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Authors: Jean Craighead George

BOOK: Ice Whale
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Eventually I will go on to
Tikigaq
[TEE-key-gak]
(
the village that would one day be called Point Hope).
If I can get there before the sea ice melts and the Yankee whalers arrive‚ I will warn Siku. I will protect him as the shaman has willed
.

But how did someone warn a whale away? He would have to ask the elders and hunters.

Suddenly he smiled. Years ago‚ when he was at one of the annual trade fairs at Sisualiq [SIS-ou-ah-lik] “place that has begula whales‚” he had met a lovely girl named Qutuuq [KOO-took]. She lived in Tikigaq. It was impossibly far from his village‚ but it was near to where he was going now. He had thought he might never see her again.

For a moment he imagined he would find her‚ and maybe he would marry her‚ and the two of them could protect Siku together.

He turned his thoughts to Tikigaq.


Thank you‚ Siku‚ because of you I have hope.”

And for the first time since he had revealed to the Yankees where the whales were hiding‚ his spirit lifted.

S
ailing through the ice floes and rough seas in the
big
skin boat‚ Toozak and the family made their way slowly to Unazik‚ on the Russian mainland. They lived on seal and walrus that they harpooned among the ice floes during their three-day journey. They were lucky there were no storms to slow their progress. The remarkable skin boat rode the ocean swells perfectly‚ like the graceful walrus it was made of. Thousands of seabirds flew overhead‚ ice floes freckled the immense sea. Toozak sat in the bow immersed in the beauty‚ power‚ and excitement of the journey.

When they arrived at the mainland‚ Toozak paid the family with half the dried fish he had brought with him. He found his relatives in Unazik‚ and they celebrated his visit for several days. The Saint Lawrence Yup'ik were closely connected to the Siberian Yup'ik families along the Russian coast. They traded back and forth and often married.

Finally it was time to head north up the coast with his two dogs‚ his kayak‚ and all his gear. He moved north‚ sometimes paddling‚ sometimes being towed by Lik and Woof along the beach‚ and sometimes‚ when the seas were rough‚ dragging his kayak and gear.

His progress was slow but the scenery was new and exciting with coastal mountains‚ grizzly bears‚ and grasses that were turning gold. He met many Siberian Yup'ik and Chukchi families along the coast. He saw their dramatic-looking monuments‚ made of giant whalebones standing against the sky—a testament to their enduring cultures. Often‚ he would be invited to hunt with them‚ contributing his skill in exchange for a warm‚ dry place to sleep. He also learned a great deal about whales and whaling from hunters with great knowledge.

At Nunyamo‚ he made preparations for the dangerous crossing to the Diomede Islands and on to the North American continent. The Diomedes were the hub of trade between Asia and North America. The negotiations could be tense‚ as Toozak was bargaining with the wealthiest and most powerful Eskimos. They did not tolerate those who might interfere with their commerce.

Toozak approached a village elder.

“May I travel with you in your
umiaq
to the Diomedes?” he asked respectfully. Most traders spoke many languages‚ and he hoped he would be understood.

“What can you offer in return?” the elder replied in Yup'ik.

“I have very little‚” Toozak replied‚ “but I am a good hunter and hard worker.”

The elder‚ dressed in immaculate skins‚ grumbled and then nodded toward the huge
umiaq
that was being loaded. Toozak sighed with relief. A ride in the traders' large
umiaq
with many others would be much safer than trying to make the dangerous crossing himself in his small kayak with two dogs.

They traveled through the swift currents to the remarkable Big Diomede Island. Here was a whole village and society perched on near-vertical cliffs. Seabirds swirled‚ seals were numerous. It was a magical place.

They unloaded their trade goods and Toozak worked hard carrying the amazing variety of goods up the steep hills to the dwellings.

The next day‚ they reloaded the skin boat with more trade goods and continued across the treacherous currents of the Bering Strait. Toozak was tired and inwardly fretting about the trip that lay ahead.

Sea life was everywhere. The skin boat rose and surfed the huge waves. A ringed seal surfaced near the boat‚ stared‚ and dove in an instant. Then he heard the unmistakable whoosh of a bowhead's blow. He suddenly stood up and touched his cheek. Just as he did so‚ one of the whales rolled—and to his astonishment there it was . . . the mark of the Eskimo dancer on its chin.

