Author #3
The women tittered from a few feet away, chattering in their native tongue. Bjorn rubbed his beard and sighed heavily. No doubt they were discussing the scars they could see on his face and arms. Scars from the pox he had survived as a child years before. Those self same scars had plagued him all his life. He knew he was hideous. Many women had told him so. It made him decide as a young man to travel to the new world to seek his fortune there in the wilderness. Perhaps with a fortune he could convince a woman to marry him.
He shook his head and turned back to the man sitting across from him, “Mingan, I have brought many steel knives to trade for the furs.”
Mingan fingered a few of the knives and hissed in pain as one cut his finger, “They are very sharp.”
“Indeed,” Bjorn nodded in agreement, “They will make your lives easier.”
“Do you have…..guns?” Mingan inquired softly.
Bjorn shook his head, “No. They would take up far more room than I have, plus their expense is far greater than the knives. I doubt you could provide enough furs to pay for them.”
Mingan frowned, “I will trade for the knives, then.”
The deal took little more time to complete. In a few hours Bjorn had moved miles northward on his way back to Fort Wayne. It had been a profitable trip, as well as the last one of the season. It would be only a few days before the snow began to fall and make travel impossible.
The chill in the air deepened as the sun began to set. Bjorn set up his camp and settled in front of his fire. He chewed slowly on his dinner as the fire crackled and popped. A rustling in the bushes behind him made him turn quickly. A snout peered out at him, the dark eyes bored into him.
A brown bear padded out and growled at him. Bjorn fumbled at his pack and pulled out his pistol. A single shot weapon, he pointed it at the beast and sat ready to see what the animal would do. It snuffed and snuffled, growling again. It slowly moved forward, gingerly moving it’s right fore paw.
Bjorn’s hand shook as he took aim at the creature.
“Get out of here!” he shouted, “Go on! I have nothing here for you!”
The bear roared, its mouth opening wide as it made an awkward charge at the man. Bjorn fired point blank into the bear’s chest. It bellowed in pain as it tore into the man. Bjorn screamed as the claws tore into his arms and chest. Flesh tore from his left arm as the bear gnawed on it. Bjorn thrashed, his hand grabbing hold of his own knife. With strength born of desperation and terror he thrust it into the beast, over and over again.
His frenzied stabbing fortunately encountered the bear’s heart, tearing it asunder. The bear continued to tear at Bjorn before finally collapsing on top of him. Bjorn grunted and groaned, but he could budge the beast from atop him. He moaned as he felt the first flakes of snow fall onto his eyelids. The air turned even colder as his wounds continued to bleed.
He fell unconscious to the sound of wolves howling in the distance. He awoke to the feeling of the bear being moved from on top of him. He peered blearily up to see men hauling the bear off somewhere. Snow still fell, and he couldn’t seem to see very well. A face swam closer to his face, it was Mingan.
“You are lucky to be alive, Bear Killer,” he chuckled, “It looks like you will add a few more scars to the many you already possess.”
Bjorn coughed, “I think the bear has killed me as well, Mingan.”
Mingan laughed, “Nonsense! A man who has as many scars as you will not allow a few scratches from a bear to kill you.”
Bjorn closed his eyes, “I doubt that.”
He fell unconscious again, only to awaken inside of a wig wam. A beautiful woman was dabbing some horrible smelling unguent on his wounds. He groaned softly, which made her look up at him and smile. Her brown eyes were soft and sparkled with an inner light. Her long black hair fell like an obsidian wave down her back to her waist.
A flap opened and Mingan stepped inside. He noted the look on Bjorn’s face and smiled slightly.
“I see you are awake finally.”
“Apparently I am going to live,” Bjorn smiled wanly, “Lucky me.”
“Lucky the Gods were with you,” Mingan nodded.
“I don’t believe in Gods,” Bjorn muttered, “nor God, for that matter.”
“They believe in you,” Mingan replied, “You were out there under that bear for at least a day, perhaps two.”
Bjorn frowned, “I should have frozen to death.”
“The bear kept you warm,” Mingan shrugged, “ The Gods must love you.”
“How so?” Bjorn coughed, “Water, please.”
The woman looked to Mingan who rattled off his request in their language.
She handed him a gourd full, which he drank greedily, “Thank you.”
She nodded and went back to her work.
“They kept you alive.”
“By sending a bear to kill me?” Bjorn snapped, “That was just plain bad fortune.”
“But you killed the bear,” Mingan reminded him, “Which kept you warm during the snow fall.”
“I wouldn’t have needed the bear to stay warm if it hadn’t attacked me,” Bjorn shook his head, “The next morning I would have been half way to Fort Wayne.”
“Through nearly a foot of snow?” Mingan cocked his head slightly, “I don’t think so. It’s still snowing. I doubt you had enough supplies to make it all the way to your fort.”
Bjorn sighed, “Perhaps. How long was I unconscious?”
“Four days,” Mingan replied, “I am sure you are hungry. Mist on Water has prepared a broth for you.”
Bjorn tried to sit up, only to groan in pain.
“Lay still,” Mingan ordered,” She will feed it to you.”
“I don’t want to burden her with my ugliness,” Bjorn demurred, “I just need a little help to sit up and I will feed myself.”
Mingan laughed, “That would insult her.”
Bjorn frowned in puzzlement, “What are you talking about?”
“She won the right to tend to you,” Mingan informed him, “She out bid eight other women. It would be a terrible insult to refuse her help.”
