the top over the fire hole. When they were finished, the girls went inside their newly created structure to inspect it.
“It looks good,” Oobata said.
“Yes, it is good,” Mishbee said. “I like our new home.”
“We’re good building partners.”
Mishbee smiled at her sister. “And good friends.”
It was hard to believe that this small group of people could construct this temporary home in little more than an hour.
Mishbee went back outside to gather firewood and some tree boughs. She dug out a fire pit in the centre of the wigwam, then scooped out a little hollow for herself to sleep in. Mishbee lined the hole with several boughs and a caribou skin. She was looking forward to curling up in her new bed tonight.
They finished setting up the new camp just in time. The sky grew quite dark, and before long rain fell in great sheets. Lightning illuminated the sky and the thunder spoke. The small band of people eagerly took refuge inside their wigwams.
“When the sky is blue, it’s bluer than the sea,” Oobata said to Mishbee, “but when it’s grey, it’s truly dismal.”
Mishbee heard the pelting rain hit the birchbark exterior. She was grateful that her father had already started a fire in the centre of the wigwam.
“Yes, it’s certainly a dismal night outside,” Mishbee said. But it wasn’t dismal inside the wigwam. She stared at the flickering fire as the flames danced and cast warm shadows on the faces of her family. She didn’t care that it was pouring outside. The past two days had been long and tiring for her. The hours had been filled with hard work, terror, and travel. It was a great relief just to sit around the fire in the comfort of her family’s shelter.
Mishbee’s mother had taken a cormorant that her father had caught and skewered it to roast it on the fire. Mishbee took some of the berries she had picked the day before and ate them with the pieces of flesh off the bird. It felt good to eat, good to be here, and good to be alive.
“Mishbee,” her father said as soon as they finished their supper, “you worked well today. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, Father,” she said, pleased with herself.
“You’re a good girl.”
That night Mishbee curled up into a very contented ball. Unlike the previous evening, she closed her eyes and slept well.
CHAPTER 4
Bang, Bang! The distant sound of hammering echoed through John’s once-sleeping body. He had only been on Exploits Island for a little over two weeks and already he despised waking up to the sound of hammering in the middle of the night. It meant only one thing.
A deep chill overtook him as he stumbled out of bed to find his pocket watch. The moon was bright, and he was able to read the time by the window. “One o’clock,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head and slowly crawling back into bed. There was nothing he could do except listen to the ominous pounding ring throughout the cove. John didn’t know how long it went on, but finally the incessant din stopped. However, he didn’t find any comfort in the silence. It simply meant the coffin must be finished.
Finally, John drifted back into a fitful sleep, only to be awakened by the sound of voices coming from the common room. He had obviously overslept. Elizabeth Manuel’s friend Gertie was over for tea.
“How’s the boy making out, Lizzie?” he heard Gertie ask.
“Oh, not too bad, dear. It’s been a lot for him. You know he’s only fifteen, and making that long voyage across the ocean alone all the way from Yarmouth for someone his age is no picnic, I’m sure. I think he misses his father and sister. It’s my understanding they were very close. Can I get you more tea?” Elizabeth offered.
“What about his mother?”
“Oh, she passed on a few years back. It’s a shame for a youngster to grow up without a mother. She was a distant relative of my husband Joseph’s, you know. It was only proper that we offer to bring him over here and teach him a trade at his father’s request. Joseph says the young lad has a real talent with wood. He’ll be a good apprentice building those schooners, and Joseph can use all the help he can get. This island is no longer a little fishing stop anymore. Each passing day since Joseph and his brothers, Samuel and William, decided to settle here year-round, more and more people have also decided to stay and make a go of it. We’re only a handful of families right now, but I dare say that in a couple of years Exploits will be a regular little establishment.”
Gertie chuckled. “Yes, ’tis true. I can hardly believe we stayed last winter. Fred has a way of convincing me of these things. However, many o’ days I miss England!”
“Speaking about youngsters without mothers, it’s a crying shame about Maud last night. Poor little Sarah and Annie. They’ll be bringing each other up now, I suppose. That’s a pity — youngsters raising themselves.”
“Yes, it certainly is. And poor Allen. As if he hasn’t been through enough losing a brother to them savages. And now a sister to disease.”
John instantly thought of Mishbee. How could she be a savage? He was relieved that the ladies were no longer talking about him but devastated that the coffin being built in the middle of the night was for Allen’s sister, Maud. John quickly washed and dressed. He had to find his friend.
However, John couldn’t escape breakfast. Mrs. Manuel fussed and made him sit at the table for tea, bread and butter, and a hardboiled egg for strength. He looked at her closely as she busied herself in the kitchen. She didn’t look like the women in Yarmouth with their perfectly styled hair and smart and tidy clothes. The porcelain complexions of England were replaced with rough, weathered skin, tough hands from hard labour, and greying hair barely kept under control. It was a different kind of beauty. It was the beauty of strength and fortitude. It wasn’t worn on the outside like a fancy hat, but rather, on the inside like a permanent badge of courage.
When he finished breakfast, John stepped outside. Joseph Manuel would be down by the dock or at the lumber yard or maybe catching fish for this evening’s supper. It seemed impossible that only yesterday he had met Mishbee and only last night Maud had died. Both events seemed lifetimes apart. It didn’t feel right that the sun was shining so brightly and that the ocean sparkled so beautifully. He took a moment to scan the scenery of this new island home where he had already begun to sink tentative roots into. From the inner harbour he could see the rocky hills that made up this harsh landscape. A dozen or so wooden homes peppered the shoreline randomly, decorating the desolate land with spurts of colour.
Several docks protruded into the ocean. Although minor intrusions in this vast expanse of water, these docks housed the essential transportation the settlers needed for survival. As John walked up the hill towards Allen’s house, he passed the graveyard and then several fishing nets set out for mending. The smell of smoke wafting from chimneys was mixed with the odours of fish and salt air.
Maud’s body was laid out in the front room of Allen’s house. Allen looked sullen when John entered. Edgar, Maud’s husband, and their two young girls, Sarah and Annie, stared blankly at the coffin.
“I’m sorry, Allen,” John said.
“Yes, well, it’s a cruel world,
