Chapter 42
“Koryo,” 21-9 K
(SW OR, 1389-97)
The next morning, we dragged our boat well above the beach into the trees. We then took all our belongings and made the trek overland toward the settlement on the lake that Ignace had found. We seemed to be heading southeast and within a few hours were within sight of the lake and the abandoned village. The lake was perhaps six li from east to west and about one and a half li from north to south (it had something of a crescent shape with a finger extending north from the middle). There was a river emptying into its eastern end from the north, and the river draining it was at its western end. The village was nearer the western end, on the northern shore, west of the “finger.” It was not very large, only six houses, but the houses were quite large, about fifteen feet wide and thirty to forty feet long. They were made of wooden planks, much like those of the Tsinuks. Each had a large central fire pit with a raised plank floor and plank benches. There was a long pole for smoking meat and skins over the fire pit. There was a small patch of garden where the locals had cultivated a little nawak’osis. We cleaned out two of the houses, the largest and the smallest, and then patched them up with pieces cannibalized from the other houses. We then built a sweat bath, which Seagull felt was essential, and I had finally grown to enjoy.
The next day, Seagull began his “preparations” for his marriage. He was determined to do everything correctly. He set out alone on an expedition to find a worthy bride gift for Paula and me, even though we assured him it wasn’t necessary. Mathilde took over fixing up the smaller house to her satisfaction with the enthusiastic help of Ludmilla. Ignace and Theodore went hunting, and I helped Paula fix up our house. It was strange living in a house after all these years in a tent or yurt, and this was a strange house. But we had both lived in houses in Khanbalikh, and starting over like this made us feel young again.
Seagull was gone for quite a while, and Mathilde was beside herself worrying about him, but I assured her, it was not unusual that he was searching long and hard for a worthwhile gift, since he greatly valued her, and our opinion. Meanwhile, the houses were looking quite habitable, and the boys had found considerable game in the surrounding hills. As summer waned, flocks of waterfowl landed in “our” lake, and we added a few of them to our larder. The lake also abounded in fish, and even with my limited skills, we were able to catch quite a few of them as well. We also were able to gather berries. Even though it was late spring, we cleared a patch of ground and planted a small garden with the vegetable seeds Paula had thought to bring along, and it was coming along nicely. There was no shortage of rain, and we were frequently blanketed in fog, but the climate was quite mild.
Finally, in early fall Seagull returned. The boys and I were at the stream that emptied into the lake trying to figure out a way to catch some of the huge salmon that were just beginning to make their run upstream, when we heard horses. Thinking it might be trouble, we put arrows in our bows, hid, and waited to see who it was. Suddenly, out of the woods Seagull emerged riding one horse and leading a dozen more. We jumped up and greeted him. He proudly leaped off his horse, embraced me, and handed me the reins. This was his bride gift to me, horses. It seems he was of a mind to find horses for us all along and remembering how many were running wild to the north, he reasoned that there might also be some to the east. He crossed over the mountains into the large valley between them and another taller range farther east. There he found the remnants of the Kalapoewah at the upper limits of the valley, but farther downriver there were only deserted villages and many horses running wild and free. He quickly rounded up this small herd and got them used to being ridden again. It wasn’t too hard, but it did take time. He then brought them back. He had prudently avoided any contact with the locals, just in case he might be recognized. Needless to say I was delighted with the gift. It is very hard to be a Mongol without a horse.
We went back to the houses on horseback with more than a little rowdiness from the boys. Theodore was put in charge of feeding and watering the herd. Mathilde was most relieved to have her intended back in one piece, and Paula was also delighted to have horses again. Seagull showed us how the Tsinuk caught salmon by blocking the stream with nets. He insisted that we first catch one, place it on a stone facing upstream, thank the salmon spirits for letting us catch it, roast it, each eat some of it, then throw the bones back in the river. If we did this each year, we would never want for salmon. It was not the first time things had been delayed by the local beliefs, but it was hard to criticize them, since they merely evinced reverence for the animals on which they depended for sustenance. In a way, I found it both touching and wise.
