Though I thought and thought, I could see no way to keep going. It might be that I could push myself a little farther, but I could not push Georgi. Either we would lie down in the woods and die or we would have to go on to the next village and give ourselves up. If we were lucky, we would be sent to an orphanage. If we were unlucky, we would end up in a prison camp.
“Georgi, if I let you rest here all day, will you walk to the next village? It’s only two or three days away, and I promise we’ll spend a whole ruble on food.” I did not tell him about the orphanage or the prison camp.
He gave me a suspicious look. “Tell me what food you’ll buy, Marya.”
“Bread, cheese, raisins, milk, and cake.”
“Cake? You promise to buy cake?”
I nodded. If we were going to prison, why shouldn’t we have cake first? They would certainly take away any money we had.
“All right,” Georgi said.
“But Georgi, we have to eat something until we can get to the village, so you must fish.”
I tied the line with its hook onto a branch while Georgi turned over a decaying log and pulled out a large bug with more legs than anything should need.
While Georgi fished, I stuffed my shoes with handfuls of grass. As I was putting them on, I heard a crashing noise, followed by shouts. Two men rushed out of the woods and grabbed Georgi. Before I could reach Georgi, a dozen more men, all Samoyeds like the first two, some perched high on the shoulders of reindeer, came thundering through the woods.
I grabbed Georgi and began a tug-of-war with the Samoyeds. “Let him go!” I shouted. Georgi’s eyes were very wide. He was too startled to say a word.
While the men hung on to Georgi, gesturing and shouting angrily in a language I could not understand, a Samoyed jumped off of his reindeer and spoke to me in Russian.
“The boy is fishing in the shaman’s own fishing place. It is a holy place, and no one but the shaman can fish there.” The other Samoyeds looked very angry, but the one who spoke to us only looked worried.
Still hanging on to Georgi, I pleaded with him. “Make them let go of my brother. We didn’t know the place belonged to your whatever-you-call-him. We’ll go and fish someplace else.”
Georgi was crying. “I don’t even like fish,” he sobbed. “He can have them all.”
The man said Samoyed words to the others, and they let go of Georgi, but still they appeared very angry. More Samoyeds climbed down from their reindeer and gathered around us, shouting and gesturing. They argued with the man who spoke Russian.
“What are they saying?” I asked.
“I have told them to let you go on your way, but they say the shaman must decide if you are to be punished.”
One man grabbed me, and another picked up Georgi and our knapsacks. Georgi and I struggled to get away, but the men only laughed at our efforts. In seconds we were lifted onto the backs of reindeer. A man sprang up behind each of us, and we went galloping through the woods.
I was well up on the shoulders of the reindeer. A bridle was threaded around the animal’s antlers, but there was no saddle. I was sure I was going to fall off the galloping beast. I half hoped I would. If I wasn’t killed first, I might escape. But what if Georgi did not fall off at the same time? I would never see him again. With one hand I grasped the reindeer’s shoulder; with the other I clung to the Samoyed.
We tore though the woods, bumping along and dodging trees while all the while the Samoyeds shouted to one another. Just when I thought all my insides had been jumbled together, I saw a meadow in the distance covered with tents and, beyond the tents, hundreds of reindeer herded together. Samoyed men, women, and children hurried to meet us.
The presence of the children, some of them Georgi’s and my ages, made the Samoyeds less threatening. Their clothes were fashioned from hide and trimmed with rows of brightly colored embroidery. The women wore scarfs that covered their long black braids. Standing to one side, a little apart from the rest of the tribe, was a very old man dressed in a long robe of hide painted with a picture of an eagle. The robe was decorated with strips and braids of hide, fringes, tassels, and little bells. On the man’s head was a peaked hat with long fringes that hung down over his shoulders.
With much chattering, not a word of which we could make out, Georgi and I were pulled and pushed toward the old man. I was sure he was the man who would decide if we were to be punished. I didn’t know how Samoyeds punished people, but I was sure I would not like it.