“Siku‚ I will help you‚” Toozak whispered.

The whale dove and was gone‚ headed south.

They continued on to the village of Wales on the Alaskan coast. Villagers came out and pulled the boat ashore. It had been an incredible trip‚ and Toozak thanked the traders profusely for their help. He was in a new land‚ with new people and the prospect of a new life.

He traveled northeast up the coast of the peninsula toward the village of Qigiqtag [Ke-GIK-tuk‚ later known as Shishmaref]‚ where he met with the townsfolk and exchanged stories of his travels.

Toozak put his kayak in the water at the village beach. After harnessing the boisterous dogs and attaching them to a long line‚ he threw his packs in the kayak and got in. Singing happily‚ he navigated with the rudder‚ with the dogs‚ tails high‚ towing him along a chain of barrier islands north of the village. Every mile‚ every beach‚ put distance between Toozak and that terrifying shaman and brought him closer to his lovely friend. He knew that he would protect Siku‚ somehow.

“Siku‚ Siku‚

I will protect you.

I will protect you.

My loving whale‚

I will protect you.”

His feelings for Siku were warm. Now Siku was Toozak's whale. Toozak had seen him being born. He would protect him. He didn't know exactly how‚ but he would. He would find the ancient whale hunter. This whale hunter would help him protect Siku. And maybe then Toozak would know what to do. His heart pounded. He and Siku were brothers.

Now and then Toozak came ashore to eat and sleep. Late one afternoon‚ around dusk‚ he noticed a flock of auklets flying toward the deep water of the ocean where they spend the winter. This was a good sign. The freeze was coming, which would make traveling easier.

Three sleeps later he pulled ashore on the southern cape of Kotzebue Sound. The dogs leaped out of the kayak‚ nearly upsetting it. Steadying himself‚ Toozak stepped out onto a stony shore. He looked north over the gleaming water of the sound.

“Look‚ Woof‚” he said‚ stroking the dog's head. “Kotzebue Sound is still open. We will stay here till it freezes.”

He looked around‚ knowing he had lots of time before him. The landscape was different from that of his home. The shrubs were smaller and twisted by the wind and snow. In the distance‚ snow-tipped mountains shone white and turquoise. Clouds of birds flew south.

What was best‚ he saw‚ was that he was not far from the shore-hugging currents heading toward the Kotzebue Sound. Siku would travel north on them in the spring. He‚ Toozak‚ would scare off Siku's enemies‚ the Yankees and the orcas. The thought gave him great hope.

“Siku‚” he called out. “I will protect you.”

He threw out his chest and looked seaward. Then‚ putting down his sleeping furs and using his beloved sable as a pillow‚ he took out some raw fish for his supper.

An Eskimo man in fur garments approached him. Toozak was nervous. Had he crossed a clan territory line? In some areas‚ it was the custom to kill unknown travelers. Was the man coming to kill him?

“What are you doing here‚ young man?” The Eskimo asked him this question in four different languages before Toozak responded.

Using his hands and the few Inupiat words he had learned from the traders‚ he said‚ “I am waiting for the sound to freeze so that I can cross.”

“It will be weeks till that occurs‚” the man said clearly in Yup'ik when he realized Toozak was from that nation. He had a kind face and he smiled when he said‚ “Come stay with me and my family. Can you hunt? The hunting time is here and I could use some help.”

Toozak nodded and accepted the offer. He carried his kayak out of the wind‚ then called Woof and Lik to his side and joined the man.

The man's home was a large sealskin abode whose walls were decorated with tools and a grizzly bear skin. Toozak immediately felt at home.

Within a week's time‚ he had shot a caribou with his bow and arrow and caught many fish for the man. The man's wife was so grateful she not only gave him a portion of the caribou but helped him build a sled from willow limbs and driftwood. The sled was big enough to hold all of Toozak's possessions‚ including his kayak. He was pleased.

“My husband is getting old and is not as good a hunter as you‚” she said when they had finished making the sled. “I am glad for your skill.”

“And I am glad for yours‚” Toozak said‚ looking at the graceful sled she had helped to create.

