphill is a hurried motion no better than a waddle with the filled amphora. Once inside it is placed next to the over place where the heat will soak in to keep this water free of ice.
Long had the though the slope east of the cabin would become an enclosure for animals. His mind became curious on laying in a small open wall building to shelter them from the worst storms. That would take a lot of logs again. For now he settled on fencing up a notch in the trees, that he might have a place for whatever first animal he brought. Actually keeping animals though was a great cut into one’s freedom. The outer sides are fenced in save for the gap in the south west where seems the best to build storm shelter.
Day 2 of the 11th week to before summer, End of Center month
After strapping on his skis Calle hoists the sled ropes around his waist. With knee deep snow he and the sled can glide well once loaded. A few loads will bring in enough for the storm shelter barn. Gathering already fallen is a swift task. A few will be taken just for boards or firewood. Four new fells are made to be strong supports on each side of each corner of this C build. Loading the fourth new fall among the gathered falls Calle takes a meal. His canteen is cold to drink as the temperature is as low as it gets. A bit of slush passes his lips were freeze had started on the water. The water skin inside his jacket though jiggles with water. Deep breaths let him soak in the air.
That’s when a large figure approaches from the east. An elk coming toward him. Its breath puffs the air as even it strains against the snow. Taller than a man what is knee deep to Calle is mid calf to the elk. Still enough to trouble it. Its majestic powerful muscles bring each hoof clear to stretch forward then plunge back into the snowy embrace. As it comes closer Calle only momentarily ponders his bow. He has a great deal of meat in the cabin still. The elk glides between the heathland snow topped pines. A beauty he can enjoy. This too is part of North Wind’s teaching.
A sniff of air and the elk arcs its motion. A scent of Calle’s labors. The speed is unchanged. Only the direction making a gentle swooping crescent in the snow like a glimmering moon sliver. In a moment more it has slid from sight leaving Calle’s heart the merrier for sharing the magic.
Another day of fetching trunks lets Calle watch grouse fly and walk around him. The forest is more accepting of him than in his youth. Even with the bear overcoat on top of his furs and cloths North Wind can make him chilly. Her cold fingers sliding in through the tiniest of gaps to rub icy tips on his chest and legs. His feet get tickled as North Wind turns from feminine to masculine. Touching cold fingertips begin to grow scratching claws. There is danger in the wood amid the calm.
Gladly back at the cabin Calle’s skis clatter on the wood floor as he wiggle them in through the door. Now inside the snow room he knocks his covers. Snow flops down onto the floor here. By the time he has the skis off his feet the touch of North Wind is no longer felt. The door is closed until for a moment it opens. Calle has pulled it a crack to put an offering of peace, turnip outside. This North Wind can have instead of him. A tribute, a tax if you will, for the reminder of the teachings.
Closing the door Calle shudders to knock more snow off. The worst of it will make a puddle here in the snow room. With a hearty smile he goes through the joining door. Once this was his exterior now it has become a passage to the safety of the hearth. Prepared kindling stack waits to take the spark his steel and flint cast. As an iron worker he benefits from avoiding the tedious efforts of spinning a bow drill to life. A bundle of branches and crafting discards are added. The fire roars brighter, deeper and longer. Its heat seeping deep into Calle. Restocking his foods Calle blows heather petals into the winds.
“Thank you hearth guardian for having the house safe on my return,” Calle said, “Thank you Swan Maiden. Thank you North Wind.”
Lastly he goes about finishing another set of shelves. This one coming into the main cabin to sort more of the crafting supplies. Working on it outside while the bear coat was hanging in the snow room wasn’t a wise move. He grew bitterly cold though free of the bites of frosty North Wind. Once inside a new fire is started. With the chimney stones already simmering with heat and the coat donned Calle gets blissfully sweaty as he falls asleep.
[While working on the barn I got a game message of the “Spirit of the Forest” quest expire. Its been months since I played. I had really thought it was complete. Probably confused Calle with an earlier character. Hopefully it will come up as doable again.]
Chopping away at the building with Truth Cutter handaxe Calle feels something had slipped his mind. Something in the mists of the forest forgotten.
A pause.
Then he continues to work the trunks. It occurs to him a carving axe might be good or a broad axe. As he has a working smithy he can make one. Before the day is out he has shaped a iron to grip a steel billet and take a handle. The steel, charcoal treated iron, is welded in the slot. With a handle fitted Calle has his carving axe. First if his working this thin style it is serviceable though far from one worthy of a song. Trying the edge it does well for the small fittings. Still there is large shaping work to be done.
A feverish compulsion comes to him driving him. New blooms are run to billets. The first billets reworked with charcoal exposure to render them from black iron to gleaming steel. It takes day to work down all the blooms then rework billets only then to begin the axe. Three times he slept in the workshop. North Wind dancing outside the dying heat of the forge. Care is taken when shaping the haft. Once inserted haft and edge line line with the snaking handle magnifying the stroke into the sleek crisp edge. A fine broad axe forged by Calle, smith of the north.
His strength manages a few strokes at the barn construction. Then as the surge of inspiration leaves him his body sags. Stumbling he enters Swan Cabin. A fire is started to warm the place as he curls up amid the bed furs.
Come his awakening the broad axe is put to the task. Rapidly it sheds the outer trunk’s bark. Large smooth clefts remain to show where they were bonded. Such faster is the work that come noon the stocks of chosen trunks are prepared.
Day 5 of the 9th week before summer, Pearl month
The last of the roof is up. The C shaped barn will shelter animals on three sides reducing the affects of winds. For further comfort Calle lays in a layer of spruce branches as insulation across all the barn’s floor. Chanting a prayer he leaves out smoked bear meat as an offering for a protecting spirit to move in.
As better way to control the animals the entrance gate is turned into a double system with a small vestibule. Further preparation puts in a stock of bones for the animal to eat or play with. A new water tub is crafted, filled and put out. In the side pen two batches of spruce are laid out under spruce boughs to give other resting spots. This side pen might be used for shearing, separating a sick animal or restricting a temperamental one.
Recalling how farms were setup Calle brings in one of the unfavored trunks, trims the bark to a log then sets a fire along the middle top. Hollowing out could lead to a water craft, a dug out. Without needing to go all the way the hollow sections also act to hold water and the larger size good at catching the rain.
<CALLE 141 animal zone established>>>
[I later adjusted the double gate system to have a 2x3 interior not just 2x1. That will work better with game mechanics to bring an animal in and close the first gate behind them]
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Day 6 of the 8th week to summer, Late Pearl month
After a days more of crafting Calle prepares for another journey. To be the “smith of the north” he should support the more northern people. Pearl is named for the white on the trees and ground. A great skiing season. He knows in his heart he should go in the winter.
The good this time are more about hunting. As this is more warlike he will add his metal armors to him. Iron knee and elbow guards, lamellar cuirass, a spectacle helm and mail mittens. This on top of his bear overcoat, furs, leathers and wools. A healing pouch all warriors should carry. His adds two more bandages and the traveler's trio of herbs: nettle, heather and hemp. All can be eaten with nettle and hemp nutritious. When wounded wash with heather then add nettle to the binding. A heather tea is amazing at aiding many types of sickness.
