Allan and the Ice Gods (35 page)

whenever they sank a little, snow fell till it was piled up in great

drifts out of which in places only the tops of the firs appeared,

drifts that almost swallowed up the huts, so that men must throw aside

the snow from day to day to come to each other. The sea, too, was more

frozen than ever it had been before, and through the pack ice moved

great bergs like mountains, crashing their road southward, on which

bergs might be seen numbers of terrible white bears that scrambled

from them to the shore, seeking what they might devour. For if any of

the seals on which they lived were left, these were hidden beneath the

ice where the bears could not come at them.

From month to month, the people lived upon such food as Wi in his

wisdom had stored up for them, though now and again, led by him and

Moananga, they must go out against the bears that, made mad by hunger,

even strove to tear a way through the sides and roofs of the huts. In

these fights a number of them perished, being mauled by the bears, or

dying of the cold while they waited for them. Also, many of the old

people and young children died of this same cold, especially in those

huts where, notwithstanding Wi’s orders, enough wood and dried seaweed

had not been stored. For now no seaweed could be got, and because of

the snowdrifts and the blizzards, it was impossible to go to the

forest and thence to bring more wood.

During all this time of suffering and of terror, Wi went to and fro

with a smiling face, doing the best he could to help even the

humblest, sheltering them in the cave, sharing the chief’s food with

them, and even the fuel of which he had gathered so great a store.

Laleela, too, cherished the outcast babes and wept as one by one they

died of the bitter frosts that poured into the open mouth of the cave

and struck them through their wrappings.

At last the black winter months passed away, giving place to those of

spring. Yet no spring came. The snow, it is true, ceased to fall, and

the pack ice off the shore grew thinner, also the rivers began to run

turbidly, filled with brine rather than water, and the trees of the

woods appeared again out of their white beds, blackened and dead, for

the most part. But there was no green where there should have been

grass, no spring flowers bloomed, the fir buds did not burst, no seals

or birds appeared, while the cold remained like to that of a winter

when Wi was a lad.

Great murmuring went up from the tribe. Tales had gone from mouth to

mouth.

“The curse has come upon us,” said these tales; “a curse brought by

the fair Witch-of-the-Sea.”

Moreover, there spread a rumour that Wi, their chief, had deserted the

Ice-gods whom all had worshipped since the days of Urk’s grandfather’s

great-grandfather, and perhaps even earlier; that now he bent to the

knee to some other god, that of the Witch-of-the-Sea. As Aaka would

say nothing—although perchance already she had said too much—and as

they dared not ask the truth of Wi, he who had slain Henga and the

great toothed tiger and the bull of bulls and was therefore more than

a man, chosen ones from among the people waylaid Pag, who was Wi’s

chief counsellor, and questioned him. He listened grimly, wrapped up

in his skin rugs, and watching them with his one eye, then answered:

“I know nothing of this matter of gods, I who put no faith in any

gods. All I know is that the weather has changed for the worse; also

that, as for the oath which Wi swore, he has kept it well, seeing that

although a very fair one lay to his hand, he has taken no other wife—

which he might have done—for she whom he has does not treat him

kindly. For the rest, if you are not content to die quietly, as it

seems that we must do, and would find out what is the will of the

gods, go and ask it of those who dwell in the ice yonder. Aye, let all

those who complain gather themselves together, and let Wi and those

who cling to him, of whom I am one, gather themselves together also.

Then let us go up and stand before the Ice-gods in whom you put faith

and make sacrifice to them, if there be anything left to offer, and

ask them for an oracle.”

Thus spoke Pag in his bitterness and mockery, never guessing that

those poor tortured and bewildered folk would pay heed to his words.

Yet this they did, for these seemed to them a tree to cling to as they

were swept away by the flood of misery. Surely the gods to whom their

fathers had bent the knee from the beginning must exist; surely they

would listen if the people appeared before them and offered them

sacrifice, and would cause the ice to melt and the spring to come.

The people took counsel together, and at last sent some of their

number to the mouth of the cave to speak with Wi, N’gae, he who made

charms, the Priest of the Ice-gods, and Pitokiti and Hou and Whaka,

among them. So they went up to the cave, having chosen Hotoa the Slow-speeched, and Urk the Ancient as their spokesmen, and at the mouth of

the cave Wini-wini the Shudderer blew three blasts upon his horn

according to the old custom when the people desired to talk with the

chief.

Wi came forth wearing his robe that was made of the hide of the long-toothed tiger which he had killed, and saw the spokesmen standing

before him, shame-faced and with downcast eyes, while behind them

gathered upon the meeting place where he had fought Henga, the mass of

the people, or those who were left of them, were huddled together

miserably.

“What would you with me?” he asked.

“Chief,” mumbled Urk, “we are sent to say that the people can no

longer bear the curse which has fallen upon them. We hear that the

Witch-from-the-Sea, who brought the curse, has changed your heart, so

that you have ceased to worship the ancient gods who dwell in the ice,

and have set up some other god in your heart, wherefore the Ice-dwellers are angry. We ask you if this be true.”

“It is true,” answered Wi steadfastly. “No longer do I worship the

Ice-gods, because there are no such gods. Those that dwell in the ice

are but a great beast and a man, both of whom have been dead from the

beginning.”

Now the messengers looked at each other and shivered, for to them

these words were horrible, while N’gae the priest waved his hands and

muttered prayers or spells. Then Urk went on:

“We feared that this was so. Hearken, Chief. It has been handed down

to me from my forefathers that once, when the people were starving

because of bad seasons, the chief offered up his son as a sacrifice to

the Ice-gods. Yes, he killed his son before them; whereon the gods

were appeased, the seasons changed, the seals and the fish returned in

plenty, and all was well.”

