Authors: Jean Craighead George
Ice Whale (17 page)
“Sikuâ” she saidâ “what big bones you have!” She laughedâ ate more of her gooseâ drank some waterâ and napped. It was a sunnyâ calm midnight.
When she nodded awakeâ she was aware that the winds had changed. Clouds were blowing in from the Chukchi Sea.
That could mean trouble
â she worried.
Hurriedly she rolled several large vertebrae high on the beach close to the tundra grasses and placed them in a circle. She covered them with the big broad whale shoulder blades to make a roof. All the bones were heavyâ but she worked hard.
Emily Toozak was still working on her whale-bone house when the first snowflakes arrived. She dug a hollow in the pebbles inside and lined it with the remains of her blanket.
Making sure her house was strongâ she went outside and pushed against it with the force she supposed the wind might have. She had hardly tested it when loping out of the waves came a seal pup. He walked up to her on flippers and stomach crying real tears. She picked him up and held him close.
“Natchiayaaqâ” she saidâ “where is your mother? A storm is coming.”
The baby seal looked at her. Hugging him closeâ she crawled back into her house and sat down with him in her arms. When he stopped wigglingâ she fed him some goose breast. He gobbled it up.
“My hot-water bottleâ” she said when she realized how warm the seal was. “I am going to need you.” She tucked him into her parka.
The wind struck. The massive bones held.
For three days the storm raged. Food and water ran out at the end of the third day. The pup became restless. He cried in a mother-calling voice.
“Maybe he knows his mother is nearâ Sikuâ” she said. “I feel you want me to set him free.”
The doorâ howeverâ was crusted with ice and snow. She kicked it hard to clear it off. When it fell openâ there was the sunâ white gold and beautiful. Reluctantly she put her “hot-water bottle” on the pebbles. Natchiayaaq was free. He loped off toward the water.
“Natchiayaaqâ don't leave yet.” But he was gone.
Two heads swam off through the wavesâ a big one and a little one. She smiled.
Emily Toozak gathered her thingsâ tied on her pack and walked to the tundra.
A
long the beach ran a bluff. Emily Toozak climbed
it to have a look around and saw a caribou standing apart from a small herd nearby. She ducked down; she was afraid the caribou would run when he saw her.
She dropped to her knees and crept toward him. When she was nearer she could see that he was limping. His head was low. He couldn't run. Should she wait until he stumbled and fell? Noâ she didn't have the time to wait. She crept on toward him wondering how she would kill such a big animal with just her knife.
A melodic song arose. She looked up. Five wolves pranced on their long legs along the rim of the horizon. She stopped moving. She would watch. To run might be an invitation to the wolves to chase her. The wind was blowing her scent away from them and she was safe for the moment.
Suddenly she wanted to sneeze. But she pinched her nose and “achooed” into the moss. Peeking through the hairs of the fur on her parkaâ she saw that in that instant the wolves had attacked the caribou and their snarlings had covered her sneeze.
They were intent only on finding food and quickly put the caribou out of his misery and pain.
With their great jaws they splintered the bonesâ tore into the hideâ and ate his liver for the vitamins they would get. Then they ate meat. When they were fullâ they went back over the horizonâ presumably to their whelping den and the pups inside it.
Emily Toozak jumped to her feet and ran to the carcass. She cut off large pieces of meatâ picked up her gearâ and started to run. She wanted to leave the wolves' caribou far behind before she stopped. No one had told her how gentle wolves could be.
Back at camp by the bayâ she sat down to dig an oven and build a fire to cook the delicious meat. Driftwood was scattered all along the beach. There was more than enough to make a nice fire.
“Sikuâ thank you. You are really protecting me.”
She looked about. The land was still endless. Birds calledâ a wolf howled. But something had changed. A weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
She wheeled around and faced the bay.
“Sikuâ” she called. She was quiet for several minutes. There was no answer. Siku was far awayâ but his spirit was hereâ with her.
Then she stood up and faced the seaâ her arms reaching out.
“Sikuâ Sikuâ
The shaman's curse is gone.
Goneâ goneâ ayeâ ayeâ aye.
The shaman's curse is in the wind.
Ayeâ ayeâ aye.”
Three weeks had passed since she had been pulled overboard. When the meat was cookedâ she ate it. Then she slept. Then she got up and walked up the coast to the north.
T
he ship
North Star
motored north through the
Bering Strait and into the Arctic Ocean. It was June and Captain Tom “Tommy” Boyd V was standing on the deck fighting the wind.