For trade goods he has crafted a good supply for a hunters. The largest is a pair of hardwood bows just finished. For shooting there are six fine broadhead areas with keen edges for bleeding out large game or enemies. Fourteen bone tipped arrows fill out the quiver. A small knife will be of use in preparing the meat and light enough to be taken on long travels.
Food is packed on as well. Those traveler trio increased along with turnips and many smoked meats. A check of the canteen finds it full as is the water skin worn inside his clothes.
Lastly on go the skis. A puff of heater is offered to the spirits to guard his home while away. Once the door is closed behind him his ski pole pushes him northward.
North Wind dances around in the woods. Even through his layers and exertion the cold claws tap at him. Warmth grows from using both legs and arms to ski. The claws slide away leaving the merely a chilly sensation to the war clad Calle of the Reemi.
First to greet him is the Owl village of “Hanging Wide”. One of the dogs leaps over a snow dune barking at his shape. As well as the trade goods he has weapons of bow, axe, sword and knives. His shield waddles on his back as his skis. Helm covering his face it is no wonder the dog is on alarm. Calle slides to a stop. He raises a hand in the sign of greeting.
Orddot greets him back. Seeing this the Owl-tribe adventurer Ahkejuoksa approaches.
“Be wary this winter,” Ahekjuoksa said, “I scouted the Nerjpez as planned. They moved about to kill a few seals and ambushed someone when they were far from me.”
This worried Calle but his courage was gathered, “Such as this is why I come offering bows and arrows for trade.”
Orddot came closer to them, “Calle of the Reemi, will you be traveling south. There is a bundle promised that I am to carry there.”
“Take the rivers but sleep in the woods,” spoke Calle, “The need of me is here in the north.”
With Gahteriinna Calle barters for a winter arctic fox fur, the kind beloved by foreign traders. She is a shred trader taking both bows and 4 of the bone tipped arrows.
Calle laughed, “Truly I expected to travel father before trading so much away.”
Gathteriina snarked back, “We know our people well. These bows will go to my cousins. You would never find them as they move with the herds. Arrows they make enough of and those four will please me to practice shooting until we meet. Now, have you thought of taking one of our reindeer to your stead?”
“You are skilled haggler,” smiled Calle, “There is not much else I planned to trade this trip.”
“What of a dog then? We trained one up for hunting,” Gathteriina perisisted.
Calle showed the knife and remaining arrows, “Clearly not enough. Knowing some idea perhaps when I can fetch more ore and smith it then this can be done.”
She huffed, “But not in winter when the ways to ore are frozen over.”
Things shifted to the general trading of stories. In the afternoon Calle decided to ski on. More now to see if the lands were well. His heart still yearned to be out of the cabin.
“Hair Wild” village was reached in the evening under a three quarter moon turning the pearl snows silver. On the north side of the village they were gathered into a game of ball kicking. The two teams taking turns attempting to knock parts off the other team’s snowmen.
After the game Calle gifted the small knife to a shaman on the winning team, Vilhaelbma. In the tent they sang songs. His old friend Doaivu sat next to him. Doaivu expounded to the others on staying in Swan Cabin. Calle told them about adding three works this winter: the workshop, a snow room and a pen with C shaped barn. The Owl elders found the barns funny. All that work when the animals need to be moved to new grazing grounds. Come morning Calle continued northward while most were still sleeping.
At noon he skid into a community new to him, Barley’s forest. Old Silvu came trampling through the snow then took cover behind a tree. He had thought Calle might be a raider. Once the greetings were exchanged Silvu explained he had heard of Calle. To honor the visit Calle bartered for a spool of nettle yarn for which he overpaid a little with two bone tipped arrows.
From among them Vulle was hired as a guide. North across frozen uninhabited mires they went for miles. A herd of reindeer was seen moving without a care in the world. At a stand of spruce on higher ground they set up a shelter and settled in.
On the next morning they made it north enough to enter the mountains that made the north spine of the land. Crossing up and down onto a mire a nonchalant reindeer herd moved up to them. Calle tried a shot but missed. They smiled to each other as they continued.
Another camp was made and another morning saw them moving north still. This afternoon they reach the coast.
“Bouldery passage,” Vulle explained, “Traders have trouble sailing into this fjord.”
<CALLE 142 north coast with Vulle>>>
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On a mountain point, named Bouldercliff, on the west side of the north facing fjord Calle and Valle assembled an inukshuk. A stacking of rocks that those here could use as a reference. Later to draw the shape for traders to know to avoid the fjord’s waters. That night they made camp in valley rising to the south.
Day of the 7th week before summer, End of Pearl month
Vulle directs Calle to turn southeasterly. There they come into the Owl village of Palmwide. This village has a blacksmith, Olle. A brawny man.
Vulle said, “Olle is a smith of the north like yourself.”
Calle’s head jolted to look to Vulle then study Olle.
Vulle continued, “An apprentice in his youth from the Driik far to the south west. In his journey work time traders needed him to fix their armor. Hearing their stories and needing his skills they agreed for Olle to join them. On this journey he met his wife to be at a full moon celebration. He chose to stay.”
Olle looked over, “Strike iron true. No shoddy work to these good people. What iron they do use had better work or you’ll annoy me fixing it. Remember to give iron back to the land too. I don’t need you making the land spirits angry.”
Calle smiled, “Wise words good smith and a good reminder. There is plenty iron in the northern mountains but few skilled in working yet. Peace between us. It seemed the spirits wanted me here. That is in the north, not necessarily this village. I am traveling to see with my own eyes and hear with my own ears. If you would wish perhaps I can work for you a few days to learn as a journey and aid in what needs doing.”
Olle raised up to look over Calle, “Perhaps. Half my time goes to tending the herds. Everyone works.”
Calle bowed with open arms, “Consider it as I shall think on the wisdom your spoke.”
Vulle guided Calle over to other villagers. An honor trade for more thread for bone tipped arrows is made.
Vulle calls out, “Calle. Take a look at this.”
In the other trade tent the villager is showing a masterwork northern bow. A rare mighty thing. It two wood layers strain to complement each other like a good marriage. Known for hitting power at medium ranges in its lighter package Calle holds up his masterwork longbow, “Moon Bow” named, in comparison. It had come to Calle by foreign traders. A “war bow” they had called it and wanted the moon caught fur for it, hence the name Calle gave it. The longbows compare well with more accuracy at long range though bulkier to travel with.
It would certainly take a great deal to trade for it. He couldn’t fight with two bows. This northern one will truly speak of being in the north.
<CALLE 143 debating mw north bow>>>
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An extended haggling begins between Calle and the Riigu, a bold adventuring man of this Owl tribe of Bouldercliff. After the second verbal exchange one of elders puts down two blankets.
“This is the pride of our villages winter crafting,” said Riigu, “Everyone of us know this bow. Many of us have a part of lives tied to. Our elders saw a wind bent tree years ago waiting this year to harvest. Smith Olle made a new axe just to cut it down. I’m the one who brought in the birch bark for the covering. Our best bowyer shaped these woods. My cousin’s hands were the one that stirred the boiling perch into the glue.
Calle sat down in front of the blanket nearest him, “There is great wisdom in that bow. A tribe working together as one people. Of the people knowing deeply of the woods and animals of this Unreal world. It is an honor to even see it. Here is the heart of my offer…”
Calle looked to his metal armors. He started to untie the fine iron knee cups. An angry twirl of wind curled the snow. Thinking back these were a thing he bought from foreign travelers. Securing them back on he untied his iron elbow guards.
