were headed southwest for the Russian coast. It was fall.
A pod of beluga whalesâ white as snowâ caught up and followed him. They were stocky and about twice the length of a porpoise. Sikuâs big wake made swimming easier for them. He also pleased them. He was a gentle whaleâ a bowheadâ and they enjoyed his company. Around themâ Arctic lionâs mane jellyfishâ floated like dream ghosts. Forests of seaweed began to appear below Siku to mark his progress south. The belugas left Siku just beyond Barrow.
Near the Russian coastâheard the screechingâ lugubrious tones and whistling chatter of other bowhead whale âsongsâ far ahead of him. It was a comforting sound to a lonely bowhead.
Ahead of him millions of pink salmon hatchlings, the smallest and most northern of the Pacific salmon, were moving in a living cloud. The young salmon were heading for the deep ocean in order to grow. Two years from this timeâ they would return to the same freshwater streams where they had hatched. There they would spawnâ deposit eggsâ and die. Their eggs would hatchâ the fry would swim downstream to the seaâ and the cycle of life and death would go on.
Asswam south along the Russian coastâ he came upon a village. The waters didnât taste right. Dead whales floated around the spot. The scene was morbid. The Yankees were taking only the valuable baleen from the bowheads they were killing now. Whale oil was being replaced by the black fossil oilâ so they now killed increasingly just for the baleen.
Siku spy hopped. He saw no peopleâ no dogsâ no smoke. The village houses had fallen in; their drying racks were empty.
The walrus and whale population had been decimated. Thisâ together with Yankee diseases like measles, influenzaâ scarlet fever, and smallpox, had led to starvation and to the collapse of many villages.
The water lapped softly on the shore. Over the swishheard the sounds of a whaling ship coming toward him. He dove. The ship was so near that he could hear the men talking on board. Whales listen. He stayed down in the water until he no longer heard them. Then he swam on through the Bering Strait.
T
oozak was hunting caribou on the coast near the
Kasegaluk [Ka-SIG-ah-luk] Lagoon seven days travel from his village. Suddenly he heard the shriek of wood splintering in the distance. He knew that sound. Ice was crushing the white manâs wooden whaling ships. He climbed an ice block and squinted. Seamen were strung out across the ice hauling whaleboats. Their ships were crushed to splinters between the pack ice and land-fast ice. He smiled; they were leaving their ships too fast to take the furnishings. There would be splendid articles to salvage later from the wrecked ships.
When he got homeâ Toozak found his father-in-law insulating his house with snow. He piled snow around the wallsâ sealed one more wind leak as the young man was getting off his sled.
âKakinnaaqââ Toozak said. âThe white men are abandoning ships that are caught in the ice. They are taking only their lives. Let us get their furnishings.â
âWe must see what they left behind. Get my big sledsââ Kakinnaaq saidâ smiling. âWe go.â
Toozak harnessed six dogs to each of two sleds. Kakinnaaq took oneâ he the otherâ and they mushed for a week over new-fallen snow to the ships that were heaved over in the ice.
Toozak and Kakinnaaq climbed carefully onto the tilted deck of a ship and stepped around broken riggingâ spilled oilâ and the bricks of the broken tryworks.
âPass things to meââ said Kakinnaaq. âI will put them on the sleds. I see inland Eskimos coming for the salvage. We must hurry.â
Toozak passed potsâ pansâ knivesâ lineâ and even the huge windlass to Kakinnaaq. When they had loaded all they could carryâ they lashed down
A pod of beluga whalesâ white as snowâ caught up and followed him. They were stocky and about twice the length of a porpoise. Sikuâs big wake made swimming easier for them. He also pleased them. He was a gentle whaleâ a bowheadâ and they enjoyed his company. Around themâ Arctic lionâs mane jellyfishâ floated like dream ghosts. Forests of seaweed began to appear below Siku to mark his progress south. The belugas left Siku just beyond Barrow.
Near the Russian coastâheard the screechingâ lugubrious tones and whistling chatter of other bowhead whale âsongsâ far ahead of him. It was a comforting sound to a lonely bowhead.
Ahead of him millions of pink salmon hatchlings, the smallest and most northern of the Pacific salmon, were moving in a living cloud. The young salmon were heading for the deep ocean in order to grow. Two years from this timeâ they would return to the same freshwater streams where they had hatched. There they would spawnâ deposit eggsâ and die. Their eggs would hatchâ the fry would swim downstream to the seaâ and the cycle of life and death would go on.
Asswam south along the Russian coastâ he came upon a village. The waters didnât taste right. Dead whales floated around the spot. The scene was morbid. The Yankees were taking only the valuable baleen from the bowheads they were killing now. Whale oil was being replaced by the black fossil oilâ so they now killed increasingly just for the baleen.
Siku spy hopped. He saw no peopleâ no dogsâ no smoke. The village houses had fallen in; their drying racks were empty.
The walrus and whale population had been decimated. Thisâ together with Yankee diseases like measles, influenzaâ scarlet fever, and smallpox, had led to starvation and to the collapse of many villages.
The water lapped softly on the shore. Over the swishheard the sounds of a whaling ship coming toward him. He dove. The ship was so near that he could hear the men talking on board. Whales listen. He stayed down in the water until he no longer heard them. Then he swam on through the Bering Strait.
T
oozak was hunting caribou on the coast near the
Kasegaluk [Ka-SIG-ah-luk] Lagoon seven days travel from his village. Suddenly he heard the shriek of wood splintering in the distance. He knew that sound. Ice was crushing the white manâs wooden whaling ships. He climbed an ice block and squinted. Seamen were strung out across the ice hauling whaleboats. Their ships were crushed to splinters between the pack ice and land-fast ice. He smiled; they were leaving their ships too fast to take the furnishings. There would be splendid articles to salvage later from the wrecked ships.
When he got homeâ Toozak found his father-in-law insulating his house with snow. He piled snow around the wallsâ sealed one more wind leak as the young man was getting off his sled.
âKakinnaaqââ Toozak said. âThe white men are abandoning ships that are caught in the ice. They are taking only their lives. Let us get their furnishings.â
âWe must see what they left behind. Get my big sledsââ Kakinnaaq saidâ smiling. âWe go.â
Toozak harnessed six dogs to each of two sleds. Kakinnaaq took oneâ he the otherâ and they mushed for a week over new-fallen snow to the ships that were heaved over in the ice.
Toozak and Kakinnaaq climbed carefully onto the tilted deck of a ship and stepped around broken riggingâ spilled oilâ and the bricks of the broken tryworks.
âPass things to meââ said Kakinnaaq. âI will put them on the sleds. I see inland Eskimos coming for the salvage. We must hurry.â
Toozak passed potsâ pansâ knivesâ lineâ and even the huge windlass to Kakinnaaq. When they had loaded all they could carryâ they lashed down
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