I asked Seagull if he had some elaborate ritual in mind for marrying Mathilde, but much to my relief he didn’t. He would merely purify himself for three days, and then be ready. He did not expect Mathilde to do anything she wasn’t accustomed to do. At the end of the third day, he would present himself to us for any ritual we had in mind, and then take his bride. His purification rites were not easy. He rose early in the morning, stoked up the sweat bath, steamed himself, rubbed down with fir boughs, plunged into the lake, and spent the day alone in quiet meditation. He took no food, only drank a little water, and smoked a little nawak’osis during this time. Mathilde spent the time fussing over her wedding outfit and her hair, assisted by her mother and sister. The boys and I caught and smoked salmon. We had cleaned up another of the houses for use as a smoke house (since none of us were very fond of choking) and put it to good use. On the third day, I thought I should ask Mathilde what sort of ceremony she had in mind. That gave her something else to think about for a while, but she finally came back and said she wanted the same ceremony Paula and I had had. Fortunately Paula had a better memory than I had for such things and remembered her uncle’s exact words on that day long ago on the banks of the Sungari. I wrote them down and was ready that evening when at last Seagull presented himself.
He had a final surprise for us. He presented us with a huge sturgeon he had caught in our lake. It was already cleaned and roasted. He had dressed in his finest Ordu “uniform” and carried himself with remarkable dignity and strength for a man who must have been starving. Mathilde made a beautiful bride, reminding me very much of her mother. The ritual was mercifully brief, and we had quite a feast to celebrate. Not only was there the sturgeon, but also salmon, venison, duck, the mondamin grain, and other vegetables, followed by bowls of fresh and dried berries. After the feast, Seagull and Mathilde set up housekeeping in the small house.
The fall and winter were not harsh. Although there were some remarkable rainstorms, there was very little snow. We retrieved our boat after the first such storm and found it still seaworthy, although its paint was badly worn. We dragged it back with the help of the horses. The mild weather inspired me to look around a bit at our surroundings. I found the Caiyukla River to the south. It was bounded by tall sand dunes on both sides along the coast. They extended for some distance to the south, but not as far as our river to the north. I decided to call our river the Koryo River, since that was where we were supposed to be. I also named our lake Seagull Lake, for no one could get larger fish out of it with less trouble than he could. There was a smaller lake closer to the coast, and I named it for Mathilde. This caused a little jealousy among the other children, but I promised them a worthwhile landmark when it presented itself.
Another project for the winter was building a forge for Ignace. He wanted to continue honing his skills, and we might need some metalwork before long. He had some iron scraps with him, but there was no coal or iron ore in the surrounding mountains, although there was lime. We did find some scraps of steel around the village, mostly arrowheads and a few copper bangles. I made him one of the double bellows of the Hanjen, which got him temperatures from burning wood just hot enough to do some work.
In the spring, Mathilde, now quite heavy with child, began looking around for certain herbs and other medicinal plants to build up her considerable inventory. Ludmilla had shown some interest and was helping her. Ignace kept us in fresh meat and worked his forge. Theodore had become adept at fishing with Seagull’s coaching and added this to his groomsman duties. Paula and I started another garden. Once it was planted, Seagull and I did some reconnoitering. I thought it best that we find out just where around us there were occupied villages. As the population began to rebound from the plague, there would be inevitable expansion, and eventually we might be found.
To the north, we found the remnants of the four tribes that had lived along this part of the coast still clustered in a few villages along the Alsi River about seventy-five li north of our river. There were signs that they were rebounding, however, and they seemed to be close to outgrowing their villages. To the east, the nearest villages were in the upper part of the Kalapoewah Valley, where Seagull had found them last fall, about ninety li away from us. Southeast of us, we had to go to the upper reaches of the Etnemitane River to find the remnants of its namesake tribe. They were beginning to range some distance on their hunting expeditions, but not in our direction. Their nearest village was about one hundred twenty li southeast from us. About the same distance due south of us were the Kusa. They had not been as reduced as some of the others around us. They had villages around an excellent natural harbor as well as along the river that was named for them. The sand dunes north of them tended to channel their expansion inland rather than toward us. It looked like our northern neighbor would be the most likely to come upon us. I decided we would have to check them out every few months, and everyone in the spring.
