The Birchbark House: The Girl from Spirit Island–Chapter 2

Her tiny dress of good blue wool was embroidered with white beads and ribbons, and her new makazins were carefully sewn.

She grew into a nimble young girl of seven winters, a thoughtful girl with shining brown eyes and a wide grin, only missing her two top front teeth.

Just like her namesake, Omakayas now stared long at the silky patch of bog before she gathered herself and jumped.

One hummock. Safety. Omakayas sprang wide again.

Thick swales of swamp grass rippled.

Now the dappled light of tiny new leaves moved on Grandma’s beautiful, softly lined face.

Omakayas was skinny, wiry, and tough for seven winters.

Omakayas helped her, threading the tough basswood strands through holes punched by Grandma’s awl.

Finally, as the light faded, they fastened the mats of bark onto the willow frame, a half skeleton of pliable saplings.

Yellow Kettle, her mother, was quick-tempered but always laughing, and her eyes shrewdly took in the world.

Her smile was generous, enigmatic, slightly crooked, and kind.

Her stitches never faltered.

The fresh wind across the big lake blew away the smoke of cooking fires and vanquished the mosquitoes that came out in whining droves and had plagued them in town.

It was good to sleep where the village dogs didn’t bark all night and where the only sound to disturb their dreams was the pine trees sifting wind in a lulling roar.

The moon went down to a fingernail’s sliver and the corn popped from the ground.

The air was fresh, delicious, smelling of new leaves in the woods, just-popped-out mushrooms, the pelts of young deer.

There was a firm pressure suddenly at the small of her back, still caught on the inside. Her sister’s foot. Her sister’s gloating voice.

She had never had any children, and each of her three husbands had slunk off in turn during the night, never to be seen again.

She was a rangy woman over six feet in height.

They would sometimes wake to find a haunch of venison just inside the door, or bear meat, a fish or two.

They would sometimes wake to find a haunch of venison just inside the door, or bear meat, a fish or two.

Omakayas approached Tallow’s cabin warily because of the dogs.

The dog bristled at her, baring its teeth in an ugly snarl, but let her pass by.

She tamped the bowl of the pipe with huge hands; her arms were long and sinewy.

She tamped the bowl of the pipe with huge hands; her arms were long and sinewy.

You can be sure, Omakayas thought, her face taking on a faraway, haughty expression, she would be slow in answering!

She grinned, thinking that she’d allow her sister to return with her to plunder them, but only if Angeline changed her ways.

Two bear cubs burst from the bush and rushed pell-mell, tumbling head over heels straight for her.

If the bear began to bite and claw, she would have to plunge the tip of the scissors straight in between the bear’s strong ribs, use all of her strength, sink the blade all the way in to the rounded hilt and then jump clear, if she could, while the bear went through its death agony.

Even though it was clear her life was to be spared, she felt the loss of her new brothers.