A/N: You can also read this story on the Creative Cafe website
Sedna knew something was wrong from the moment she woke up and the light of the sun entered through the door of her low, dome-shaped dwelling. She had been asleep on the floor, wrapped in a beaver skin blanket before she became aware of the fact that she was all alone. Where were her brothers and sisters?
She crept towards the entrance of her portable home and realized she didn’t hear the morning chatter of the other band members. Panicking, her heart started to race like the quivering aspens in the distance with their leaves agitated by the wind. She felt an instinctive restlessness stirring inside her as the silence was broken by songbirds singing and flies buzzing. A cool summer morning breeze blew through Sedna’s long black hair.
Finally, the young woman calmed down as she saw her brother approaching from a distance.
“Atka! Are you on your way to the creek? Don’t forget your pronged spear.” She reminded him. Then her face fell as Atka came closer and she noticed the grave expression on his face.
“Little Chaska…” he started slowly as if what he was about to say would be devastating “is very ill. Grandmother Niska fears for our young sister’s life.”
Sedna jolted up. She thought of Chaska, the child who had only seen five winters but who was already mature for her age and always worked without complaining at weaving baskets or gathering herbs. She hadn’t told anyone about symptoms. All this while, Chaska had been suffering in silence.
“Where is she?” Sedna demanded.
“Come.”
A wigwam-like structure had hastily been set up with walls made from caribou hides sewn together. Inside, poor little Chaska lay on a twine mat. The silver-haired wise woman Niska had her hand on the child’s forehead to feel her temperature.
“It is the Fever” the wise woman pronounced. “Chaska is in the Creator’s hands now.”
The other small children of the band sat nearby. Normally, Niska gave them lessons in the morning. She taught them the songs and stories of the ancestors as well as practical skills like basketry. Their small fingers were perfectly suited for the task of weaving. Today they sat silent and dreadful, fearing for Chaska’s life.
“There has to be something we can do” Sedna insisted, not being able to bare the sight of her little sister ill.
“Grandmother Niska has tried everything” said Atka. “We must continue with the seasonal rounds. Go and collect chenopodium plants for our meal and check the rabbit snares.”
“No! I can’t leave her.”
“You must. Go do your job.”
Sedna glanced at the dreadfully pale Chaska with beads of sweat on her forehead. The child kept tossing and turning in bed.
“Trust me. She is in good hands. Niska will be here as will I, as there will be no need for fish today since Denahi killed a deer. But you still need to do the gathering. She needs that food too.”
Sedna nodded in understanding. She knew she had to listen to her elders, and Atka was three years older than her.
She made her way into the forest with a plaited cattail basket in her hand. Normally she would hum as she picked the chenopodium plants, but now her mind was too plagued with worry for that. After filling her basket, she went to the creek and put her feet in the water. It was cool water even though it was a hot summer day, for the shade from the overhead trees prevented the water from heating up. She set the basket of chenopodium on the rock beside her.
“I need this break” Sedna said. She had to ponder Chaska’s condition and try to think of something to save the little girl’s life. No ideas came to her and she felt frustrated. It was at the same time that she realized all the snares set by her brothers Atka and Denahi were empty. With another pang of disgust, her eyes fell upon the fishing weir built in the creek and noticed a trap set up inside it that did not look like the ones her band made. Had outsiders arrived in their territory?
Suddenly Sedna’s thoughts were interrupted as an atlatl dart whizzed by her head. She ducked just in time for the feathered dart to embed itself in the cedar tree behind her.
“What in the name of the ancestors do you think you’re doing?!” she angrily demanded of the hidden hunter.
“I beg your pardon. I was stalking a caribou, but it’s gone now” a voice said. It spoke in a foreign accent, but the tongue was Sedna’s own. Clearly this unskillful hunter was of a different band.
Sedna wanted to yell at him for being so clumsy with the atlatl, but when she beheld him she was so awestruck by his exquisite beauty that for a few moments she forgot about her misery.
“I am new in this territory but I see it has a lot of cedar trees, just like the last site my band lived at.” He said. He had long, black hair and flawless copper skin. He also had high cheekbones, and his chest was bare but for a necklace of bear claws.
Sedna pointed at the atlatl he held. “You need to be careful with that, you idiot.” She snapped.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t have been in the way.” He teased. It took all of Sedna’s self control not to burst into a fit of rage.
“What a jerk! Did your clan banish you because you’re a terrible hunter?” She taunted.