Bjorn shrugged, wincing in pain, “I don’t understand, but if it will make her happy… I suppose I have no objection.”
Mist on Water did feed him. She also changed the dressing on his wounds and bathed him. He tried to make her understand that he didn’t wish her to bathe him, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. It was a few weeks before he was able to get up and about on his own.
When he did, he stepped out into deep snow and bone chilling cold. He went in search of Mingan, whose dwelling was near by. Finding the other man inside carving the likeness of a bear into a piece of wood he sat down and waited to be noticed.
“Mist on Water wishes to bond with you,” Mingan said softly.
Bjorn goggled, “You must be joking!”
“Have you ever known me to joke?” Mingan inquired.
Bjorn shook his head, “Actually….no.”
“She believes you are a mighty warrior,” Mingan continued.
“I’m no warrior,” Bjorn objected.
“You have many scars,” Mingan shrugged, “You have survived much in your life.”
Bjorn laughed, “Oh, I have. But not battles.”
“The scars,” Mingan looked at him quizzically.
“It was a battle of sorts,” Bjorn admitted, “Not with a human foe, but just as deadly. It killed many of my people.”
“I see,” Mingan grimaced, “She wishes to bond with you…..”
“You’ve already mentioned that. But you must know that I’m a Christian,” Bjorn frowned, “At least I was baptized a Lutheran.”
“I don’t know what a Lutheran is….But she will not convert to your Christianity,” Mingan retorted firmly.
“It’s a kind of Christian,” Bjorn sighed, “Not that she ought to marry me, anyway.”
“That isn’t your decision,” Mingan chuckled.
”Excuse me?” Bjorn exclaimed, “I didn’t ask her to marry me.”
“It doesn’t work that way in our culture,” Mingan smiled, “The woman makes the choice.”
“That’s crazy!!” Bjorn shook his head in amazement, “It’s just not done that way.”
“You white men think that there is only one way to do things,” Mingan grinned, “It is such arrogance that we have found grating at times. You, however, have never tried to lord it over us. Nor act like you were better than us, yet you have the same ridiculous ideas as other whites.”
Bjorn opened his mouth to respond. He closed it as he paused to think.
“Why would she want to marry a white man?” Bjorn asked.
“I told you, she believes you are a mighty warrior,” Mingan reminded him, “Your scars proclaim you as such.”
“She….likes my scars?” Bjorn stared at him incredulously.
“Haven’t you noticed that some of the most heavily scarred men have the happiest bondings?” Mingan inquired.
“Not in my country,” Bjorn sighed.
“You carry badges of courage and honor all over your body,” Mingan informed him, “You are a walking, talking, living monument to courage.”
Bjorn shook his head, “That’s just plain odd.”
“How so?” Mingan inquired, “Being able to survive such obvious adversity and persevere proves courage, tenacity, and the will to survive. All considered attractive features to a woman. A man who can and will provide regardless of the obstacles….Well, that is something a woman looks for in a man.”
Bjorn sat there and thought for awhile. He remembered all the ridicule he had suffered in his native Sweden as a boy and young man. From both male peers as well as girls. Women turned away and wouldn’t look him in the eye. Yet here, in the hinterlands of America the women looked boldly into his eyes. Mist on Water had done so, and he remembered the women giggling as he spoke with Mingan about the furs.
He had thought they were making fun of him, but perhaps….just perhaps they were intrigued by him instead of horrified. It was a novel thought for him. One that he began to think just might be true.
“I’m not really a warrior,” Bjorn reminded him.
“You killed a bear,” Mingan said calmly, “with little more than a knife. With just a knife you killed a creature both larger and stronger than yourself. If that is not a warrior’s spirit I don’t know what is.”
“A warrior’s spirit,” Bjorn marveled, “So you say your gods believe in me, eh?”
“Perhaps you should go on a spirit quest,” Mingan suggested.
“Spirit quest?” Bjorn inquired.
“A man goes into the wild and survives alone while he waits for a vision from the gods,” Mingan explained, “A dream, if you will. One that shows you what your totem animal is to be. A spirit that looks out for you and guards you against evils.”
Bjorn frowned, “While I was unconscious…..”
“Yes?” Mingan leaned forward slightly.
“I dreamed,” Bjorn admitted, “of a bear. Of course, having been mauled by one, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“What did the bear do?” Mingan asked.
“It led me to water,” Bjorn frowned, “and caught a fish, tossing it onto the bank of the river.”
“Then what happened?” Mingan prodded.
“It left.”
“It appears you have already had your spirit quest,” Mingan smiled.
“What are you trying to say?” Bjorn demanded.
“Don’t you see?” Mingan exclaimed, “The bear attacked you in real life to keep you from leaving. The bear in your dream led you to water. It led you to the water to drink and caught a fish for you to eat. The bear is your totem.”
Bjorn grimaced, “Couldn’t I just have a simple dream telling me to stay here?”
“Would you have listened to such a dream?” Mingan queried.
Bjorn shook his head ruefully, “Probably not.”
“So it took a mighty battle to keep you where you belong,” Mingan shrugged his shoulders, “It is the way of the gods.”
Bjorn shook his head, “It sounds crazy….yet I can’t explain my dream any better than you did. It doesn’t make sense for me to have such a dream after being attacked…..”
“So you will stay?” Mingan looked into Bjorn’s eyes.
“I will stay,” Bjorn agreed.