As Georgi and I stood before him holding hands, the man walked around us, poking us with his finger, exclaiming as if we were haunches of meat he was considering buying. At last he called out, “Edeiko,” and the man who spoke Russian ran over to us. Edeiko, for that must have been his name, spoke rapidly, pointing to us from time to time.
At last he turned to us. He was frowning. “The shaman is very angry with you for fishing in his holy place. Because you are only children, he will let you go, but you must give him a gift to make up for what you have taken from him.”
“All we have is this,” I said. I put my hand in my pocket and slowly brought out my last ruble. We might have to starve, but at least we would be free.
Edeiko shook his head sadly. “Money would insult the shaman. What do you have in there?” He pointed to our knapsacks.
My heart sank. “Nothing,” I answered truthfully. “Only worn-out clothes and our blankets.” Having seen the splendidly decorated clothes worn by the Samoyeds, I was sure our rags would be even more insulting to the shaman than a ruble.
The shaman was already exploring the knapsacks, tossing our things out onto the ground, making noises that sounded like disgust. When he came to Georgi’s globe, he paused. He carefully took up the globe, turning it this way and that so that the snow fell onto the little cottage. He waited until the snow settled and then shook it again, uttering cries of delight. By now half the village had crowded around the shaman, and all were exclaiming over the globe.
“What are they saying?” I asked Edeiko.
“They say it is very great magic,” Edeiko said.
Hardly daring to breathe, I said, “Tell the shaman if he will give us some food and let us go, he can have the globe.” We would have our freedom and the ruble as well.
Georgi snatched his hand from mine. “That globe is mine, Marya. You have no right to give it away.” Before I could stop him, he ran toward the shaman and grabbed the globe. “It’s mine! You can’t have it!”
Everyone was silent. There were looks of horror on their faces at Georgi’s behavior toward the shaman.
Desperately I turned to Edeiko. “Tell them he is only a little boy and doesn’t know what he’s doing.” But Georgi’s fiery behavior must have convinced the shaman that the globe was even more precious than he thought. The shaman spoke to Edeiko.
Edeiko turned to me and said, “The shaman will give you two reindeer for the globe.”
We might eat one of the reindeer and harness the other one, riding it to Dudinka, but I could not imagine myself butchering a huge beast whose meat would spoil in a day or two. And how were we to climb up on the back of a strange reindeer and make it go where we wanted?
“Georgi,” I pleaded, “you have to let them have the globe or they’ll never let us go. I have a ruble. I can buy you another one.”
“I don’t want another one. I want this one. Anyhow, I don’t believe you. You said we were going to find Mama, and where is she?” He hugged the globe to his chest. “They can’t have it.”
Though he could not understand Georgi’s words, the shaman must have known what he meant, for he spoke angrily to Edeiko.
Edeiko gave us a regretful look. “The shaman will not steal the globe, for stealing is forbidden, but you and your brother must travel with us, and your brother must allow the shaman to have the little cottage in his hands from time to time.”
I was furious with Georgi and wondered if I might convince the shaman that the globe was really mine and that I would
gladly give it to him, but seeing the way Georgi was clutching the globe to his chest, I knew I would not be believed. Even if I were, Georgi would never allow me to give the globe away.
In a hopeless voice I said, “Where is the tribe traveling to?” I saw us wandering forever in Siberia’s endless emptiness, each day taking us farther from Mama.
“We are gathering our herds of reindeer. In the winter we travel south with them. As the weather warms, we herd them north to the mouth of the river and the tundra, where they graze on the mosses and the lichen, fattening up for the winter to come.”
All I heard was the mouth of the river.
Holding my breath, I asked, “Do you go by the town of Dudinka?”
“We don’t go near cities, but we will be one or two days’ journey from there.”
Trying to hide my excitement, I asked, “How long will the journey take?”
“Three or four weeks.”
“Can you travel so fast?”
“The reindeer carry us.”
I could not believe how lucky we were. In a little over three weeks, traveling with the Samoyeds and fed by them, we would be with Mama. I tried not to show my happiness and my relief. I wanted them to think we were doing them a favor by accompanying them instead of the other way around.