“This iron is of our land,” began Calle, “Plucked from mother earth myself trudging around our land. Exploring her blessed shapes to find the spots she chose to form the ore. It was fused by charcoal from our trees. Hammered by iron also from this land. These leather ties are from the living beasts. It was a vision dream ago that called me to be a smith of the north. Here in these pieces is proof that has become so. Things of life were giving to other your Owl tribesfolk. This is armor.”
Olle came to sit beside Riigu. He picked up the iron elbow guards. Tapping it with a back of finger knuckle he listened to the tone. Each was held to the fire light burning in the big kotta teepee. As it turned the quality of light was studied.
“Decent work this,” said Olle, “Its ring is fair. There are better rings. It is sturdy enough. This could be good for you Riigu but its not the full worth of the village’s best bow.”
Vulle spoke, “Calle had made bows as well. A pair of hardwood longbows traded for an arctic fox fur full in its winter coat. It was caught by those of the Hanging Wide village. Gahteriinna the fierce beauty was vicious in her bartering over it. Show them Calle.”
Calle put down on the trade blanket that fur. Riigu eyes brightened at the mention of her name.
Smith Olle teased, “Riigu fancies Gahteriinna. Returning the trade fur to her is like taking on her debts, a thing a husband does.”
Riigu blushed and looked away. The other villagers giggled while an elder nodded approval.
“I agree to this,” Riigu shot out.
“As do I. I agree to this,” answered Calle, “Now your village’s work may help you get a bride!”
Cheers broke the crisp winter air. Riigu scooped up the fur holding it tight to his chest.
Olle added, “The armor too.”
Riigu took the iron elbow guards in one hand never letting go of the fur.
Calle took up his new bow, a masterwork northern bow brought to life by an Owl village.
Vulle patted him on the back, “Good thing you hired a guide.”
Together they laughed.
<CALLE 144 bought mw northern bow>>>
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The pair, Calle and Vulle, stayed on another day.
Olle had a stack of stones he used to hold the charcoal of his forge. While that was made each time what he would move was the anvil stone. It was a beautiful spray of colors dotted like flowers. It had been used the Owl’s for generations.
In the traditions of journeymen Calle labored at the instruction of the local master Olle.
The exchange of knowledge mirroring how elders tell stories of the ancestors. This let Olle catch up on repairs of various things used by the tribe.
During a time when Olle was needed to assist with the reindeer Calle used the time to make a wooden shield for Vulle. Boards with a wooden connectors and wooden handle bar pegged together. While lacking a steel center boss it was still reliable for the skirmishes or wild beasts. If nothing else it might stop a raider’s arrows. During the stay another wooden shield was gifted to Riigu, all the better to survive his upcoming quests with.
After two extra days Vulle spoke, “I won’t be able to stay with you much longer. While you were hammering I’ve been helping with their reindeer. We are quite a ways north. Do you want stay or start southward together? You’ve shown enough skill out here that either is a fair choice.”
Calle pondered, “Olle and I are rare smiths in the north. It was good to spend some time on our craft. Thank you for your patience. Yes we can leave today and like the reindeer herds turn our own directions”
Vulle said, “Then lets make for one more village.”
South they went on a more westerly path then their norrthard journey. Vulle guided them to the Owl village of Hollermire. It was there that Vulle finally parted ways, heading easterly to get back to his own village. Calle made a point of greeting as many of this tribe as possible. An honor trade was made of bone tipped arrows for a leather rope.
Continuing south west he found the village of “Blue front”, again of the Owl reindeer herders. As he went about meeting them an honor trade was made of one of his broadhead arrows for a spool of nettle thread. A way to commit the hospitality between them.
He spent the night in woods making a new shelter, lining the bottom with spruce and being sure to put out some pointer markers of 3 and 3. Three singles then a bundle of three together acting as an arrow pointing to safety.
Next day he saw a stag elk in the distance. Being this far out he decided to let it go. Around noon he recognized the hills. At Pitchhead he found one of his travel camps on the edge of a lake. These were places of refuge should on a long journey like this things take a turn for the worse. He was today healthy and well. He smiled at seeing the result of “Preparation is all it takes to live.” Before leaving he hauled over a wind fall tree and chopped it into blocks for future emergency fires.
With the dark of evening growing the traveler shelter at Tarwide was found. Another of the places prepared for long journeys. Its guard traps are set up for the night, to be disarmed in the morning. More locator markers added to those already there and a wind fall brought closer. There is already stocks of firewood and blocks at the shelter.
Finally Calle returns to Swan Cabin.
Day of the 6th week before summer season, Beginning of Soil month.
Once inside he takes off his metal armor, the iron elbow guards having stayed in the north. His carried arrows rebalanced to a normal load and the medicine pouch is stored. Its contents confirmed as thirty nettles, heather and hemp plus two bandages. Moon Bow, the warbow from the foreigners, is unstrung to be stored by his bed. With him will remain the masterwork northern bow. He ponders what name it will gain.
<CALLE 145 back at swan cabin>>>
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At Swan Cabin early soil month Calle sets about making replacement iron elbow guards. The prosperity of the land flows in with the homestead guard traps catching a grouse then a hare. In a couple of days the replacement iron elbow cups, coudes, are fit tested then placed with the iron armor stores.
<CALLE 146 iron elbows back>>>
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Day 3 of the 6th week before summer, Early Soil month
The layers of snow are still be added to. Though named Soil month it will be time yet before soil work can actually begin.
With a fresh look after his trip Calle does sorting and decoration. From the stack of trades furs in the snow room, the cabin atrium, the non-winter furs are pulled out. He should leave himself some for crafting and decorating.
For the smoke house backside a wolf fur is hung up. The idea being if the wolf spirit is there other predators will be scared off. All the predator traps are really defensive not for active captures.
A beaver fur goes by the pantry shelves. Known for keeping happy homes even with storms outside the beaver is welcome sight. Certainly less scary in a flash of lightning then the wolf by your bed!
Swan feathers are hung from roofs too. A symbol that the Swan Maiden is welcome here. A feather each is hung in the smokehouse, workshop and the sauna room. There are already several by the bed in the main room.
The snow room has the benches that once were the outside seats. Now inside Calle affirms them each having a reindeer fur as a padding. This room is for gentle sitting times for family yet to be.
Come the next morning the question of what to do now fills his find. There is almost no iron left at the workshop. Enough for a pair of small knives or more broad heads. The “smith of the north” trip has been done twice. Once with things of life and once with things of death. Seeing all the winter furs on the trips reminded him how expensive foreign trade is. Its time then to get more winter furs of his own.
Gatheriina of Hanging Wide had that hunting dog. Its an investment that will take food. Food he has plenty of and more if he catches fur bearing animals. Collecting furs and leathers suitable for crafting will be part of the payment. A day of crafting wood objects for them is a good idea. First he scoops out wood to bind in pairs to make two canteens. Useful for nomads like the Owl tribe. A pair of bowls for the traveler to eat from while drinking from the canteen. A bone comb may interest Gatheriina with her long locks of hair and a second perhaps to use separately on the reindeer.
