The Tale Of Tadpole Boy: Chapter Three
Chief Seal Tooth glanced over the crowded room. All the fathers of the households in the village, at least the important ones, were sitting around the fire pit. He, like the others, was very upset about the strange events that had been happening during the last few days.
Omen, Mink, and Robin had reported strange happenings to their husband. Many times they, and the other women in the household, had suddenly found themselves nude, covered in sweat, and feeling as if they had just had intercourse with a man. It had happened many times during the past week.
Chief Seal Tooth was enraged and worried at the same time. He wanted to kill whoever was doing this, but he also feared strong magic.
He had asked all the male heads of the households to come to his house to discuss the events of the last few days. He had found out just how wide spread the troubles were.
Items had gone missing yet family members insisted that they had not. Food was gone that nobody remembered eating. Some of the mothers had reported their daughters had lost their virginity yet none had been visited by suitors nor had any been allowed to meet males in private.
Fear was rippling just under the calm faces of his people. They had faced long famine and wild beasts. They had faced harsh winters and battles with enemy tribes. Yet this was unknown to them and it scared them.
He waved his hands, asking the crowd to calm down, and said, “You all know what problems we are having. We do not know what we are facing. We do not know what is causing it. So I will ask advice from each of you. Give me your wisdom.”
All the men nodded.
“It is not any monster that I know of,” said one of the elder hunters. “They enslave people or eat them. I assume we are dealing with a troublesome spirit or a witch.”
All the men nodded.
“Yes,” added one of the younger men. “But which spirit? There are different types with different weaknesses and strengths. Handle it wrong and we may make things worse.”
All the men nodded.
“We need to bring in Wind Talker,” remarked one of the middle aged hunters.
All the men nodded.
Wind Talker was an old, old Shaman. He lived in the forest, with his seal fat soaked clothing and his long tangled hair. He was so old they say he was one of the Shamans who helped give birth to the Mouse Woman and many other spirits.
“Three of our best warriors must go,” said Chief Seal Tooth. “It may be dangerous. Whoever or whatever it is may try to stop you. You may be killed.”
All the men nodded. None volunteered.
Chief Seal Tooth decided to take things into his own rough hands. He turned his head back and forth, eyeing the men as they tried not to make eye contact and finally pointed.
“You, Red Bird,” he said with pride in his voice. “You are the youngest and strongest of our hunters. Surely you can go meet the Shaman and bring him back to help us?”
Red Bird looked a tad uncomfortable. “I would go in a minute oh great Chief,” said the hunter, “but I have two young children, barely old enough to walk. How would they care for their Mother if I die? Who could feed their growing hunger in the winter if I am lost?”
“True,” said the Chief, who understood the young man’s fears. Family was important. He turned his head back and forth, eyeing the men as they tried not to make eye contact and again pointed.
“You! Stone Maker,” he said with love in his voice. “You have lived many years. You have children and grand children. You are old but have much experience and knowledge. Surely you can go meet the Shaman and bring him back to help us?”
Stone Maker nodded his head. “Yes, I know many things. I know where best to fish for the fattest seals. I know when to search for the moving deer and where to ambush the waking bear. But I also announced my upcoming potlatch to be held right before the fresh snow comes. I will give away all my possessions and paddle out to sea.”
“True,” said the Chief, who understood that the older members of his village had to decide when enough was enough and join their family in the afterlife. He turned his head back and forth, eyeing the men as they tried not to make eye contact, ignoring one of them who had faked his own death, and pointed.
“You three are going,” he said, picking three of the middle-aged hunters. “Your kids are old enough to care for your families, you do not have any plans for ending your lives, and I do not plan to stay here all day debating it. The rest of you can go while I talk to these men. And take that idiot,” he added pointing to the fake corpse, “with you!”
When alone with the three men he explained what they would need for their travels, where the Shaman was, what dangers would be ahead of them, and what gifts to take to Wind Talker. It was very important to approach the Shaman with great respect and not to offend the old man.
“And remember,” he added before dismissing them. “Watch out. Spirits can take many forms. They can look like loving family members, they can look like women from your dreams, they can look like animals. Be wary. Trust no one.”
The three men nodded and left the house. As the Chief tossed more wood into the fire he wondered if he should walk about the village and visit some of the outer houses. Not all the men in the village had attended the meeting and some may not be aware of the danger. There were a few families who had not reported anything out of the ordinary but maybe he should visit them anyway.
Chief Seal Tooth nodded to himself, grabbed a robe to fight the increasingly cold weather outside, and left to make some rounds.
First he visited Lame Goose and his house next to the forest. The old man lived alone, collecting wood when he could, sometimes trapping for fur and meat. He knew nothing about the strange goings on and dismissed the Chief’s warning with a loud laugh.
