furs, crawled out the entranceway, and started into the freezing air. Tooth Girl followed me out and dashed off toward the shore.
Though the blizzard was over, flakes of snow swirled around me. I relieved my bladder in a hole some distance from the igloo—how good it was not to have to use a bucket. From the top of the gentle rise where the people of this village had built their igloos, I looked at the harbor.
The light revealed an eerie scene: in the distance, the
Windward
was stuck in shallow waters, tilted away toward a shoal of rocks that thrust up like a whale’s jagged teeth. I could make out Captain Bartlett and others, some in the blue uniforms of officers, wading in waist-high water. They gripped ropes tied to the ship’s masts. On a second reef, closer to the shore, several more crewmembersstruggled to secure the lines around massive boulders, trying to keep the ship from toppling over.
The fate of the ship did not look good. But the passengers had managed to get off. As many as thirty men, our men in addition to the crew, crowded a small, snow-covered spit of land. Some of them unloaded cargo from rowboats and stacked it into large piles at the water’s rocky edge. Others rolled barrels and dragged crates up the beach past the irregular line of seaweed that marked the tide.
I saw Bag of Bones stacking boxes, but no Angulluk. I’d find him later.
I spotted Marie, a small figure in a green cloak alongside Mitti Peary. They were heaving and rolling a big barrel up from the shoreline.
I made my way along the beach as fast as I could go over the rocks and huge drifts of snow. I waved. “Marie! Mitti Peary!”
Marie ran toward me, stumbled on a rock, and picked herself up. She threw her arms around me. “Oh, Billy Bah!” Her eyes were bright. “We’ve had such adventures!”
“What happened? The ship has almost tipped over!”
“I nearly fell out of my bunk, but my blankets held me in. We could hardly walk when the ship was turned on its side! Mother made me put on all three of my dresses and my cloak.”
I laughed. She
did
look plump. I was so grateful that she was alive that I hadn’t noticed.
Her breath puffed into the frosty air. “Mother and I slid down the deck on our bottoms. Right into the rowboat!”
“You’re a brave girl, Marie.” I looked over at Mitti Peary struggling with the barrel. Her long skirts were soaked at the bottom. “Let’s help your mother.”
Mitti Peary’s eyes offered me half a smile. She was too out of breath to say much.
While Marie skipped around us, her mother and I heaved the barrel above the tide line. We went back and pushed another; then we dragged a crate. Marie carried tackles and ropes. The growing piles on the upper beach, shielded by snow-covered tarpaulins, looked like sleeping walrus.
Mitti Peary sat down on the crate with a weary sigh, shivering. I sat beside her on a barrel and we faced the water and the tilted ship. Mitti Peary turned to Marie, who was climbing up the pile. “Marie! This is not a place to play. Go run on the beach.”
“Come with me, Billy Bah.” Marie grabbed my mittened hand.
“Not now,” I said. “Maybe we’ll have time later.”
“Don’t go far!” Mitti Peary called to Marie.
Already dashing away, she ran through the snow, heading toward the upper beach. Beyond it rose snow-covered hills and icy mountain peaks.
“Heaven knows how she can keep going like that,” Mitti Peary said. The feathers on her hat were soggy andcrumpled. Her long brown hair hung damp about her shoulders.
The tide had gone out farther, and the ship, tied to boulders by two long ropes, leaned at an even sharper angle than before. The ropes seemed strained to a breaking point.
Mitti Peary sighed again. “I don’t know what we’ll do if the
Windward
is lost.”
“The ship could right itself if there’s water under it,” I said, making sure to pronounce every word correctly. “The tide will start coming in.”
Mitti Peary
Though the blizzard was over, flakes of snow swirled around me. I relieved my bladder in a hole some distance from the igloo—how good it was not to have to use a bucket. From the top of the gentle rise where the people of this village had built their igloos, I looked at the harbor.
The light revealed an eerie scene: in the distance, the
Windward
was stuck in shallow waters, tilted away toward a shoal of rocks that thrust up like a whale’s jagged teeth. I could make out Captain Bartlett and others, some in the blue uniforms of officers, wading in waist-high water. They gripped ropes tied to the ship’s masts. On a second reef, closer to the shore, several more crewmembersstruggled to secure the lines around massive boulders, trying to keep the ship from toppling over.
The fate of the ship did not look good. But the passengers had managed to get off. As many as thirty men, our men in addition to the crew, crowded a small, snow-covered spit of land. Some of them unloaded cargo from rowboats and stacked it into large piles at the water’s rocky edge. Others rolled barrels and dragged crates up the beach past the irregular line of seaweed that marked the tide.
I saw Bag of Bones stacking boxes, but no Angulluk. I’d find him later.
I spotted Marie, a small figure in a green cloak alongside Mitti Peary. They were heaving and rolling a big barrel up from the shoreline.
I made my way along the beach as fast as I could go over the rocks and huge drifts of snow. I waved. “Marie! Mitti Peary!”
Marie ran toward me, stumbled on a rock, and picked herself up. She threw her arms around me. “Oh, Billy Bah!” Her eyes were bright. “We’ve had such adventures!”
“What happened? The ship has almost tipped over!”
“I nearly fell out of my bunk, but my blankets held me in. We could hardly walk when the ship was turned on its side! Mother made me put on all three of my dresses and my cloak.”
I laughed. She
did
look plump. I was so grateful that she was alive that I hadn’t noticed.
Her breath puffed into the frosty air. “Mother and I slid down the deck on our bottoms. Right into the rowboat!”
“You’re a brave girl, Marie.” I looked over at Mitti Peary struggling with the barrel. Her long skirts were soaked at the bottom. “Let’s help your mother.”
Mitti Peary’s eyes offered me half a smile. She was too out of breath to say much.
While Marie skipped around us, her mother and I heaved the barrel above the tide line. We went back and pushed another; then we dragged a crate. Marie carried tackles and ropes. The growing piles on the upper beach, shielded by snow-covered tarpaulins, looked like sleeping walrus.
Mitti Peary sat down on the crate with a weary sigh, shivering. I sat beside her on a barrel and we faced the water and the tilted ship. Mitti Peary turned to Marie, who was climbing up the pile. “Marie! This is not a place to play. Go run on the beach.”
“Come with me, Billy Bah.” Marie grabbed my mittened hand.
“Not now,” I said. “Maybe we’ll have time later.”
“Don’t go far!” Mitti Peary called to Marie.
Already dashing away, she ran through the snow, heading toward the upper beach. Beyond it rose snow-covered hills and icy mountain peaks.
“Heaven knows how she can keep going like that,” Mitti Peary said. The feathers on her hat were soggy andcrumpled. Her long brown hair hung damp about her shoulders.
The tide had gone out farther, and the ship, tied to boulders by two long ropes, leaned at an even sharper angle than before. The ropes seemed strained to a breaking point.
Mitti Peary sighed again. “I don’t know what we’ll do if the
Windward
is lost.”
“The ship could right itself if there’s water under it,” I said, making sure to pronounce every word correctly. “The tide will start coming in.”
Mitti Peary
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