Now the hunter’s eyebrows furrowed in irritation, for Sedna had delivered a grave insult. But he softened when he noticed how red Sedna’s eyes were and the traces of tears that still stained her blotchy cheeks.
“You seem troubled. Please allow me to make up for my clumsiness by helping you, if I can.”
Sedna noticed that his tone became gentler and he seemed genuine and kind.
“I am called Sitka” he added.
“Sedna” Sedna offered.
“Why does it look like you’re having a rough day, Sedna?”
“My sister Chaska is ill and the wisest woman of our clan believes there is no hope.”
“My father is a very skilled healer. He teaches me. Perhaps I can help you, but you must describe her symptoms to me in detail.”
Sedna had no choice but to trust the stranger. He seemed like he really did care and he listened patiently as she explained the situation.
Finally Sitka’s fierce obsidian eyes flashed with a glimmer of hope.
“Listen Sedna, you will need to pick the cedar needles, enough to boil in a strong tea. Add clover too.”
She listened to the instructions carefully. This was all she could do to help Chaska. Sitka passed her a bifacial hafted knife to help cut off a branch of the cedar tree.
Sitka started making a fire. He wanted to impress Sedna by getting one crackling quickly, but of course this did not happen. Sedna collected the firewood. She decided to ask Sitka a bit more about his life.
“What’s your band like?”
“It’s me and my three brothers and seven sisters. We have a lot of young children and elders too. Normally we are a fishing people, but our resources were exhausted which is why we had to come here to the headwaters area.”
“A fishing people? Is that why you can’t throw an atlatl?” Sedna laughed.
Sitka did not mind. He was glad that she was feeling a bit better.
“My brother Atka is also really good at fishing, you know. He once caught a giant catfish all by himself.” She told him.
As Sedna and Sitka started heading back to the camp where Sedna’s band lived, Sedna realized that if the medicine worked her band would owe a great debt to Sitka and his people.
Sitka was certain that all eyes were on him, the outsider, as he walked into camp with his atlatl in hand. Sedna’s people tried to be as hospitable as possible to show off the wealth of their band. Atka gave Sitka a warm welcome.
“Greetings, newcomer. I see you have met my sister Sedna. I’m Atka. Would you like some Sumac tea?”
Sitka of course did not reject the offer, even though he was in a rush.
“I suggest you drink it by the hearth over there. Don’t come into our dwelling. We have some serious matters to attend to.” Atka told him. Even as he said these words, he looked apologetic.
“No, Sitka will come with us. He’s here to help.” Sedna insisted.
After hesitating for a few moments, Atka reluctantly agreed. The cedar and clover tea was stored in a basket that had been so finely woven that not a drop seeped through. The atlatl wielder took the basket and bent over to enter the structure where Chaska lay. Grandmother Niska hunched over the child and muttered prayers, but even she had to admit that they had no choice but to listen to the outsider. Sitka pressed the rim of the basket to the child’s thin lips. Sedna and Atka watched in awe and wonder as Chaska started to sit up and the colour came back to her cheeks. Niska was so relieved that she cried tears of joy and embraced Sitka. “You and your people will always be welcome among us.” She declared.
In the evening, Sitka brought the rest of his band over to join Sedna’s people. There was a grand feast of cattail root stew, deer meat, sumac tea, and chenopodium salad.
“You are a great cook.” Sitka remarked when he tasted Sedna’s chenopodium.
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” She beamed at the compliment.
“I did not know this plant grew so far north. I have seen huge settlements in the south that have forests of it.”
“That sounds incredible. I didn’t know you were so well-travelled!”
“I have seen many things. Sometimes, I swapped items with other people, such as projectile points for shells.” Here he held up a beautiful white shell and pressed it into Sedna’s palm. “For you.”
She was delighted.
“Anyway, I was thinking that the entertainment tonight could be in the form of an atlatl throwing contest.”
“You would lose!”
“Maybe” he admitted. “But if I win, will you marry me?”
“Alright” she agreed. “But only if you win. That way I’ll know you’re a good hunter and capable of providing for me.”
“It will help to secure an alliance between our bands as well” he said.
“I agree.”
“Then I shall surely win” he declared, winking at Sedna and flipping his hair.
Indeed that night he ended up winning and gained Sedna’s hand and a twine hammock as his prize. He gave a wide, triumphant smile.
After that, they lived happily ever after and had seven children with long hair and round faces with chubby cheeks. Chaska grew to become a wise woman and carry on the stories and songs of the land.
End~
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