Second he visited a young couple who lived near the shore line. The wife, named Blue Beaver, was very ugly if warm hearted and skilled at weaving. The small but tough husband, who went by the name of Big Bear, knew nothing about any strangeness going on in their lives. They offered the Chief some fish stew, asking him to stay and chat. The Chief thanked them both but turned the meal down. He had his duty to carry out.
The third household he needed to visit belonged to Tadpole Boy. The Chief Seal Tooth found himself walking up the pathway to the boy‘s house. His nerves seemed a tad on edge. Why? Was it the grass and pebbles that covered the pathway, suggesting that few came this way? Was it the dark, rotten front of the house that made it look decayed or frail? He reached for the blanket blocked the doorway, told himself to be brave, and pushed it to one side to enter.
He walked away from the house and blinked. Before him was the cluster of houses that made the village center. Beyond that was the boat covered beach. Behind the boats was the sea, dotted with rock covered islands and net tossing fishermen.
Wait, he was going to visit the house? Wasn’t he? He turned around, to face the house. It looked worn and in poor repair. The Frog on the totem was level with the roof. It was dark and stained from age and weather. On top of the Frog’s wooden head sat a very BIG raven. It seemed to be very interested in him, staring down at him, silent and still. It almost seemed to be frowning.
Chief Seal Tooth frowned back. He took a step towards the house, following the pathway up to the doorway, his body seeming to rebel against his commands. He needed to ask a few questions yet he felt it was unwise to do so. Why?
He snorted. Stupid fears. He reached out, grabbed the blanket, pulled it to one side and entered the house.
He blinked, finding himself facing the village, the house of Tadpole Boy BEHIND him again.
“Something weird here,” he mumbled to himself, his fingers twitching. He felt stupid for not bringing some type of weapon. A small shell knife or even a weak magical charm would have given him some comfort.
He turned and found the raven staring down at him. It had not moved, not a feather, not a muscle.
He glanced up and noticed that the Sun had moved. At least an hour had passed since first coming up the trail to Tadpole Boy’s home. He blinked and found himself moving to the village, retreating from the mystery, a mystery that scared him.
He was a brave man and a smart man. He was a man who understood the value of trade, who understood tribal politics, and could read the sky for signs of weather changes.
Chief Seal Tooth, on the other hand, knew nothing about magic or spirits. Yet he did know when to withdraw from a danger he could not handle.
When the men came back with the Shaman the Chief knew which house would be investigated first. This was a job for Wind Talker not a job for a normal man.
“Something improper is going on,” he murmured to himself as he headed back to his own house. Life among the people of the harsh north had many rituals and traditions. Some came from long ago and some were brand new but all were needed to keep peace and order. A proper life was the only life for proper people. Otherwise there was chaos, confusion, and, sometimes, death.
The men selected for the journey to get Wind Talker were not very happy with being chosen.
The first was Raccoon, called so because when he was born he had a habit of stealing food from his baby brothers, and it reminded people of the animal who would sometimes steal from their houses. He was cunning and had swift hands. He was a wonderful hunter and always brought back game to eat.
The second was called Tusk, called so because when he was born he had huge teeth. He was known for using them as a third hand, holding leather or string with his teeth, when working on a tool or item. He was born to work with wood, bone, and skins. His weapons and tools always seemed to last longer, stay sharper, work harder than those made by others.
The third was called Belly, called so because since birth he had never stopped eating. He loved snacking on berries in lard, he would have midnight meals of seal jerky, he loved to paddle while chewing on dried fish, and he REALLY loved eating clams by the hand full. Yet he was always willing to share his meals with those in need and this brought him great praise from the elders.
They took a boat together, making sure to take all that they needed. Raccoon made sure to take his best spears, knives, and fishing hooks. Tusk made sure to take his best tool kit, lots of string, and extra glue made from fish skin. Belly stuffed his bag with lots of berries, dried jerky, and herbs.
The weather was just right for travel. The sky was clear and the waters calm.
“The Wind Talker lives on an island all alone,” said Raccoon as he paddled, glancing around searching for any sign of people or animals. “An island covered in dark, thick woods. I wonder if he will welcome our visit and our gifts?”
“He must be lonely being all alone,” said Tusk as he paddled, his big teeth bright in the sun. “No women to make his food or keep his house in order. I wonder if he will need something repaired or mended?”
Belly just mumbled something as he paddled, his mouth full of dried deer meat.
Raccoon and Tusk glanced at Belly, wondering how long the food would hold out. Even with the extra supplies Belly had brought they seemed to be going through the food very fast. And they only left the beach half a day ago!