Leif climbed out onto the rocky shore and pulled the canoe up above the waterline. Then he reached in and gently lifted the body of Little Carl out and carried it in his arms to the trees where the water would never reach, not even at high tide. At the base of a giant cedar he scooped needles into a gentle, soft bower, and laid Little Carl carefully down, pushed more needles into a warm, soft edge around the little body, like a kind of bed. A cradle.

Back at the canoe he took half of the remaining smoked fish and laid the fish beside Little Carl so his spirit would have food to help him over into Valhalla, and covered him with the blanket.

Then, for the rest of the day, he gathered flat and round stones and built a shelter around and over Little Carl. When the initial shelter was done, he kept going, making trip after trip to the shoreline to gather rocks, and with great care and effort fashioned a cairn of stones over the grave nearly as tall as himself and knew . . .

Knew.

Knew these stones would always be there to mark this place where the ghost of a great young warrior lay, who had bravely fought the battle of the sick air left by the men who lost their shadows and had earned his right to be in Valhalla.

This place.

The Cairn of Little Carl.

For all the time stone could last.

Forever.

Then, spent, he lay back against the stone cairn and let rest take him and slept for a space until the new sun hit his face and awakened him. It was time, he suddenly thought, time to make more of himself.

He moved to the canoe, took out the rest of the bundle, and spread it on the ground. In the chaos and torture and sadness of The Sick, as he had come to think of it, and the deep sorrow of the loss of Little Carl, he had not paid attention to anything practical. He had been ready for death, had set himself to be prepared for death.

But not for living.

And now it was time.

Old Carl had not had long to prepare the canoe for a long voyage. Or for any voyage at all. The Sick, the poisoned air, was all around and the crew had been dropping as if cut down by a weapon. There was the sudden horror of a man leaning over as he helped another dying man, catching the sickness, and dropping in his own death on top of the dead man. Everybody was ending so fast there had been no time to gather everything needed for what now faced Leif.

He looked down at what he had.