His trip is quick, reaching by noon. What a haggler Gatheriina is! At one point asking for that new masterwork northern bow! She unpins her apron putting it down on the snow sitting next to it.
“You want only one thing, the leash of the hunting dog,” Gahteriina proclaims, “This then is a one blanket trade. Put your offers! I’m a fussy person. That bow would do well!”
“Not the bow,” answers Calle, “Here various craft goods.”
“Hardly enough!” she snaps back, “That lynx fur is rare. I can manage that to carry it until a foreign trader brings something worthy.”
Calle rubs his chin. He too wants to trade with the foreigners.
“There are these furs and leathers,” said Calle.
He started adding to the blanket the crafting furs and leathers, such as hare furs and bird skins for leather.
“Well at least something is useful.”
Calle’s head shrunk on his neck. She was truly a demanding force of nature. Back and forth they went. Finally the agreement was made. She took 3 arrows, the 2 canteens, 2 bowls, 2 combs, the bird leathers and hare furs. This let Calle old onto the lynx furs while still winning the leash.
Gatheriina bolted up snatching up her apron and all those goods inside. She bundled it tight right away hurrying off to a kota as if chased by wolves.
<CALLE 147 bought dog>>>
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Now for a name…
Marikka: in Finnish, this girl’s name means “a woman of turbulent personality.”
Calle chuckles at his choice. Maarikka is a big female dog, named for turbulent nature of the barterer Gatheriina. Riigu is going to have his hands full if he marries that one!
Orddot joined Calle, “Let me explain what commands she knows.”
The lesson was given. It was much the same as in his Reemi home in the south. Good to be reminded and updated to the local dialect, so to speak. Old Geablu had been sitting until the end of the lesson.
Geablu cane walked over, “Calle good man. While you are here could you lend Simma a hand?”
It was just labor needing to be done. The sun was still in the sky when it was complete.
“Just consider it for future trades,” said Calle, “Now I want to get Marikka off with me to show her she is live with me not this village.”
“She was trained well,” Simma said, “Remember to make a hunting horn to call her if she goes too far.”
“Ah! Yes!” replied Calle, “That would be needed in these spruce woods. I believe there are suitable antlers at Swan Cabin.”
By evening they were at Swan Cabin. Through the double gate Marrika was led. Foods were taken out of his bag. She could have the run of the pen while he saw to making the horn. From now on he had to double up on planning food.
Come morning Marikka was happily bouncing around her large yard. She took to the smoke meats left for her and the elk bones had been tossed about sometime in the night. Her trail showed she had made use of the C barn to sleep on top of the spruce bedding.
Back into the cabin Calle searched his stocks finding two sets of elk antlers. Their natural scooping shapes could be joined like how two cup shapes made a canteen. Choosing between them he settled on a set. The extra tines would need to come off. Since they didn’t grow as one whittling would be needed to make a tight fit. That fit would take glue. Searching the shelves he had a stores of fish-skin glue and pine pitch glue. He almost used the former then remembered that should be saved for bows and delicate works. Pine pitch glue, made of pine sap chunks melted to stir in ash, would be strong though not as pretty. With the over-place the glue was reheated turning form its hard standing state to a spreadable glue.
Once it cooled enough to use Calle went outside to the pen. He gave it a blast. It trumpeted loudly. Marikka pulled away from the side of the fence she was prowling on. She looked between Calle and beyond the fence. Calle blew it again. She came over then looked back that way. Paying attention to the senses of the companion is part of the teaching. Calle followed the gaze to see a grouse was stuck in a trap. Marikka was doing her job!
A perfect training time. Calle open both double gates. Marikka follows out. The attack command is given. Marikka savages the grouse!
Happy with the result and training her Calle puts the carcass down in the pen. There Marikka can eat the reward of her adventure.
First plan is to restore portions of the field traps. The fences and pit traps do make a trap fence. Calle had wanted to focus on smithing during the winter. That time has passed.
Its good fun taking Marikka to explore. These fields will be part of her life now. Each pit needs the snow dug out before being able to reset it. Half are missing their bait or didn’t have it when knocked out. Now the two sets are up. Were the lake water they would catch animals moving along the shore. Right now the thick lake ice could let them pass should they risk coming fully out of the trees, something the prey animals don’t like doing.
The next day yet another trapped grouse goes to the pen. Now they go south finding an ignored pit trap that Calle decides to disarm. He hadn’t thought about this all winter. It would have been an unnecessary lost animal had one gone in.
While there a hare is spotted. Time to try a dog hunt. Unleashing Marikka she is set after the hare. If they become separated the elk hunting horn can always recall her. The hare and Marikka move so fast Calle there are soon lost form sight. Following best he can Marikka wanders back to him. It doesn’t look like Marikka has blood on her jaws. The hare had gotten away. Still a good test of Marikka who did come back on her own.
Man and canine travel the woods looking for game. Checking on the various shelters and spots it becomes a perimeter patrol as well. They arc from south to west, through “Iron Corner” where ore was harvested then north coming to the spot of the “battle bear” and the ant hill of sacrifice. That fight was a tough one. The standing bear figurine Calle carved symolizes the power of that bear. For a time he wonders what happened with that most recent bear wounded and whether the ritual had calmed the anger. The battle bear’s skull looks on from its perch on the lonely pine tree.
Circling back they come back to the cabin. Marikka happily bounds into the pen. Calle puts out stored elk and bear bones to leave a lot more food for her. So far no large animals to hunt. He is still happy to have her company.
<CALLE 148 dog patrols>>>
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There was still time left in the day with sun’s bottom only starting to touch the distant heights. Calle made to the workshop then he thinks it doesn’t have to lonely. He lets Marikka come out to run around while he works on bone tipped arrows. Once he made up three such arrows he used the horn to guide her back to the pen. He ruffled her fur with a good dose of petting before closing it up for the night.
Sweeping out active hunting again they spot a badger. As Calle fires Marikka’s leaping catches a scratch. Being leashed to Calle hadn’t helped that! It isn’t bad and Calle washes it with heather rubs on nettle. Marikka licks at the nettle so he puts a second batch on. Exploring around Calle lays in a new hunting shelter on the edge of “Old man’s mire” and a lake. Huddled together inside the spruce shelter on spruce bedding they pass the night together.
In a dream Swan Maiden with wings outstretched passes from one cloud to another.
Waking Calle finds Marikka already looking to him. A check of her wound finds it free of infection.
Traveling on they haven’t spotted more large game. Moving on the frozen lands south of Swan Cabin hasn’t been done this thoroughly before. He lays in a second travel shelter then a third, at the rapids of “Knocken stream”. A winter fishing spot which he tries and fails to catch at. Again man and dog huddle up in shelter on and under spruce.
Coming back to the homestead its been a few days since the pit traps were set. This is a good time to check and reset them. The chore done this time Calle leads Marikka into the Swan Cabin proper for the first time. She sniffs around all the places. The bed where Calle sleeps gets good attention. Glancing between bed and Calle she seems to have figured that’s where he sleeps. There is a lot of things she noses into: crafts, bone supplies, the pantry. It would get complicated keeping her indoors all the time with all the layers, stacks and piles. Tonight though it a treat of their couple of nights huddled together.
