Free Lost in the Barrens by Farley Mowat

Jamie was trying to explain his treasure find to a confused Awasin, who only vaguely understood what it was all about.
    â€œIt must have been like this,” Jamie said, running his words together in his excitement—“hundreds of years agosome of the early Viking explorers must have wandered into Hudson Bay and then tried to come south up the Kazon. Maybe it was a thousand years ago. The Vikings came west from Greenland in open boats and some of them must have come through Davis Strait. This proves it!” Jamie continued. “I’ll bet this sword and helmet are worth a thousand dollars to a museum!”
    The thought of so much money left even Jamie breathless for a moment, and in the silence Awasin asked a question. The talk of Vikings and Greenland and museums was above his head, but one thing was clear to his practical mind.
    â€œPerhaps you’re right about all this,” he said, “but just how do we get these things home?”
    The question brought Jamie back to reality. “You would think of that!” he said bitterly. Then suddenly cheerful again: “Listen, Awasin. We’ll leave the stuff right here, then next summer we’ll come back and get it. Come on, let’s see what else is in this old stone house!”
    His enthusiasm restored, Jamie once more crawled into the crevice while Awasin, curious despite himself, stood ready to take the objects Jamie might hand out.
    Worming his way downward, Jamie disappeared completely, but a few moments later his hand appeared. In it was clutched a dagger whose blade was rusted away to a thin sliver of metal. Awasin was examining it when Jamie’s muffled voice called him back to the tunnel mouth. This time the object was a flat, square piece of gray metal about the size of an old-fashioned school slate. Its weight madeAwasin grunt in surprise. “This is made of lead!” he called to Jamie.
    Jamie was busy tugging one more object out of the litter of fallen rocks and decayed moss. Finally he got it free and shoved it outside, calling at the same time, “What’s this?”
    For answer Awasin yelled as if he had seen a ghost. In fact he had. As he emerged into the daylight Jamie saw the object lying where Awasin had dropped it. It was a human skull.
    Awasin was trembling. “That is a grave,” he cried. “I’ll take my chances with the Eskimos! We’re moving camp!”
    Jamie was in no mood to argue. Hurriedly he pushed the ancient weapons back into the crevice and rolled a rock over the entrance. The skull he left severely alone. Then he hastened after Awasin.
    As he hobbled away he saw the small square of lead, and rather than go back to the grave again he picked it up and took it with him.
    Already Awasin had the camp gear rolled in the blankets. He was stuffing dry fish, fresh fish, and partly dry fish into a bag he had made from an old deerskin robe. His dark face was tense and anxious. Awasin wanted nothing so much as to put many miles between himself and the white skull beside the Great Stone House.
    They moved away a few moments later with Jamie limping badly and still using the paddle as a crutch. The sinking sun lay straight ahead, and its crimson rays fell full upon the ancient tomb whose history lay buried under the weight of a thousand winters.
    As night fell they made a new camp on the long ridge that ran westward like a ramp toward the bulk of Idthen-seth. After a skimpy meal of fish, Jamie sat silent for a little while staring curiously at the thin sheet of lead he had brought with him from the tomb. Awasin watched with disapproval, for to him it was an evil thing to carry away the possessions of the dead.
    At last Jamie spoke. “It’s covered with some kind of writing,” he said wonderingly. “Queer-looking, like picture writing.” He paused, looking back at the distant crest of the hill where the ruins stood. “I’ll bet if we could read it, we’d