The Emerald Key - By Christopher Dinsdale Page 0,32

the location of Tutuyak’s village in relation to the rest of Canada East, the part of Canada that contained the cities of Quebec and Montreal. All of his maps had gone down with the coffin to the bottom of the St. Lawrence River. He fought the panic of being lost in an endless foreign land and trusted that both God and his newfound friend would help him find direction once again.

Finally, the sun lit up the early morning mist. Jamie jumped when he suddenly heard a loud snort come from just outside the doorway. Could it be a bear or moose prowling outside the longhouse? He had yet to see such creatures first-hand, but did not doubt the tales of their dangerous nature. He grabbed a long wooden pole from the floor and warily approached the doorframe. As he peeked outside, a large, flaring nostril sprayed him with a cloud of steam. Jamie jumped in surprise and banged his head on the frame of the door.

Tutuyak laughed. “Be careful. Your hard head might break our longhouse.”

Jamie rubbed his head and smiled back at Tutuyak, mounted high up on a horse. “I think my head is going to break long before your longhouse.”

Tutuyak was straddling a beautiful brown and white stallion. Its dark chestnut eyes stared at Jamie suspiciously. He stomped his hoof, and Tutuyak pulled back on the reins.

“Steady, Dreamer,” she cooed. “Don’t worry. He’s a friend.”

“You talk to your horse?”

“Of course. Don’t you?”

Jamie scratched his head. “Actually, I’ve never had the chance to get to know a horse before. Where I come from, only the wealthy can afford them. But yours is the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen. Do all women in Canada ride a horse like you?”

Tutuyak was straddling her horse wearing a pair of woollen pants, riding boots, and a loose cotton blouse. “I don’t know about others, but this is the way I ride them. Why do you ask?”

“Because the women I’ve seen riding horses in Ireland wear skirts and ride side-saddle, with both legs on one side of the horse.”

“As I see them riding in your towns down by the river,” she said, understanding. “Then your women don’t know how to ride a horse properly. How could you possibly gallop side-saddle?”

Jamie smiled. “That’s a good point. Should I go wake up Colin?”

She nodded. “I have permission from the elders to take you to Quebec City. It is a day’s ride from here. That is the best place to go if you and Colin want to get to Montreal as quickly as possible.”

“We’ll do our best to keep up with you and your horse,” answered Jamie, hoping that Colin would be up for walking such a long distance.

Tutuyak smiled and put two fingers in her mouth. She blasted out a short whistle. A muscular mare with a flaming auburn coat, saddled and ready to go, trotted around the corner of the longhouse and pulled up next to Dreamer..

Jamie was awed. “How did you do that?”

“I train them. It’s part of what I do for my village.”

“A woman of many talents,” he said. “Very impressive. And what’s her name?”

“Falcon.”

Jamie eyed the horse. “Falcon, eh? Does she eat meat? Should I keep my distance?”

She sadly shook her head. “And I thought you were a well-educated boy. She’s named Falcon because of her speed.”

“That’s good to know.” He smiled as he walked up to the horse and let her sniff his hand. “So Falcon, do you really like to fly? Well, please take it easy on me. We Irish break easily.”

Tutuyak threw back her long hair. “We’d better go.”

Jamie grinned with excitement. “I’ll go get Colin.”

The village of Wendake, Tutuyak’s village, looked quite different from the Irish sod and thatch-roofed homes with which Jamie was familiar. Most of these buildings were either built of log or clapboard. Jamie assumed that so many houses were made of sturdy wood because of the fact that Canada was brimming with huge forests. With their Irish forests already plundered, the peasants of Ireland did not have the luxury of lumber and had to build their homes from the only materials that they could find: sod from the peat bogs for the walls and the fields of hay for the thatched roof.

Tutuyak kept Colin in her lap while Jamie trotted close behind on Falcon. Wendake, she explained, was named after Tutuyak’s ancestral land that once stood on the shores of Georgian Bay in Canada West. Those who were out chopping logs or tending