“What a beautiful sightâ” he said to Willâ his twenty- two-year-old son and now the ship's first mate. He laughed. “Our ancestors would never have said that about the Arctic. It was frightening to them. Imagine bringing a sailing ship past those islands in the Bering Strait and then into this ice-covered ocean in 1848!”
Will nodded and watched the Arctic birds through his binoculars. With his keen interest in birds, he was fascinated by all the new species he was seeingâmurresâ guillemotsâ shearwatersâ eidersâ and aukletsâto name a few.
“I hope the bowheads will increase in numbersâ” Captain Boyd said. “No whalers except certain Eskimo communities can take them now.” The president of the United States had even recently signed the Endangered Species Actâ and the whales were now included on that list.
Captain Boyd strode back to the chart house and took the wheel. He steered the ship up the west coast of Alaska to deliver its cargo of merchandise the Eskimos had ordered from catalogs a year ago.
Near Wainwrightâ the ice was almost goneâ and with it the seals and walrus. Fulmarsâ stout birds with a four-foot wingspanâ were hunting fish as they circled above the Chukchi Sea. The young of the brant geeseâ yellow-billed loonsâ and eider ducks flew among themâ strengthening their wings for their August migration. Sandpipers tiptoed in lines down to and back from the water as they hunted food. Will was enthralled. He had wanted to see these birds since his dad had taken the helm of the
North Star
six years ago and brought back stories about the wildlife in the north. Will knew then what he wanted to doâstudy birds in the Arctic.
Captain Boyd anchored the ship at the coastal town of Olgoonik [ul-GOO-nik]â now called Wainwrightâ to unload some cargo. When the goods that the Eskimos had ordered had been carried ashoreâ the captain piloted the ship on to Barrow.
At Barrowâ he anchored the
North Star
some distance offshore in deep waterâ as the town has no harbor. With the ship secureâ he leaned on the rail and watched the men unload the freight into launches which could come ashore on Barrow's beach.
Will joined him and leaned on the rail beside his dadâ looking at all the boxes of freight. Gas stovesâ table lampsâ and more would be unloaded at Barrow. Everyone assumed that Eskimos still lived according to the old waysâ but he knew that they had many modern conveniences just like everyone else.
Although Will's ancestors had been Yankee whalersâ the Boyds had turned to merchant shipping once the whaling industry disappeared. They kept returning to the Arctic Ocean. It was in their blood. But Will was more interested in zoology than in boats. He was coming north as an ornithologistâ not as a merchant shipper. He had graduated from Cornell University with a degree in ornithology. He loved to be with his father when he navigated these waters.
He glanced at the thermometer on the deck. It read 30 degrees F. It was the end of August.
“Freezing in the dog daysâ” he saidâ and laughed.
“Just a late summer's day up hereâ” Captain Tommy repliedâ and turned to a sailor. “Order a launch to go ashore. I'm going to town to eat at the Mexican restaurant at the Top of the World Hotel.” He grinned. “Best burritos in the whole country.”
Over the VHF radioâ they heard a whaling crew calling back to townâ reporting the successful harvest of a young bowhead miles away. It would take several hours for all the boats to tow it back to the beach. There it would be shared among the thankful and hardworking community. The crew gathered round as they listened to the details of the report.
“Let's go watch them pull it up on the beachâ” Will said.
The launch arrived and they went ashore.
W
ill and his dad walked to the north edge of the
village and joined the villagers to help pull the forty-ton whale up on land. They stayed to watch it being butchered. The meatâ
maktak
[muk-tuk] (skin with blubber)â and baleen were put on sleds. The villagers took their prize home joyfully. Nothing was better to eat than bowhead whale. When all of it had been distributed and the women had cut off the last bit of meat from the bonesâ Will took out his binoculars and focused on the birds again. Suddenly an Arctic gyrfalcon streaked before himâ pursuing a ptarmigan.
“I think I'll stay ashore awhileâ Dadâ and look aroundâ” he called to his fatherâ who was heading for the restaurant.
“Okay. Radio for a launch when you're ready.”
Thrilled to be finding birds he had never seen beforeâ he started walking. He walked until a car stopped and offered him a ride to the trading post. Suddenlyâ he realized he was cold. He jumped in and rode to the post and went inside for a cup of coffee. Before longâ he was conversing with the man who worked on an exploratory oil rig in a remote area. Fascinated by of the complexity of the projectâ Will began to ask a lot of questions.
“Heyâ I'm flying out there for a few hoursâ” the man said. “I have a small Cessna airplane. Want to come with me?” Will immediately accepted and radioed his father to tell him. The pilot loaned him a warm parka and polar boots. They flew to Cape Simpson.