“Please tell the shaman we will go with you and he may have the globe in his hands whenever he pleases.”
Georgi began to protest.
“Listen to me, Georgi,” I said. “No one is going to take the globe from you. The shaman only wants to play with it a bit. Mama always taught you to share your toys.” I bent over and whispered into his ear, “Georgi, they will take us to Mama in Dudinka, and we’ll get there on the backs of the reindeer—no more walking.”
Georgi considered all that I had said. I could have shaken him, for I could see he was getting great pleasure from being the center of attention. He meant to enjoy the attention as long as he could. “Georgi.” I gave him a little push. At last he nodded. Reluctantly he handed the globe to the shaman.
I believe Edeiko was our friend, for he looked relieved. Quickly he said a few words to the shaman. The shaman nodded his head and gestured toward the Samoyed women. Immediately the women crowded around us, exclaiming over our shoes. Before we could stop them, they toppled us and pulled off our shoes, throwing them away with disgust. One of the women disappeared into a tent. When she came out, she was carrying two pairs of boots like those the Samoyeds wore. Georgi was given a pair to put on. With much shaking of their heads and many scolding noises, they handed me a much taller pair. I had not realized how much I had grown, and the Samoyed women gave me the impression that they considered it unseemly in a woman to show so much of her legs.
The boots were made of the softest reindeer hide, with the fur scraped off. They were covered with embroidery done with brightly colored threads. Edeiko proudly explained that the soles of the boots were made from skins taken from beneath the hooves of the reindeer, so they would wear well. While I squirmed at the thought of the poor reindeer, the boots felt so light, I might have been walking on air.
“They are boots our own children have outgrown,” Edeiko said. “But much labor has gone into them, so they are never discarded but kept for the next child who needs them.”
I was as pleased with the gift as Georgi, who was tramping about in his boots, causing much giggling.
After a bit the women went off to prepare dinner. We were left on our own, but we were never out of sight of the shaman. The shaman could not guess the favor he was doing us, and all because Georgi had refused to give up his little cottage in the snow. I reached for Georgi and gave him a hug. He was so startled, his mouth dropped open.
“Why are you crushing me like that, Marya?”
“We mustn’t let them know, Georgi, but they’ll take us nearly to Mama. Then we can give them the globe.” There was a stubborn look on his face. “Georgi, when we’re that close to Mama, you’ll have to give it up. Otherwise they’ll make us go to the Arctic Sea.”
“I don’t care,” Georgi said. “We learned in school there are polar bears in the Arctic Sea. I want to see the polar bears.”
“Georgi, what about Mama?”
There were tears in his eyes. “I don’t believe Mama is where you said. I don’t think we’ll ever see her again.” With that he ran off. I was surprised to see him head for the shaman. Together they played with the little cottage, the old man as happy as Georgi with the toy.
The delicious smells of roasting meat coming from a fire pit made me realize how hungry I was. I wandered over to the pit, where a very large part of a reindeer was being turned on a spit. I had never seen so much meat in all of my life. It was all I could do to keep from tearing off a bit of the tasty flesh.
While two women tended the spit, the rest of the women along with three young girls, one my age, set out baskets filled with strange-looking things.
When the women called to the men, the men came with their knives and cut great hunks of meat, which they presented to the shaman, who said some words over the meat and then signaled the men to distribute it.
There were no forks, but Georgi and I hadn’t had forks in weeks. We tore into our portion, chewing the delicious meat until the juices ran down our chins. Baskets were passed about, and the women urged us to eat. In one basket there were little nuts. “Pine nuts,” Edeiko explained. Another basket held dried fruit. “Cranberries,” he said, “and cloudberries.” We helped ourselves from the third basket to something that tasted crisp and crackly as we chewed it. Edeiko said, “Mouse nests.”
I gave a little screech. Edeiko smiled. “The women dig them and dry them in the sun. The mice make their nests from the roots of a lily, which is much admired for its tastiness.”