Two weeks later‚ the sound waters began forming pancake ice‚ the round disks that precede the freeze-up. Cold winds blew down from the North Pole. The ice thickened. One day during the Moon of Freezing‚ October‚ when summer was over‚ Toozak chopped a hole in the sound ice with the stone ax the wife had given him. The ice was one foot thick—plenty thick to travel on. That day he told the family it was time for him to leave.

Early the next morning‚ despite stinging winds‚ Toozak lashed his possessions on the new sled‚ put his kayak on top of it‚ and hitched up the dogs. The sable he put under his parka‚ where he could hug it to ease his aching muscles. There were good spirits in it he was sure‚ just as his sister had said.

“Kiita‚ Kiita‚”
he called to Woof and Lik.
“Ah—eeee‚”
he called to his friends‚ and waved.

By late evening on the second day‚ he had mushed across the sound and arrived at the village of Sisualiq. The villagers came out of their homes‚ and Toozak was relieved to see that they greeted him joyously. Women in caribou parkas fed him‚ the men asked him for news‚ and finally all wished to know where he was going. When he said to Tikigaq‚ one elder was delighted. A well-traveled man‚ he began telling Toozak the best way to go.

“Take the old trade route‚” he said. “It goes over land. When you get to the Igichuk Hills‚ leave that route and take to the sea ice. It will be thick enough to travel on by then—and a lot smoother.

“It's a beautiful run to Tikigaq from the Hills at this time of year‚” he went on. “Little shrubs peeking through the snow. Caribou are scattered through the hills‚ they make the dogs happy. Very glorious.

“But stay tonight‚” added the elder. “Sleep this darkness in my home.”

The wind was now blowing snow and ice crystals. Toozak accepted the elder's hospitality. He followed his new friend to a large underground winter home. It was dug into the earth and domed with sod. One entered it by taking a tunnel down‚ then climbing up into the home. After tying Woof and Lik to a gnarled bush and feeding them frozen fish‚ Toozak followed his host through the
qanitchat
[KA-nit-chuk]‚ an airlock tunnel that captured the cold air to keep it from penetrating into the home.

As he came out of the tunnel into the house‚ he was welcomed by three young children and their mother. They greeted him warmly and showed him where to put his sleeping fur on the floor. Quietly he placed his sable on top of it. The sable had become his “good spirit.” He felt it would help him protect Siku‚ since the sable was an intelligent animal with a noble spirit.

When Toozak was settled‚ the mother‚ smiling broadly‚ handed him an iron frying pan that was filled with bubbling walrus soup. The soup was thick with fat and the meat was as tender as young caribou. While he ate‚ the husband asked him many questions—questions about fishing‚ questions about winterberries and whether he had seen any caribou. Had the snowy owls left?

Just before dark some important-looking men entered the home to talk to Toozak. They were dressed in elaborately decorated parkas of various furs. Around their necks hung bear claws and weasel tails‚ symbols of their importance.

“Have you seen the American sailing ships?” they asked.

Toozak nodded.

“Do they harbor evil spirits?” an elder asked.

Toozak said he didn't know. Talking about evil spirits made him uneasy.

“Do they come to trade?” asked one man. “Will they trade our furs for liquor and tobacco?” He smiled.

“They do have goods to trade‚” Toozak said‚ “like beads and tobacco. But‚ be careful‚ they come mostly to kill our whales. They also take the ivory tusks from our walrus. They kill many—many more than they need‚ I think. I have seen the ocean red with blood.”

“That's why there are fewer whales and walrus‚” observed an elder‚ shaking his head. “Our people will starve because of these men.”

The men departed at midnight‚ and at the following sunrise Toozak was ready to leave. The mother gave him a cooked snowshoe hare and the children gave him fish for the dogs. He rode away waving.


Kiita
‚ Woof.
Kiita
‚ Lik‚” he shouted. The snow made the runners of the sled squeal as they slid across it. Icy gusts buffeted Toozak and sent snow spiraling over the willows and land. It was thirty below zero, and rime ice crusted his eyebrows and ruff. But he was warm in his parka and had a full belly. Smiling‚ he rode into the snow clouds.

The Yankees have gone south for the winter. Siku is in the Bering Sea‚ far away from the greedy whalers‚
Toozak said to himself.
I feel him. He is swimming leisurely. He is rolling gently. He is in his winter home
.

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