until her sons were rescued.
For more than two thousand years, dogs
have pulled wooden sleds across the Arctic ice, snow,
and summer tundra, providing work, comfort,
hunting skills, and sniffing abilities.
11
Alika was at a seal hole with Sulu, not far from the snowhouse. Jamka was guarding the hole when there was a sound of ice shattering about a hundred feet away. Pieces flew into the air as the entire body of a narwhal shot up, twisting and turning. Its ten-foot tusk was aimed toward the sky. They watched as the narwhal fell back into the opening.
"What was that?" a shaken Sulu asked.
Alika was shaken, too, but finally said, "I think a killer whale was chasing it."
There were no sounds, but Alika knew there was a wild struggle under the ice between the narwhal and the killer whale, and he could only imagine them going at each other in a fight to the death, their huge bodies swimming up and down, circling.
The ripping jaws of the killer whale would have the advantage, he thought.
Blood soon stained the water around the floe edge, and a while later the killer whale floated to the surface, a piece of the narwhal's tusk rammed into its belly.
Sulu asked, "Could they come through the ice after us?"
"I doubt they'd bother," Alika answered, though he was still shaken by the fight. It would be quite a story to tell in the meeting hall when they returned to Nunatak.
Sulu, seeing one of the killer whale's big eyes already beginning to film over, asked, "What else is out here?"
Alika said, "If we drift far enough south, you may see belugas or bowhead whales. But they aren't any threat, Papa said. The belugas talk a lot. I've heard them. They chirp and click to one another. The bowheads have no interest in us."
Sulu wasn't convinced. "Did we do something bad to the spirits? Maybe even Kokotah?"
"Not at all, Little One. We've just had awful luck. I think good things will now start happening."
They stayed by the
aglus
another hour, then Alika gave up waiting and they walked several hundred yards to another hole that Jamka selected.
After an hour with no results, they returned to the snowhouse, ate, and went to bed.
A while later, Alika was awakened by a heavy thump and rolled off the sleeping platform onto the hard-packed floor. Jamka had also been awakened by the strange sound and had jumped down to the floor with a growl. Alika felt the husky's tense body a few inches away and asked, "What was that?" Sulu didn't awaken.
If it had been a bear about to attack, Jamka would have acted on instinct and already gone outside. Alika stayed on his hands and knees for a few minutes longer, trying to think of what might have happened. No human could have caused the thump. If something had hit the snowhouse from above, the snow blocks would have caved in.
The thump had to have been caused by grounding or impact with another big floe or maybe even by a berg ramming them from behind. There were no other possibilities.
Alika whispered to Jamka, "Let's go." His heart was pounding. They began to crawl out of the windbreak tunnel, Alika's mouth dry with suspense. He picked up the Maynard.
Outside, the moon was struggling to break through the cloud cover, shining for a few seconds and then disappearing. But in the few shafts of light, Alika saw what had caused the thump: A berg, with sky-reaching shards of ice like grinning teeth, had ridden up alongside the floe, temporarily locking to it. Alika was certain it was the same berg that had rammed them before and broken them from land, a familiar berg that seemed to have a grudge against them.
It had also grounded, probably in shallow water, stopping the drift of their floe. Perhaps they could crawl over it? Maybe it was up against the eastern shore and they could just step off onto land and head for home. Alika had never heard of anyone climbing up the slick surface of a berg, though. If only the in-and-out clouds covering the moon would give him a chance to really see it. But they
For more than two thousand years, dogs
have pulled wooden sleds across the Arctic ice, snow,
and summer tundra, providing work, comfort,
hunting skills, and sniffing abilities.
11
Alika was at a seal hole with Sulu, not far from the snowhouse. Jamka was guarding the hole when there was a sound of ice shattering about a hundred feet away. Pieces flew into the air as the entire body of a narwhal shot up, twisting and turning. Its ten-foot tusk was aimed toward the sky. They watched as the narwhal fell back into the opening.
"What was that?" a shaken Sulu asked.
Alika was shaken, too, but finally said, "I think a killer whale was chasing it."
There were no sounds, but Alika knew there was a wild struggle under the ice between the narwhal and the killer whale, and he could only imagine them going at each other in a fight to the death, their huge bodies swimming up and down, circling.
The ripping jaws of the killer whale would have the advantage, he thought.
Blood soon stained the water around the floe edge, and a while later the killer whale floated to the surface, a piece of the narwhal's tusk rammed into its belly.
Sulu asked, "Could they come through the ice after us?"
"I doubt they'd bother," Alika answered, though he was still shaken by the fight. It would be quite a story to tell in the meeting hall when they returned to Nunatak.
Sulu, seeing one of the killer whale's big eyes already beginning to film over, asked, "What else is out here?"
Alika said, "If we drift far enough south, you may see belugas or bowhead whales. But they aren't any threat, Papa said. The belugas talk a lot. I've heard them. They chirp and click to one another. The bowheads have no interest in us."
Sulu wasn't convinced. "Did we do something bad to the spirits? Maybe even Kokotah?"
"Not at all, Little One. We've just had awful luck. I think good things will now start happening."
They stayed by the
aglus
another hour, then Alika gave up waiting and they walked several hundred yards to another hole that Jamka selected.
After an hour with no results, they returned to the snowhouse, ate, and went to bed.
A while later, Alika was awakened by a heavy thump and rolled off the sleeping platform onto the hard-packed floor. Jamka had also been awakened by the strange sound and had jumped down to the floor with a growl. Alika felt the husky's tense body a few inches away and asked, "What was that?" Sulu didn't awaken.
If it had been a bear about to attack, Jamka would have acted on instinct and already gone outside. Alika stayed on his hands and knees for a few minutes longer, trying to think of what might have happened. No human could have caused the thump. If something had hit the snowhouse from above, the snow blocks would have caved in.
The thump had to have been caused by grounding or impact with another big floe or maybe even by a berg ramming them from behind. There were no other possibilities.
Alika whispered to Jamka, "Let's go." His heart was pounding. They began to crawl out of the windbreak tunnel, Alika's mouth dry with suspense. He picked up the Maynard.
Outside, the moon was struggling to break through the cloud cover, shining for a few seconds and then disappearing. But in the few shafts of light, Alika saw what had caused the thump: A berg, with sky-reaching shards of ice like grinning teeth, had ridden up alongside the floe, temporarily locking to it. Alika was certain it was the same berg that had rammed them before and broken them from land, a familiar berg that seemed to have a grudge against them.
It had also grounded, probably in shallow water, stopping the drift of their floe. Perhaps they could crawl over it? Maybe it was up against the eastern shore and they could just step off onto land and head for home. Alika had never heard of anyone climbing up the slick surface of a berg, though. If only the in-and-out clouds covering the moon would give him a chance to really see it. But they
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