<CALLE 149 huddled nights with Marikka>>>
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Day 4 of the 5th week to summer, Soil month
Snows are now waist deep. The deepest of the season. Cool are is warmer than the deep cold. Soon that warmth will start to melt the snow. It is the first signs of the earth that the month gets it name.
Restocking supplies Calle ponders the flax leaves. They are known for restoring nutrition when imbalanced. He has them in good quantity. Perhaps the Traveler’s Trio should be Nettle, Heather, Flax or maybe all four? Nettle, Heather, Hemp, Flax. He adds thirty leaves to the warrior medicine pouch with a few on his traveling pouch. Maybe a saying to remember…
“Need fighter’s helpful herbs,” says Calle, “Nettle flax hemp heather.”
Still dim the morning be. So short the vision hunting wouldn’t be possible. Rather then travel to a hill now he brings a pair of arrows to life. Then Marikka is brought along. Another trip at hunting while hoping for catches at the trap fences. With the ring of shelters done there is greater confidence glowing from his heart to his smile. Marikka’s fluffy fur bounding along with him is a joy to see. He needs to learn to be aware of her senses as an extension of his own.
To the high hills and mountains they go. Each time popping up looking to sight large game. Moving around the lands of the shelter ring.
<CALLE 150 hunting around shelter ring>>>
OOC:
Wanted to save here to put up a pic of the hunting ring as a how-to teaching. With extra shelters you are much safer from sudden storms and injuries. It also creates a feeling of being established in the area. Over time you might expand in other directions such as the shelters left by the long trips north.
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With the two great northern journeys there are shelters along their path and hills in places. Calle decides to move within that outer establishment. Much farther north west is the Old One’s cave near the iron camp. Perhaps a warm weather trip to there.
At a rapids he sets up another a traveling shelter with trail markers, stocks of wood and pre-built guard traps. Come the morning when leaving the traps are disarmed.
Day 6 of the 5th week to summer
Afternoon brings rain.
“So it begins,” Calle says.
Creeping warmth has sent North Wind back to the Ice Palace in the north. Water coming as rain darts tiny holes again and again in the snow. Snows will recede. Soon skiing won’t be possible. River tops will flow again. The temperature is at the balance point where it rains but a slight dip freezes it into a crust. Skiing is getting harder. Hopes for winter ski hunt will pass soon.
On completing the few days sweep without sightings its time to reset the trap fences. No catches here either. Perhaps the winter migration has moved through already. Its important for a hunter to know the habits of the animals. They to will start to struggle with the crusts on the snow. Returning to Swan Cabin chores of clearing ice from the guard traps needs to be done. Marikka is let into the pen with the awaiting bones. Travel foods and medicines are restocked.
“Need fighter’s helpful herbs,” says Calle, “Nettle flax hemp and heather. Use the heather in a respectful sacrifice.”
As he puts out meats for Marikka a whisper in the wind goes, “Meadsweet”.
Its then he recalls grandmother mixing a child him a broth of meadsweet. It was a time a time he stomach was stabbing with pain. It had helped settle his nausea. Then there was a time sister had taken a fever so bad she was bed ridden. Grandmother had used something else. Something. Burdock! That brought down her fever.
Going to his cellars and pantry he reconsiders what to have for a traveling medicine bundle. It is a bit troubling that he has no burdock at all. Meadsweet he has in decent amounts. There is also stonecrop the wound aiding herb found on hills and mountains. Dogpipe is nourishing while roseroot reduces pain and speeds healing.
On consideration he comes up with new memory phrase: “Fighters need helpful medicinal herbs and bandages”.
Flax supports nutrition and recovery.
Nettles for binding wounds and sickness of the lungs.
Hemp is for eating.
Meadsweet tea reduces vomiting, reduces pain and lowers infection.
Heather is for washing wounds and as a tea for many internal illnesses.
“And bandages” means to have another two ready bandages.
A pot, be it iron or clay kettle pot, is needed to make the teas.
Flax, nettles and hemp leaves are all by products of agriculture. Threshing for straws also yields leaves so these can be grown in quantity or found around villages. Meadsweet needs to be gathered from the wild forests. Heather flowers are light to carry for frequent offerings of peace with the spirits. When eating your daily leaves put heather out then.
After rebuilding his fighter’s medicinal pouch he hangs it with his metal battle armors. He does have much of those in smaller quantities with him as he travels. To finish the day he takes from his large stock of boards to assemble a wood shield for later trade.
On the next day he gathers Marikka to make another hunting patrol. A part of him is nagged for not being productive in crafts. Majority of his heart is enjoying being out after months close to the cabin. A good travel to hills. Into the north west region he presses out making another new shelter for them.
Going farther north west Marikka’s ears perk up. The ears twist then her head snaps to that. She takes a step forward then focuses on listening. Calle lowers himself to see from her level. In the distance a wolf is slips through the mires a few bow shots distance away. One wolf is rare and a pack is very dangerous. Heeding Marikka’s warning he turns them east.
A pair of days in the north east building of the second ring of hunting shelters. When set trees provide partial shielding from wind or attacks. A fire ring with rocks and a large stone whose height draws off the smoke. A few simple guard traps for safety. Wood down to firewood in stock. Trail markers pointing form several directions to make relocating the now many shelters in the similar looking woods.
Having spotted no game it is time again to reset the traps.
Marikka alerts again. Kneeling Calle sees a fox at the trap fence. In a rare sight he even sees it make the leap for the bait. Its paw slides into the notch of the fox paw board. Wriggling it is helpless to escape. He actually saw it get caught! Battered with the pommel of the River Sword finishes the fox.
Setting to the chore of tending the traps it almost went unseen that one of the pits had collapsed.
“Probably the fox,” said Calle, “Odd though. It must have been balanced poorly.”
Getting closer the brown shaft is realized not to be one of the wood beams. It is the frozen leg of an elk! The pit had taken it! The fox must have smelt it and tried to figure it out when it chose the easier fox board meat.
It was the afternoon of Day 5 of the 4th week before summer, Soil month.
Processing this elk will take hours. The work trails so late he sleeps with the carcass.
Dark shadows move in the woods. It has been angered. Has other animals died cruelly in the traps unseen? Checking the east trap fence finds no others trapped.
Calle takes time to set out one of the elk meat cuts in a tree. He chants asking for forgiveness for having taken so long to find the elk. Now it can journey back to the source to come back on the river of life.
At Swan Cabin one of the skinned elk’s legs with shoulder is put out in Marikka’s pen. She can eat as much as wants for days!
The main meat is stored in the enclosed cellar for overnight. Work on the elk’s hide begins. While waiting another wooden shield is made. Come morning the next phase of tanning is done. Taking the elk meat form the cellar and the now two shields Calle collects Marikka for a trade trip.
For this trip he choose Maiden Stream to the south east. Old Ollie is first to greet him. Nyri is here too. Trade goods include spectacle helmets and mail leggings.
“Foreign trader just came through, they left to the south west if you want to catch them,” Ollie said.
The value of the goods is well beyond the elk that he brought. Calle instead trades the fresh meat for tanned furs. Those won’t spoil. The village has an excess of furs and this time of year can use the food.
Back to Swan Cabin. Working the elk hide takes the rest of this day and the next. Its likely the foreign traders are now long gone. With the warming temperatures Calle sheds the bear fur overcoat. They make a go at finding the foreign traders with all of Calle’s trade furs.