As he stepped out of the plane on the remote airstripâ he saw a rare Mongolian plover fly by.
“Wowâ I'm going to follow that birdâ if you don't mindâ” he said to the pilot. “It's a new one for me.”
“Okayâ but keep the rig in sight. I'll meet you back here in two hours.”
Will knew that the Mongolian plover was very rare in this area and so he followed it. Soon he found himself far out on the tundra.
And thenâ suddenlyâ the fog set in and he was lost. Whiteouts are one of the perils of the Arctic. He tried to orient himself by the sunâ but it was no help. The fog was too dense and the sun never set in the Arctic to tell him which way was west. His dad had once said that in the far Arctic the sun sets first to the north. So in which direction was the oil rig? Were the birds flying
to
it or
away
from it?
He looked north. Nothing. He turned a complete circleâ and there on the horizon for a brief instantâ were the distant poles and cranes of the rig. Then the fog quickly set in again. He tried to maintain a heading toward the rigâ walking for hours. When the fog lifted againâ there was no rig in sight. He had walked the wrong way and was lost.
An Eskimo appeared in the distanceâ coming toward him. Will sighed with relief. The man could lead him back to the airstrip where the Cessna had landed. He waited.
The Eskimo turned into a young woman carrying a sack on her back. When he saw herâ he burst into a jog.
“Help meâ” Will said. “I'm lost.”
“I am too!” said Emily.
They stared at each otherâ smiledâ and burst into laughter. Her face was brown with sunshineâ her smile framed beautiful teethâ and her dark eyes sparkled.
“Ohâ lookâ could that be the oil rig?” she asked pointing to a faint object on the skyline. Will turned around.
“Yesâ” he saidâ “it isâ” and began to walk toward it. He faltered and stopped.
“Waitâ I think that's a mirage. We should be going this wayâ” he saidâ and started walking in the wrong direction again.
She grabbed him by the shoulderâ turned him aroundâ and faced him toward the distant rig.
“Walkâ” said Emily Toozak. She took his hand and pulled. “I'm Emily Toozak.”
Will's feet felt cold and tired. But he went toward the rig step by reluctant step. While they walked Emily Toozak told him an amazing tale of living on the tundra for three weeksâ with a whale for a guideâ and as he listened to her wordsâ Will forgot he was lost. He had no idea that Emily had been missing for almost a month. She seemed so oddly comfortable with her situation. The rig grew larger and more distinct with each step they took toward it.
“You say a bowhead whale saved you?” he asked as they came to the runway and walked onto it. She looked him straight in his eyes.
“Yesâ” she saidâ “but now I'm back in civilization. I have to radio my parents and let them know I'm safe.” She smiled a million words.
He believed her story. The Arctic was unlike any place he'd been before. He felt like anything could happen here.
The pilot had been patiently waiting for his passenger for hours. He was worried the young man had gotten lost in the fog. He knew how unforgiving this country could be. Heâ Emilyâ and Will ducked and climbed into the small Cessna and took off to the west.
The airplane rolled to a stop on the Barrow tarmac and Will climbed out. He reached up to give Emily Toozak a handâ but she was still sittingâ her eyes closed. He thought he heard her whisperingâ “Siku.”
Emily Toozak opened her eyesâ pulled her hood over her headâ and climbed out of the plane. She walked slowly across the tarmac to the passenger terminalâ up the stepsâ and into the building. She gave a whoop and ran forward. There were her parentsâ Bennyâ his son Jamesâ and Oliver. The pilot had radioed ahead that she had been found and was in good healthâ and the airport had called her parents. It was a small town.
At homeâ she was greeted by her family and dozens of friends. She was overwhelmed to be back with so many people she loved. The village seemed huge. Her mother had roasted a caribou shank and brought out the best of the summer's berries. Emily thought of the last caribou and plants she had eaten. When they were doneâ Emily Toozak spoke quietly of her adventures.
Robert Toozak took her hand when she was finished.
“Emily Toozakâ” he saidâ “do you really think that Siku pushed your floe to shore and saved your life?”
“Yesâ I do. The curse is liftedâ” she repliedâ though she believed in her heart it was never a curse. “We both have helped each other.”
Laterâ Benny beat his dance drum far into the night.
Not many days after thisâ Will applied for and got a job at the Navy Research Lab.
In a few yearsâ he and Emily Toozak were married.
They named their firstborn son Agvik (meaning “whale”)â with no numerals. The Toozak curse had been lifted. That was the year 1989.