On our way back from the Kusa, we stopped at any deserted village we found to see if we could find anything of use to us. We found a few scraps of metal, mostly copper, for Ignace, and some decent arrows, but little else. Most of these villages had belonged to the Etnemitane, a somewhat primitive tribe related in language to the faraway Tinneh. We had almost reached the limits of their former territory, when we were astonished to see a bit of smoke coming from one of the houses in a village. We came closer for a look and were surprised to see a young woman, seemingly alone working in front of one of the houses. She was busily preparing a rabbit for a meal. We waited to see if anyone would join her, but as we watched, she roasted the rabbit and cleaned and stretched the skin. Then she ate the small meal with great deliberation, savoring as if she had not eaten in a while. She was definitely alone. We agreed it wasn’t safe for her, and I sent Seagull in to see if she would want to go join her people upstream. If she did, he could guide her there, and I would wait for him. I thought it best if I not show my face, since I did stand out in a crowd.
Before long, Seagull was back. The woman was willing to join our “band,” but she would not go upriver to her relatives. It turned out that she was not an Etnemitane, but had been married to one. He and her young son had gone to visit the Salmon Ordu shortly after the plague broke out. They had perished, but she was unaware and had finally gone north to find out what had happened to them. She encountered one of the men I had sent to give the treatment and had taken it, thinking that surely her husband and child had also. When she arrived at the Ordu and learned the truth, she returned to her old home in despair only to find it deserted except for her father-in-law. She had nursed him back to health, but he had died during the past winter. She had no one among the Etnemitane who would welcome her back, and indeed might not know any more of them, since most in her village had died. Her birth tribe was from the south, the Da-a-gelma’n, who lived along the river named for them. They had been greatly reduced by the plague, and she had no reason to return to them either. Seagull felt we should let her join us. I had to agree.
She was somewhat taken aback when she first saw me. She had heard that there were pale people like me, but had never seen one before. I explained, that except for Seagull, the entire band she was joining was pale. She felt it could be no worse than getting used to the Etnemitane, and was much better than living alone. She was an attractive woman in her early twenties, and I had to wonder if Ignace would find her so. I explained to her that we would help her fix up a house of her own if she wished or she could live with us. She could help in any way she felt competent to do so, and no particular demands would be made on her. She was most eager to join us.
We found a few more deserted villages on the way, but no more denizens thereof. We finally reached home and introduced our new guest all around. Her name among the Etnemitane had been “Earth Woman” because her people lived “in the ground.” Actually their houses were only partially in the ground like those of the Nimipu. In any case, she wanted a new name to go along with her new status and eventually picked Daldal. It seemed to be some sort of private joke with her, since she always laughed when we called her that. She lived for a while with us, and then decided it would be better if she lived in her own home. We helped her fix it up, and eventually, by the fall, Ignace came to us to ask our approval of his marriage to her. She was a wonderful woman, and we thought he had made a wise choice. Oddly, Ignace chose to go through the same purification ritual that Seagull had. He felt it had brought Seagull good fortune. Daldal also went through some sort of ritual, but it was not for men to know about, so I can’t report on it. They also wanted the same marriage ritual as Seagull and Mathilde had, and we had another appropriate feast. Meanwhile, Mathilde had delivered a daughter in the summer and named her Christina.
The next few years were peaceful and quiet for us. Mathilde and Seagull had another daughter, Miriam (after Paula’s aunt). Ignace and Daldal had a son, Simon (after Paula’s grandfather). We planted, harvested, fished, hunted, and kept an eye on our neighbors. As I expected, those in the north began to move. First they moved east up their river, then north and south along its tributary streams, then south to another small river. Soon it became obvious their next move would be still farther south. I figured we only had another few years. The yam system had been restored, but it was on the other side of the mountains with offshoots leading to the tribe concentrations on this side, well north and south of us.
In spring of the fifth year of our “exile,” there were a number of developments. The most shocking was that Paula delivered another son. I had thought surely we would have no more, but it happened that she had been suffering from some sort of ailment and finally, Mathilde had come up with a formula that cured it. We named the boy John. Our children also each had another child, Mathilde a boy, Henry, and Ignace a girl, Ruth. It was amazing having little children running around again. We again made the annual check on all our neighbors. The Kusa had begun moving a little north and now occupied the mouth of the Etnemitane River. The Etnemitane had begun to move back down the river and had reached Daldal’s old village. The Kalapoewah were moving north down their valley. The northern group had moved to within thirty li of us, and it would be unlikely that they wouldn’t eventually notice us while they were hunting. We had to decide what to do next.
