Band of Acadians by John Skelton Page A

We would starve if we permitted that. We also can’t allow you to trap our valuable fur animals like beavers, foxes, and minks. We use those for clothing and in trade with the white man for knives and other metal items.”
    â€œI was afraid of that,” Grandpa said to Hector. “We’re in trouble. He might kick us out.”
    Then the chief unexpectedly changed his tone. “But we’re a generous people. You can trap small animals like rabbits and porcupines and shoot partridges, and you can catch all the fish you need. Respect our rules, and you can stay on our land this winter. You can also cut all the timber you need, and we’ll help you hunt those animals that aren’t part of our own needs.”
    The harsh reality of surviving in the bush was evident in the Mi’kmaq population: there were few elders. It seemed there was no one over forty years old. Survival, apparently, meant being able to provide for your own needs.
    Having won the chief’s reluctant approval, the little clan of refugees began the task of building winter quarters. Grandpa and Frank scoped out suitable construction materials, while Hector prepared foundations for ten huts. When Frank discovered that the banks of the nearby stream were made of oozy, muddy clay, he thought that might be used as caulking between spruce branches.
    â€œYes,” Grandpa told him, “a structure like that should make good walls.”
    The floors wouldn’t be a problem — just a flat dirt base covered with spruce boughs would be quite adequate. But building a suitable roof would prove to be far more complicated.
    Grandpa’s expertise in this area came in handy. “First,” he said, “we need to cut four trees and place them as posts on the corners of each hut.” He continued at some length to describe how to assemble pieces made of spruce boughs, branches, and mud as roof material. It was obvious that building things was one of Grandpa’s great passions. “When those are dry, we’ll raise them into position on the triangle frame by a crane mechanism we’ll have to construct. A roof like that will be leak-proof as long as no one steps on it.”
    Hector nodded. “Sounds good.”
    â€œI like that, too, but how will we heat our huts?” Nola asked. “The Mi’kmaq build campfires in the middle of their teepees and let the smoke drift out at the top. But that makes the inside smoky.”
    â€œYes, our Native friends do have a smoky smell about them,” Jocelyne said. “I guess we, too, can smell pretty strong sometimes. Not so smoky, though.”
    â€œActually,” Grandpa said, “the Mi’kmaq have a good reason to like the smoke. It helps keep the mosquitoes away. Also, if they want to, they know how to build a double-walled teepee that drives the smoke upward.”
    â€œMaybe so,” Frank said, “but if we build a chimney, that would provide more heat per fire log plus reduce the smoke. It would also mean fewer logs to cut. And we have the clay right here from our stream.”
    At the end of much discussion there was unanimous agreement: the less smoky, fewer fire logs design was the way they would go.
    Everyone was so focused on building that when the huts were finished they were all taken aback, particularly after the many problems they had had assembling their rafts. Little Adele neatly summed up everyone’s mood. “It’s going to be so nice to sleep indoors. The nights are getting much too cold for sleeping outside.”
    A few days after this crucial goal was achieved, Toomy and his dog came by to visit. Nola asked Toomy the dog’s name. She couldn’t pronounce the vowels Toomy voiced. To her it sounded something like “Zena.” So she called out, “Zena, over here, I have a snack for you.” To her delight the dog approached, tail wagging, and took the piece of fish Nola offered. After eating it,