CAN West 04 - When Hope Springs New by Janette Oke

food would be our first matter of business. When we had been without supplies at Beaver River, Wynn had organized the total village into responsible groups. I would do that now. A hunting party, a fishing party, an herb-gathering party; each member of the village who was old enough to carry a responsibility would be assigned a detail.
    LaMeche was at the fire. I was glad to see him, for I was going to need his help.
    He had made coffee again and I thanked him as I accepted the cup. My stomach cried for something to go with it.
    I set my cup down and dug through the bundle of my belongings, coming up with the pencil and a sheet of paper.
    “We need to do things,” I stated, and LaMeche nodded his head.
    “Do we have any food?”
    LaMeche nodded at the one wagon. It was heaped high with miscellaneous items that he had hurriedly pulled from his store.
    “What is there?” I asked him.
    “Flour, salt, sugar, coffee, tea, cornmeal, baking powder. Most needed things, I think. Not sure. Like you, I just grab quick.”
    I was thankful that we had at least “grabbed quick.” We could have been left with nothing at all.
    “We must take it all out of wagon and see it,” I said.
    “Now?” he questioned.
    It seemed like the proper time. At least the people would realize there was some action.
    “Yes,” I said. “Now. Find boys and put them to work. They can put it all in piles on ground.”
    We found boys who were more than willing to do our bidding, and I turned back to my list.
    “Do we have guns or bullets?” I asked.
    “I think I grab bullets. Gun—maybe not.”
    “Knives to hunt, knives to cook?”
    “I check,” he agreed.
    “Fishhooks or nets to catch fish?”
    He nodded his head. It did not mean that he had the items; it just meant that he would see if he could find them.
    “We now divide people into groups,” I said, “with one person to lead each group. They make fire and shelter. We send someone to hunt and someone to fish. Women go to woods for herbs and roots. Children and older ones carry wood.”
    LaMeche looked at me, his eyes getting larger with each instruction, his head nodding agreement to everything I said. When I stopped talking he reached for the paper where I had been hurriedly scribbling down our plan. “I will do,” he said and took the sheet from me. Then he saw it was written in English and handed it back to me.
    “I will help,” I assured him.
    “You count food supplies,” he countered.
    That sounded like a good idea. I headed back to my fire and my heaped-up blanket pack and rummaged for another piece of paper. Then I went to the wagon where the boys were unloading and sorting.
    LaMeche had been right. We had a good supply of tea, coffee, and cornmeal, a fair supply of flour, salt, sugar, and baking powder. There were several tins of canned food, some crackers, and a few spices.
    There were also matches, shells, a few hunting knives, three fishhooks, a length of fishing line, four axes, and some tins of something.
    I reached for one of the tins. It was not labeled and the lid did not want to come off, so I gave up. I told the boys they had done good work and then went on to find LaMeche.
    He had rounded up several of the younger children to help him tell the people what he wanted. All along the shore, various ones were laying out for inspection the belongings they had managed to rescue from the fire.
    LaMeche and I walked down the line, taking stock.
    I was relieved to see a number of pots. There were more knives and fishing supplies, and some had even carried their grinding stones with them to the lake. Many of the women had managed to save containers and baskets with food items. It would not last for long, but it would help with a few meals. There were a number of blankets and skins. Though not enough to go around, still they would help to at least protect the children and the older folk from the chilly night air.
    We took our census, assigned our areas for family fires, and