“Do you demand that I should sacrifice my son?” asked Wi.

“Chief, N’gae the priest of the Ice-gods like his father before him,

the weaver of spells, and Taren his wife, the seeress, have made

divination and wisdom has come upon them. Yes, a Voice has spoken to

them from the roof of their hut in the dead of night.”

“And what said the Voice?” asked Wi, leaning on his ax and looking at

N’gae. “Tell me, you to whom it spoke.”

Then the lank, evil-faced N’gae piped an answer in his thin voice.

“Chief, the voice said that the Ice-gods must have their sacrifice and

that this sacrifice must walk upon two legs.”

“Did it name the sacrifice, N’gae?”

“Nay. Yet it said that it must be chosen by the chief from the chief’s

household, and thereafter be offered with his own hand, yonder in the

holy place before the face of the gods.”

“Name my household,” said Wi.

“Chief, there are but three of them. Aaka your wife, Foh your son, and

the Witch-from-the-Sea who is your second wife.”

“I have no second wife,” answered Wi. “In that matter, as in all

others, I have kept the oath which I made to the people.”

“We hold that she is your second wife; also that she has brought the

curse upon us, as she brought the Red Wanderers,” replied N’gae

stubbornly, while the others nodded their heads in assent. “We

demand,” he went on, “that you choose one of these three to be offered

to the Ice-dwellers at sunset on the night of full moon, which is the

appointed hour of sacrifice when the sun and the moon look at each

other across the sky.”

“And if I refuse?” said Wi quietly.

Now N’gae looked at Urk, and Urk answered:

“If you refuse, Chief, this is the decree of the people—this is their

message to you: They will kill all these three, Aaka your wife, Foh

your son, and the Witch-from-the-Sea, your second wife, so that they

may be sure that the one dies who should have been chosen. This they

will do, however, whenever and wherever they can catch them, by day or

by night, waking or sleeping, walking or eating, and having slain

them, they will take their bodies and lay them as an offering on the

threshold of the Dwellers in the Ice.”

“Why not kill me?” asked Wi.

“Chief—because you are the Chief, who may only be slain by one who is

stronger than he, as you slew Henga, and who is there that is stronger

than you are or who dare stand before you?”

“So, like wolves, you would kill the weak and let the mighty be,” said

Wi with scorn. “Well, Messengers, well, Voices of the People, go back

to them and say that Wi the Chief will take counsel with himself as to

this matter which you have brought before him. To-morrow, at this same

hour of midday, return to me and I shall speak my heart to you and to

the people, so that to-morrow night, at the setting of the sun, the

sacrifice, if sacrifice there must be, may be accomplished, when the

sun and the full moon look at each other across the skies.”

Then they went, shrinking before his eyes, which seemed to burn them

like fire.

Now of this talk Wi said nothing to any—no, not even to Aaka or Pag

or Laleela, though perchance they all knew it, for when they met him

they looked upon him strangely, as did even Foh his son, or so it

seemed to him. That afternoon, going to the mouth of the cave, he saw

that a large fire had been lit down among the huts and that round it

many were gathered as though at a feast.

“Perhaps they have found a dead seal and cook it,” said Wi to himself.

As he stood there wondering, Pag and Moananga came up, and he noted

that Moananga was bruised as though he had been fighting.

“What passes yonder?” asked Wi.

“This, Brother,” answered Moananga, and there was horror in his voice.

“Those of the people who have eaten all their store and to whom by

your orders no more may be given till after the night of the full

moon, and who are therefore starving, have slaughtered two girl

children and cook and devour them. I tried to stay them but they

felled me with clubs, for they are fierce as wolves and more savage.”

“Is it so?” said Wi in a low voice, for his heart was sick in him.

“Shall we gather men and fall on them and kill them?” asked Moananga.

“Of what use to shed more blood?” answered Wi. “They are starving

brutes, and such will fill themselves. Hearken. I go out to think. Let

none follow me, for I would be alone. Fear not, I shall return. Yet,

keep watch over the other children, for there are many famished

yonder.”

So Wi went along the base of the hills that this spring were covered

with thick ice, such as had never been seen upon them before. This

ice, indeed, had crept down from the glaciers above almost to the

seashore, and he noted that where it ended its thickness was that of

the height of three spears tied one to another, and wondered what it

might be in the clefts farther up the slope of the hills. Wi came to

the valley that was called the Home of the Ice-gods and went up to it.

Lo! the great glacier had moved forward, for the last wand that he had

set to measure its advance was covered and the rocks that the ice had

pushed in front of it were piled into a heap or ridge that separated

the valley into two parts, a larger part to the left as he faced the

glacier in front of the Sleeper and a smaller part to the right where

the ice was not so steep. Wi looked at the Sleeper and the man. It

seemed to him that they were nearer than ever they had been before,

for he could see them both more clearly, although they were also

higher up in the ice.

“These gods travel,” he said to himself. Then he crossed the ridge of

piled-up stones and sat himself down upon a rock to think, as more

than once he had done before. Then he had come thither because the

place was holy to him. Now it was no longer holy, but he sought it

because he knew that he would be alone, for none dared enter it at

nightfall. Wi watched the edge of the sun sinking toward the west and

the edge of the moon rising in the east, and began to pray.

“O That which Laleela worships and has taught me to worship, hear me,”

he prayed. “Behold! I am helpless. Those poor, starving folk seek to

kill the ones I love and say to me, ‘Choose the victim,’ and if I

choose not they will kill them. They say that the Ice-gods demand a