I thought it would be safe for us to stay another summer here, but we should move away in the fall, for that was when the hunters ranged the farthest. I decided to make it my job to find another place for us to live. I had Ignace, Theodore, and Seagull take turns watching the encroaching neighbors and, once the garden was planted, went east toward the mountains. Actually, I already had a site in mind and merely wanted to make sure it would do for at least a few years. The site was about forty-five li due east of our current home. It was on the banks of the Caiyukla River at least sixty li from the mouth just after a large northward bend in the river as it came down through the foothills of the coastal mountains. It was a large level area that had once been settled, but was now grassland giving way to a forest. The village site was overgrown, and the planks rotted away. It even looked like there were other still older sites across the river. The river was about a li wide at this point and was moving a little too swiftly at this time of year for me to try a crossing. I could see a couple of mountains to the south and southeast that might serve as observation posts for those directions, but since the most likely encroachment remained from the north, they would likely be of little use. There was plenty of game in the surrounding forest, and the river teemed with fish. The land would be easily usable for cultivation. On the whole, this site was at least as good as our current home and should serve for a few more years.
I returned home and told the others about the site. The boys had seen it already during various hunting expeditions and were enthusiastic about it; the women needed to see it first. Once they had seen it, they also thought it ideal. I felt it would be best if we allowed our “village” to become a bit rundown, and take the best planks from the unused houses and take them to the other site and begin our new village. We built a wagon and began hauling things to the other site. At Ignace’s suggestion, we first built him a house, and he and his family moved there to expedite work on the other houses. Every several days, I would haul another wagonload there and stay a couple of days to work on the houses. They were quickly taking shape, and by midsummer all were ready. We moved Paula and the younger children in the late summer and Seagull and Mathilde followed last. He wanted to get a good supply of salmon before leaving. We dismantled and moved Ignace’s forge and the sweathouse, harvested the last of our garden, and left the now partially overgrown site. We tried to make it look as much as possible like it had when we found it. I thought it best if we collapse the houses and fire the site so as to further cover our presence there. I reasoned that a fire would explain why the site wasn’t more heavily overgrown. I waited until a nearby thunderstorm preceded by much lightning to fire the site. It didn’t burn long before the rain moved in and put it out, but it did burn enough.
The winter was pleasantly mild and passed uneventfully. In the spring, we again reconnoitered our neighbors and found little change except in the north. There was now a settlement on the stream fifteen li north of the Koryo. The villagers were no doubt hunting and fishing around our old Lake Seagull. That summer, there were more children, another son for Ignace and Daldal, Peter (over my protest), and another son for Seagull and Mathilde, Leo (some forgotten relative of Paula’s―we were running out of names). Paula had no more surprises for me, but John was healthy and growing like a weed. All the children seemed to thrive here.
The following spring, Theodore presented himself and requested permission to go on a vision quest. I detected Seagull’s hand in this, but I didn’t want to deny the boy’s request. Still, it was imperative that we not be found, and I emphasized that to him. He understood and said he would go no farther than the mountain to the southeast. I insisted that he wait until our annual neighbor inventory, and he agreed. We found no real change from the year before. I even climbed the mountain and found it unoccupied with no sign of anyone being nearby. When we got back, I wished Theodore good luck on his quest. He was gone longer than I expected, but returned before I got alarmed. He wanted to discuss his quest with Seagull, Ignace, and me as soon as possible. We got together at a spot a little upstream from our settlement. We sat down in a circle, and Theodore began to speak.
“I went directly to the mountain on foot, so it took most of the morning. As Seagull said, the animals did not disturb me as I went. I climbed the mountain and sat near the top, among the trees. I sat there all night and neither saw or dreamed anything. The next morning, I walked to a spot where a cliff gives a clear view toward the west. I drank a little water and sat down. A fog rolled in and covered all the low ground before me leaving only my mountain and the one to the west above the fog cloud. I felt almost like I was floating above the ground. Then I saw an eagle rise up through the fog carrying a fish. He circled majestically looking for his nest. Suddenly a large shadow passed over the sun, and the startled eagle dropped the fish and plunged back into fog to recover it. Looking eastward for the cause of the shadow I saw an isolated cloud, and under it there was a lone raven flying toward the south. I saw no more of the eagle. The fog lifted at midday, and I saw nothing more that day, and returned to my night spot. I remembered no dreams.
