soon thickened.
Alika stayed outside with Jamka, going closer to the berg, until the wind began to whine. Then they returned to the house for safety.
Alika felt his way inside and climbed back onto the sleeping platform, arranging his body along Jamka's back. He lay there thinking about the berg and this chance, maybe the only chance, to escape.
Perhaps on the other side of the berg, he could carry Sulu on his back and wade ashore. Jamka could swim it, of course. But Alika did not know how far the floe had drifted from Nunatak; whether he could go north and find the village in the blackness. And there were other problems. Many.
He didn't know if he could climb the berg with his sealskin boots, which had little traction and often skidded on the flattest ice. Even if he could reach the top, he'd have to figure out a way to get Sulu and Jamka up there.
As soon as Sulu awakened, Alika said, "A berg hit us while you slept. I think it is the same miserable one that rammed us before. It has grounded. I'm going to try to climb to the top of it and see how close we are to shore. Jamka will stay here and guard you."
"Why can't I go along?" Sulu asked, eyes still heavy with sleep.
"I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself. It will be very slippery going up. If there is not much water on the other side, we might be able to escape."
"When will you do it?"
There was dim light coming through the ice-pane window. The storm had passed, and there was enough moonlight still beaming down to make it possible for Alika to navigate the climb.
"I'll try now."
There was a gaff, a carved whalebone hook, still strapped to the sledge from summer sea-fishing. Alika unwound the rope from the short wooden tool, thinking he could use the pole to pull himself up if needed. Sulu followed his brother and Jamka outside, and on seeing the huge shape plastered with new snow and its shards lit up, ran to Alika and grabbed his legs, saying, "Don't do it; please don't do it..."
"It may be our only chance, Little One. The farther south we drift, the more the strait will open wider and the more the floe will begin to crumble. The winter hunters may not come out this far. I must try. Papa and Mama would want me to try."
"I'm so frightened," said Sulu, his small face tight with alarm. "When you get to the top, you could slide down into the water and I'll never see you again. Never!"
"I promise I'll be careful," Alika replied. "Very careful."
The brothers and the dog advanced on the berg, and the closer Alika walked toward it, the more he felt as if this huge mass of ice were saying to him, "Don't you dare!" The wind had blown the new snow away from some of the crevasses chiseled on its ugly frozen face. It was an ancient berg, Alika knew. Perhaps hundreds of glacier winters old.
Alika stood for a few minutes longer looking at the frowning face and trying to work up the courage to make the climb. He wished he could speak to Inu, ask him to provide a good Inuit spirit to help.
He studied the face, carefully examining the entire front of the berg. The swordlike blades of ice here and there had tips that were knife sharp, probably from the summer melt. If he fell on any of them, he'd likely die.
Both Sulu and Jamka had their eyes focused on him. He couldn't turn back. He said to himself, "I have to be strong."
Nukilik.
He hugged Sulu and said to the dog, "You take care of my brother."
Alika stepped off the floe and onto the berg, holding the whalebone hook in his right hand. As a child during the short Arctic summers, he'd scrambled over big rocks in an area south of the village while playing with other boys, but he had never thought he'd have to climb a berg. He wished the storm wind had blown all the snow off the ice so he could see the best way to go up.
The crevasses might be the answer, and Alika edged toward them, his boots already sliding on the slick surface beneath the snow. The ice in the crevasses, hidden from the sun, would be rock
Alika stayed outside with Jamka, going closer to the berg, until the wind began to whine. Then they returned to the house for safety.
Alika felt his way inside and climbed back onto the sleeping platform, arranging his body along Jamka's back. He lay there thinking about the berg and this chance, maybe the only chance, to escape.
Perhaps on the other side of the berg, he could carry Sulu on his back and wade ashore. Jamka could swim it, of course. But Alika did not know how far the floe had drifted from Nunatak; whether he could go north and find the village in the blackness. And there were other problems. Many.
He didn't know if he could climb the berg with his sealskin boots, which had little traction and often skidded on the flattest ice. Even if he could reach the top, he'd have to figure out a way to get Sulu and Jamka up there.
As soon as Sulu awakened, Alika said, "A berg hit us while you slept. I think it is the same miserable one that rammed us before. It has grounded. I'm going to try to climb to the top of it and see how close we are to shore. Jamka will stay here and guard you."
"Why can't I go along?" Sulu asked, eyes still heavy with sleep.
"I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself. It will be very slippery going up. If there is not much water on the other side, we might be able to escape."
"When will you do it?"
There was dim light coming through the ice-pane window. The storm had passed, and there was enough moonlight still beaming down to make it possible for Alika to navigate the climb.
"I'll try now."
There was a gaff, a carved whalebone hook, still strapped to the sledge from summer sea-fishing. Alika unwound the rope from the short wooden tool, thinking he could use the pole to pull himself up if needed. Sulu followed his brother and Jamka outside, and on seeing the huge shape plastered with new snow and its shards lit up, ran to Alika and grabbed his legs, saying, "Don't do it; please don't do it..."
"It may be our only chance, Little One. The farther south we drift, the more the strait will open wider and the more the floe will begin to crumble. The winter hunters may not come out this far. I must try. Papa and Mama would want me to try."
"I'm so frightened," said Sulu, his small face tight with alarm. "When you get to the top, you could slide down into the water and I'll never see you again. Never!"
"I promise I'll be careful," Alika replied. "Very careful."
The brothers and the dog advanced on the berg, and the closer Alika walked toward it, the more he felt as if this huge mass of ice were saying to him, "Don't you dare!" The wind had blown the new snow away from some of the crevasses chiseled on its ugly frozen face. It was an ancient berg, Alika knew. Perhaps hundreds of glacier winters old.
Alika stood for a few minutes longer looking at the frowning face and trying to work up the courage to make the climb. He wished he could speak to Inu, ask him to provide a good Inuit spirit to help.
He studied the face, carefully examining the entire front of the berg. The swordlike blades of ice here and there had tips that were knife sharp, probably from the summer melt. If he fell on any of them, he'd likely die.
Both Sulu and Jamka had their eyes focused on him. He couldn't turn back. He said to himself, "I have to be strong."
Nukilik.
He hugged Sulu and said to the dog, "You take care of my brother."
Alika stepped off the floe and onto the berg, holding the whalebone hook in his right hand. As a child during the short Arctic summers, he'd scrambled over big rocks in an area south of the village while playing with other boys, but he had never thought he'd have to climb a berg. He wished the storm wind had blown all the snow off the ice so he could see the best way to go up.
The crevasses might be the answer, and Alika edged toward them, his boots already sliding on the slick surface beneath the snow. The ice in the crevasses, hidden from the sun, would be rock
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