Luck! Or did the traders plan on staying near a village so the outlaying steads could come?
<CALLE 151 trading with foreign>>>
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Calle and the merchants go about the steps of offering. Most are carrying arrows and weapons that don’t match his collections. There is battleswords that are even larger than the fine River Sword Calle has on his belt. Another item to consider is a battle axe. There is a well made crossbow, a weapon of power Calle has little background in and he prefers the masterwork northern bow from Bouldercliff.
“Boulder bow,” Calle laughs. Finally finding a name for it. A joke about how it is so strong as to fire a boulder while showing its origins from Bouldercliff.
Bevisbert displays how the battle sword can be used. He spars lightly with the others. Battlesword and spear in opposition.
“These cleave through armor,” Bevisbert says, “Your broadsword is great on lightly armored foes. Its a good backup weapon. These though are truly for battle. By battle we mean others who are well armored. What is the extra hitting power might be the only part that affects the armored enemy. Hitting an unarmored area… well… it gets colorful!”
Recalling the Nerjpez warcamp to the southeast there might indeed be such foes there or found in the woods.
“Very well. Lets put down blankets,” Calle says.
Bevisbert put down two tarps, each a deeply tanned leather of a deer sized animal. They bore the stains of numerous trades, grounds and weather. Onto one he put the battlesword with its sheath and a weave of buckles.
“This is called a frog,” Bevisbert said, “It is used to secure the sheath to a belt at what angles you choose. This is a heavy frog for the heavy sword. Each buckle coming up distributes the burden to the belt in a different spot. You’ll need that too. Those lynx furs interest me.”
Call’s mounds of fur was untied to allow examination. They went back and forth picking some out, putting some back. Holding back the bear fur may be useful for fighting wear. Holding back large winter elks as well. High value smalls furs like ermine a good for rounding up to a closure. Finally its agreed on a lynx fur, a winter lynx fur and the recently caught fox fur. These leaves the bear, several elk and many small furs for Calle to bundle up.
<CALLE 152 bought battlesword>>>
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Being late afternoon Calle might make the trip back. Instead he decides to visit Maiden’s Stream. He does have his trade furs this time. Is there a trade to be done? Perhaps for the mail leggings?
Greetings exchange its old Reko who sets down for a blanket trade. Calle pulled over the mail leggings turning them over for detailed study. Curls of metal links varied in places. A sure sign of repaired battle damage. Pits on older rings hint of having once had rust, especially around the groin known to get sweaty and the bottoms of the calves. The latter perhaps from snow?
Reko began, “That’s a nice looking sword you have there. That big one. Its new isn’t it?”
“It’s new,” chuckled Calle, “and not for sale.”
Starting an elk fur other furs were added and removed until the agreement was reached. Reko pulled his blanket to the side.
“These always need fitting to a new wearer,” Reko said, “Ill help tie up loose bits until you can shift the rings properly.”
While Calle stands still Reko uses threads to tie up where pinches are needed. He’ll use the pliers at his workshop to open and shift rings for a durable adjustment.
The village also needs labor done. After taking the armor and trade furs to Swan Cabin Calle returned to help his frequent companions. After the work is done a half bag of rye grains is given, for the trade a single bone arrow. It is a handy trade of non-spoiling foods.
Now then…
Calle had seen a boar snuffling into the north fields. Still covered in snow it was routing for remains of crops. Its time to test the “Boulder Bow”. One of own broadheaded arrows is notched… loosed… and cuts just above the knee! Blood bubbles out as the boar limps. Severed liagments make that leg useless. A bone headed arrow notched… loosed… deeply diving into the boar’s abdomen. It rises just avoiding the next bone arrow. Both strikes bleed furiously. It manages only a few stumblings before passing out. Drawing the battlesword for its first bloodening Calle stabs the next then pommels the head.
Calle rechecks their trade piles though nothing really calls to him. Still he gives them one of the boar quarters to have their own feast. The rest he takes back for smoking at the Swan Cabin. He gives himself the luxury of freshly roast boar belly!
<CALLE 153 Bacon and mail leggings>>>
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The trip gave Calle desire to think about what to do. He could now be an armored warrior to drive back the spirit harming Nerjpez. As part of a meditation he led Marikka to the trap fences to reset them. Checking nearby hill tops and vantage points foreign traders were seen. Looks like they had landed several parties. Though without the trade furs he felt to meet them.
Exchanging greetings their headman was Brunaald. Calle asked for news.
“We’ve come for the thicker furs collected this winter,” Brunaald explained, “We landed on the north coast. There are now several Nerjpez war camps along the great river. We are traders looking for goods for our own lands. Our war parties have our own affairs to see to. We’d rather deal with folks like you. Your people have been good to us. We even saw a new rock statue that looked like this. We were told told it us to avoid landing in dangerous waters.”
Brunalld shaped his arms and legs roughly like the inukshuk raised at the Bouldercliff fjort.
“It was an Owl tribesman named Valle and myself Calle that put that up. Glad it did good.”
“You have our thanks. We landed outside the ford. We sent a scout to check and he did come back saying it was risking water. May your forest spirits bless you with a way to keep your people safe from the invaders.”
“Maybe they have,” answered Calle,
“Perhaps these weapons can help you. Some are battle weapons. Taken from foes those war parties slew. Rather than burn then we’d rather trade them with furs to dress the victorious.”
First to be shown was a battleaxe. Long handled for two hands with a thin edge shaped to cut flesh through iron rather than the spreading wedge of a wood working axe.
Calle waved it off patting the battlesword, “Pig Sticker has that covered.”
Each trader came up in turn showing their wares. It was their custom to show the goods that even if not traded today word of them would spread to draw in other fur collectors. Halmot presented another iron rimmed masterwork rimmed shield. Gilbrand had one too. Calle was interested in having a spare as his current one would keep getting damaged. For this then he would have to return to the cabin to gather the furs.
Fetching the furs evening grew darker into the silver of a full moon. Calle struggled to catch sight of the merchants. Noon the next day he found a group of traders, a different one. Halbrand had such an iron rimmed masterwork shield. This trade was soon done.
Calle added, “If you hadn’t heard there is an inukshuk like this warning of a dangerous ford.”
He made the pose.
Then Halbrand unstrapped a large sword from his back, “Then you are worthy of a greater trade. Our ship is one of those that heeded that warning. I was going to save this for later in the season. This was taken in battle from one of the warlords bodyguards.”
What he laid down was a battlesword. Drawing it he showed the marbling rivers of mixed steel like in Calle’s River Sword. Pommel had been etched on one side with head of a boar with the showing tusk, eyes and ears about the outline of the head. There were runes marked along the blade which were explained to read out “Bravery”.
For the “Brave Boar” sword the barter took all three of the winter elk furs, two of arctic fox fur and a hare as well. It left Calle with only a few small ermine furs.
<CALLE 154 Brave Boar fine battlesword>>>
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There is a fine collection of armor and weapons for Calle now. With the warming weather it was also time to reduce his layers. Rains were shrinking the snow. There might be time to ski a fast raid on the war camp threatening Maiden’s Stream.