“The next morning, I again took up my position on the cliff. There was no fog this time, and I could see the sea to the northwest. Flocks of seabirds were just visible as specks diving into and hovering over the water. Again I saw an eagle rise from below carrying a fish. He flew directly to his nest and fed the fish to his hatchling, bit by bit. The hatchling would not eat, however, but merely sat impassively ignoring the offered morsels. Finally, it crouched down and moved no more. Its parent kept offering it food for a while, then left the nest and flew toward the sea. Another eagle landed on the nest, prodded the hatchling with his beak, then took the fish and flew toward the north. I saw no more that day, but that night I dreamed that an eagle chased a raven through the sky until it lost it in the setting sun. It returned in triumph only to be shot out of the sky by an arrow. Then the raven flew back out of the setting sun.
“The next morning, I returned to the cliff. The eagle’s nest was empty, but I saw another eagle rise up from a different nest a little to the south. Its eaglet had just hatched, and it soon returned with a fish to feed it. Its mate followed, and the hatchling ate everything offered to it. That night, I dreamed that an eagle flew up from the south and landed next to a raven. After a moment, the raven flew to the south, while the eagle watched him. I came back this morning after waking from that dream.”
“This is not a personal vision, Theodore.” Seagull shook his head. “You have seen a vision of the future. On a vision quest, you must wait for a personal vision, one that will have meaning to you alone and will guide you during the rest of your life. This vision will not serve you in that way.”
“What do you mean, ‘a vision of the future’?” I asked reluctantly.
“He has seen that Kuyuk will be killed, Juchi will take over, and he will send you south.”
“I see.” I learned long ago not to argue with mystics.
“Perhaps you should try again in the fall, Theodore,” he said.
“I will.”
My dreams had always been ridiculous and were more irritating because they seemed perfectly reasonable while I was dreaming them. I suppose that was why I had little faith in dreams. Seagull, on the other hand, had complete faith in them and expressed pity for me that I did not dream more. (I had told him I didn’t remember my dreams since I found them so stupid.) Actually, even if Kuyuk did die, we had no way of knowing it as isolated as we were. I was curious about what was going on in the rest of the land, but we really had no way of finding out without compromising our position. In the fall, Theodore again went on a vision quest. This time he returned in a few days with a rather serene air about him. He did not request another gathering to discuss his experience, but simply said that his quest had been successful, and he was quite happy about it.
The following spring, there was no more encroachment, but all the settlements we saw were thriving and would likely be expanding again. I thought it best that we check them all again in the fall. More children were born, both daughters, Sarah (my grandmother) to Mathilde and Seagull, and Paulina to Ignace and Daldal. We had found it necessary to enlarge the houses. All was quite fine until late summer when Seagull came to see me and asked me to join him in a sweat bath. We fired it up and entered it. After waiting a few minutes, he spoke.
“I have seen a vision that I must tell you about. There is a great death raging in the land. It is not just in the west this time, but it has spread across the mountains and even to the far south. I have seen that it will not harm you or the other Mongols from the old land, but it will kill me. I do not fear it or the death it brings, but I would not leave my family alone. Should we go to see our neighbors, we will find it, and it will find us. I would, therefore, prefer to stay here with my family, and I urge you not leave our enclave or, if you must, not to return with the death.”
“If another plague had attacked the people, I must go at once and see if I can stop it. I can hardly wait here while it destroys all the people. Did you see any detail about the plague in your vision?”
“No, I only know that it kills and that it causes fever and breathing problems.”
“I will go alone this year. If I find any signs of plague, I will not return until and unless I am certain there is no further danger.”
“I knew you would, and I would have thought less of you if you hadn’t. I hope you can stop this death like you did the last one.”
“I can’t think of any other disease that responds as surely to prevention as the barbarian pox. But perhaps I will recognize the disease and know of some treatment for it.”
We rubbed down and plunged into the river. I got out, dried off and went to tell Paula the news. I called a general meeting of the family and explained the situation to them. Ignace and Theodore immediately volunteered to go anyway, but I insisted that they remain and take care of their mother and the other children. Paula was afraid it would mean another long separation, and she clung tightly to me all that night. The next morning, I bid them all goodbye and rode north to see what I would see.