When dinner was over, the shaman called Georgi to him. The globe was produced, shaken several times, and then given reluctantly back to Georgi.
“The shaman is going to tell you a story,” Edeiko said to Georgi, “and I will translate it for you.” Edeiko’s voice was very solemn, so we knew that we were honored. All the men and women drew close to the shaman. They looked like little children eager for a bedtime story.
The shaman’s voice, which was usually shrill and bossy, became soft and dramatic, as if he were seeing the story unfold before his eyes as he told it.
“Once there was a bear,” he said. “The bear was very old and very wise. It was the month when the salmon return to the river. The wise old bear put one of his huge paws into the river to catch a slippery salmon. There were other bears fishing the river, but they respected the old bear and would not move into his territory.
“Among these younger bears was a foolish bear. Though the river was full of salmon for the taking, the younger bear moved into the old bear’s territory. He was quicker than the old bear. As the old bear reached for a fish, the younger one would snatch it away. The old bear growled and showed his teeth, but still the young bear snatched the salmon from under the old bear’s nose. He believed the old bear was too old and too weak to fight him. As he challenged the old bear, he looked at the other bears to be sure they saw how clever he was and what a fool he was making of the old bear.
“The other bears drew closer. The young and foolish bear thought, They are coming closer the better to see how clever I am.
“All at once the other bears attacked the foolish bear, nipping at his ears and swiping at him with their powerful paws. Their claws scratched, and their teeth hurt him. For a moment the foolish bear was too startled to move; then he lumbered hastily away. Later, whining and complaining, he asked of the other bears, ‘Why did you attack me? I was doing nothing to harm you.’
“One of the younger bears replied, ‘When you make our leader appear weak, we are all in danger.’”
Georgi looked a little puzzled, but there were murmurs of approval from the men and women who had gathered to hear the story.
Suddenly Georgi said, “I have a bear story as well.” Edeiko frowned at
such boldness, but he translated Georgi’s words. The shaman looked surprised but indicated that Georgi should tell his story.
Georgi described the mother bear and her two cubs and how we had escaped by giving them our fish.
The shaman laughed with delight, clapping Georgi on the back, nearly tipping him over. He said some words to Edeiko. Edeiko said, “The shaman wishes the boy to sleep in his tent with him and his wife and children.”
I thought Georgi would refuse, not wanting to leave me, but he went happily along with the shaman, only giving me a look that said, “See, I am more important than you are.”
A girl my age took me by the hand. “That is Tadibe,” Edeiko said. “You will stay with her.” Tadibe had a round face with pink cheeks and bright black eyes. Her raven hair hung in two long braids. She was smiling but could not stop staring at me, as if she had been given a curious animal to watch over.
Tadibe led me into one of the tents and gave me a reindeer skin to sleep on. The skin was soft and much more comfortable than the ground and the thin blanket that had been our bed for weeks. Curled up in the tent were Tadibe’s parents and her brothers and sisters. As tired as I was, I found it impossible to fall asleep, for Tadibe sat cross-legged, staring at me. Even after the staring stopped and she fell asleep, all the turning and breathing and snuffling that went on around me kept me awake. Though I was sure he was safe with the shaman, I missed Georgi, for I had never before slept with him out of my sight.
A heavy rain began to fall. The drops pelted the tent, making a dancing sound. If we had not been found by the Samoyeds, Georgi and I would be lying wet and hungry in the woods, or worse, separated forever in some orphanage. Here we were sheltered, our stomachs full, even if part of the fullness was the nests of mice. Best of all, we would soon be traveling toward Mama.
The journey north began in the morning. While the men gathered the reindeer herd, the women took down the tents, stacking the tent poles and the rolls of hide that had covered them.
Georgi stayed close to the shaman, whose only task seemed to be to urge everyone to move more quickly. I watched what Tadibe did and tried to do the same, but I stumbled under the weight of the tent poles, which were awkward and too heavy for me. I was a little better at rolling up the hides. When the journey begin, the shaman spent much time deciding which path would be auspicious.