A trial dressing for battle is done. Linen against his skin, furs for padding from blunt, leathers to reinforce and metals for weapons. His own weapons center on the Brave Boar fine battlesword and Boulder Bow masterwork northern bow. The River Sword as a side sword spare. Axes and knives for woodcraft are themselves backup weapons. The medicinal bundle packed for “Fighters need helpful medicinal herbs and bandages”… flax, nettle, hemp, meadsweet, heather and bandages. Food for him and Marikka. With the skis it came to just under one hundred and seventy pounds. A great weight were he not so large and strong bodied. A concern he has is the vulnerability of his neck.
If he skied it would take two if not three days to find them. A day to ambush. The same back would mean a week. A week might see the rivers lose their ice. The target area he heard of is across at least one river. If that or other rivers melt he needs a plan.
He might cross at ford now risking freezing isn’t a likely but he needs to be quick to make a fire. Carrying tinder of at least 3 branches at all times helps with that. He also has been carrying a second rope, one being used for leashing Marikka, which he could make a raft. A sesta might not cross a river so should he bring a paddle? Yes. A new paddle is made.
There were the clinkered punts he made. The heavy wooden ones are hard to move on land though the sled wagon can help with that. A tarp punt can be broken down to just the tarp with a new frame assembled if needed. Carrying a paddle and tarp is a moderate burden that is doable. With no tarp on hand that would delay the departure to prepare. The rope and paddle option is the only one ready.
If he delayed they would not be attacked, at least by him, for the season. To appear as a raid and leave would seem like a ghost.
Calle keeps pondering especially on his protection. Some foreign traders had worn a neck protection called a gorget. He doesn’t have enough metal a steel one but one of them had worn one of leather with shoulder guards. That is doable. It would take a ring of two pieces with a bending hinge and a tie hinge for the horizontal ring. From that hang flaps on the front, back and over the shoulders. Its not that complicated of an idea. Each of those is just one hinge or tie point. Making it fit well is where the test of skill is.
This would delay him a day.
He blows heather into the wind.
“Spirits,” Calle said, “Guide me. My hand in crafting, my heart in action.”
His mind drifts to recently acquired boar leather. It would mean accepting it had been sent. Sent that he could make its hide into armor for this fight. That is what he’ll use. Tonight he thinly cuts a ring for cords and rectangles for hinges. He plays around measuring with his hands for the sizing around neck and shoulder. He’ll sleep on it.
His night dreams of a boar thrashing out of the woods. It rises up on its hind legs. Its shape becomes that of a man. A man with armor, furs, axes, sword and bundles. The man marches past him toward a war camp.
Waking in the night Calle winces his eyes. He clasps his arms about himself making sure he is still a man. Over his head the swan feathers twirl from the rafters of Swan Cabin. Chanting quietly he stills his heart to fall back asleep.
In dim early hours he awakens. With a fresh mind he takes from the oven place a bit of charcoal. Measuring his neck and shoulders he transfers those to the boar hid. Repeating this makes sure he gets an average that should work. He flexes his shoulder noting changes onto the hide. A new set of marks is added outside of that for a tirmming allowance.
Taking out his fine small knife he spends the hours to make a leather gorget with front, back and shoulder flaps. When main pieces are pulled off he puts them on his body knowing they need to be trimmed. This fit, trim, fit, trim is repeated over and over until the neck ring sits well when he shifts his head. The hinge and tie are put in. Fit, move and trim is repeated for the flaps until they get mounted. It comes off decently well.
“The thoughtful crafter is an efficient crafter,” Calle recites.
Fitting on the final piece he is much more confident on the neck protection. Having even more on his shoulders is an extra blessing.
<CALLE 155 made leather gorget with pauldrons>>>
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Day 6 of the 3rd week to summer, end of Soil month
Late morning Calle fully armored, armed and kitted collects Mirakka. They begin the journey with the goal to raid the Nerjpez.
Skiing on the snow with a mediocre crust is tiring with good progress being made. Unexptectedly he sped to outside that area that night. As a precaution in the dark night he builds a hidden shelter near a lake. If wounded he can fall back to here. A tight C of spruce blocks almost all approaches to his shelter. The narrow he guards with a trap. He won’t use a fire here as it might alert the target. A safe night is spent.
Now comes the attack.
<CALLE 156 Attack camp made>>>
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With the friendly village to the west Calle approaches from the north. He moves east then to the south seeking. Turning west a shadow comes out between trees. A brown mass of the furs of a familiar looking elk. Beyond that is a thin wisp of smoke of a camp. The elk helped him find them!
There camp in “Quarrel Wood” seems sighted to watch the west over a mire. The direction of the village. Spruce to the east shelter them from winds. This gives a decent path for closing. Perhaps any of them looking out will only think he is an elk like this one. Confidence blooms that the spirits are with him.
<CALLE 157 found warcamp>>>
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Aborted section
In the spruce woods of the late afternoon Calle feds Marikka and himself. The dog barked an extra time. Calle wondered if it was the enemy she smelled. They were closing on the war camp. Skiing around the trees the approach needed to be careful. He hoped to ambush one or two not fight the whole camp.
A soft breeze kisses his cheek.
Looking to the sky he sees the clouds. Their billows taking shapes being puzzled into things he knows. White swan feathers falling become snow. A fresh blanket to ski on. A shroud of soft white to hide his movements.
Gliding under Swan Maiden’s blessing he passes to a point where he can see the open ground of the camp. He nibbles on his medicinal herbs, that their benefits may already be flowing in his body. Stowing the ski stick he notches his first arrow.
<CALLE 158 at camp edge>>>
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OOC:
Im actually pretty nervous. I haven't raided a Nerjpez village since like... uh.... Beodrin? Or there was a try made with Cronan. Suffice to say Im far more into the survival skills hence the BAC modding.
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Aborted section
Seeing the east wall of a building. He steps to position to be able to see the door.
A curse blurts out!
He’s been seen.
It would seem a chief with a lamellar cuirass over his clothes. A large spear in his hand but no bow. The first arrow’s bone tip darts a graze on his hip. Other voices shout. At least two more coming.
Marikka snarls shifting beside Calle’s legs. Her leash restrains her. A style to keep her as a defense form melee attacks.
Nock and fire a broadhead catches a tree as the war chief charges. Plowing up the snow his double grip on the leveled spear with a gleaming metal point.
Nock and fire broadhead. Sweeping it passes between lamellar plates severing a wide sweep of blood and nerves. Twisting the chief falls eyes open upon the snow. Gaping mouth breathing no more.
<CALLE 159 shot chief dead>>>
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First go from here...
he died...
There was at least three that got up to him.
If you don't want to read reloaded games well the story probably ended much earlier.
Im doing this as a writing exercise and inspiration so giving another shot... with a focus on escaping.
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four plus tries...
still dead. :'(
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A short talk.
Now... by the rule of dying yes Calle would have died.
Writing stories based on Unreal World are very therapeutic for me. I've played this game for years, as the story list will show. Also when playing there is the motivation for modding and updating the mod. Now with years of play the starting from the beginning is something done so many times. I've decided to backup Calle's story a bit so that I can enjoy playing something different: that of an established homestead. Also the BAC mod will get a bit more updating.
Part of what was hoped for Calle, to shoot one and run away, doesn't seem to be viable in the snow.
There is some discussion of this in this suggestion thread:
https://www.unrealworld.fi/forums/index.php?topic=6177.0
That said those who enjoy the writing can continue with me.
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(Aborting attack as it is currently impossible to even single one out. Among the issues is the current game mechanics mean they have no penalty to move in heavy snow. It would be impossible to escape. Eventually the four plus Nerjpez will wear Calle down and there might be even more in the camp)
The elk’s eyes and his meet.
A swirl takes his mind.
Time and time again he tries alone to attack the camp. Each time he can manage to kill one, perhaps their war leader himself. Then the others swarm him. He watches Marikka suffer and die. No matter how he tries to battle they find him.
The elk’s side passes between trees as it turns away.
Overhead a billowing cloud with two spreading fans and a long streak fill in his mind the image of a swan.
Swan Maiden has warned him.
Calle accepts the warning.
<CALLE 160 didn’t attack>>>
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Withdrawing westward meant moving away from the attack shelter now north of him. On this side of the river he assembled another shelter. When he had a war party this could of use in launching an attack then. That would be some time, if ever. The markers would also serve to mark to those who knew them where to land a punt to make their approach.
He selected a U of spruce near the frozen river. A mixed choice to be sure. In the summer this would be well hidden from the land side. In the winter like now it was viewable from the ice side. Rocks and a large stone are assembled for a fire ring though he will make no fire. Were it lit the rocks absorb heat, block sparks while the larger stone’s heat draws the smoke to itself. A fallen tree is brought to the shelter, chopped into blocks and some further processed into firewood. A guard trap is set on one side. More spruce is laid in the floor to insulate.
Snow falls from the clouds like feathers from a swan. This further hides his tracks and the shelter. With the protection of Swan Maiden around him Calle feeds Marikka and himself before snuggling up together on and under the spruce.
Day 1 of the 2nd week before summer season
In the morning improvements of more secret markers and another guard trap were set. The traps were disarmed for now. Being left inactive meant able to set them up quickly on a return.
He arrived back at the “Button stream” community. First seen was the boy Teppo.
Calle studied Teppo. Thoughts of the dangers of the nearby raiders troubled him. What might happen to Teppo? A greater force and better equipment would give a better future to the boy.
Perhaps this is what was meant by being the “smith of the north”. To equip the people well enough so that several, not just Calle, would be well equipped warriors. For now the vision of his many deaths chilled his heart as deeply as plunging into a river while North Wind danced.
Hunter Kalerva came over greeting Calle. Calle spoke of spotting the war camp, their numbers he guessed at and the locations of the attack shelters.
With Apro Calle traded for a linen dress. It wasn’t the smoothest of stitching. A part of Calle hoped to have a lady companion stay with him. This would be a gift for her or payment for working. For it he traded his eight bone tipped arrows, 2 of his broadheads and foods.
Salme waved to Calle, “Thank you. I worked on that dress this winter. Glad it will find a home. We all hope you’ll find someone for it soon our friend!”
Calle blushed.
Moving on Calle skied on slightly different paths to expand his knowing of the lands. As evening came he swung into the homested of Maiden’s Stream. These too he warned of the war camp. Feeding Marikka one of his swirl hardtacks, having traded off the meat, they settled down to discussing with the stead folk. In time warriors might gather. It was the way to focus on living with the spirits not making war on people.
Skiing on home they spooked a weasel letting it dash under the spruce.
Striking closer to home they were startled by the appearance of a hunter slinking out of the spruce.
<CALLE 161 vagabond hunter>>>
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Nervous from visiting the war camp and the visions of his deaths Calle made the gesture of greeting with an open hand.
The hunter wiped a hand over his face. Tired eyes looked back.
Then the hunter made the gesture of greeting back.
“My name is Sampsa,” he said, “Thank you for the greeting. I have been hunting for winter furs while we can still ski. Armored warrior you worried me that you would bring battle.”
“I am Calle of Swan Cabin and this is Marikka. We have been to scout a war camp to the south east within two days journey.”
Sampsa’s eyes blinked and his head jolted.
Calle explained the location of the war camp though not yet sharing the location of the attack shelters. As a sign of friendship Calle passed to the hunter one of the broadhead arrows he made.
“As a Smith of the North let this gift bring you the harvest you seek. Remember to honor the cycle of life and thank the spirits,” spoke Calle.
“Thank you again,” Sampsa’s eyes woke to a sparkle eyeing the keen edges of the broadhead. Such an arrow could well fell a large animal. One with a thick fur hide and much meat on the body. He held it in both hands over his head before sliding it into his quiver.
Calle pointed out the directions to Maiden Stream, should the hunter end up with meat to trade or in need of safety. They parted ways then.
Soon at Swan Cabin Calle let Marikka to roam in the pen. He took off the metal war gear though chose to keep on the helmet. With care the linen dress was bundled into the rafters over the bed. Foods were restocked to his travel pack and a fire started to warm the cabin. Routinely the traps were checked with one pit being collapsed but nothing in it. Had he missed setting it before he left? The smoke house still lingered with wisps of trapped smoke. A new fire was set to keep the boar meat curing.
He was alive only because he hadn’t tried to fight a battle he couldn’t win. This weighed on his mind.
<CALLE 162 back at Swan Cabin>>>
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It was still morning as Calle decided what to do now. In his trade pile was four shields and a bow. Even if he didn’t lead them to battle just yet he could get these to the Button Stream. Trade or gift. Gear for use against troubles the raiders might cause.
It was late afternoon when he came near the village. To the east across the river he could see a stag elk. A sign of the migration or a warning? For now Calle wouldn’t get nearer. It was a sign that the Nerjpez weren’t prowling as they would have startled it or killed it themselves.
Apro was the first to be given one of the fine wooden shields as Apro already had a bow. The village supplied Calle with a collection of their extra arrows and a spool of thread.
Now to aide Kalvera whose weapons were only a staff and knife, not even a bow! Calle wanted to collect more clothes should a lady, even the Swan Maiden come. He picked out a linen dress, leather leggings, a wool cloak and decent leather shoes. He figured he could make the lady fur or leather footwear to size from his craft stocks and the nettle dress a second outer layer like an apron. For these he passed to Kalvera the longbow, a wooden shield and six of the village’s arrows. Arrows flow like water in the river of trade. It meant now that Kalvera would be a much better fighter should the day come.
The next day on the way to Maiden’s Steam homestead a cow elk and herd of reindeer were found only a few bow lengths away. He could hunt them though his heart new he already had great stocks of food. These were a good sign of the life of the forest. For now he wouldn’t hunt these ones.
Maiden Stream had in trade piles quite a bit of metal armor and various large furs, even one of a bear. He found Sampsa, one of the village men. By the time they finished Sampsa had Button Stream arrows to go with a local Maiden Stream hunting bow and one of the wooden shields Calle had made. In trade Calle gained two bags of rye grains and a birchbark basket of hemp seeds. These are stable foods he could keep long into when his own crops would rise again three seasons from now.
His heart grew full with pride. These people would at least put up a fight now. That in turn might guide the Nerjpez to delay or divert any attack for a while. Returning to Swan Cabin he stored the foods in the yard cellar and the lady’s clothing by the bed.
<CALLE 163 lady clothes at Swan Cabin>>>