The Haunted Igloo (15 page)

Jean-Paul felt very grown-up. He patted his
mother on the shoulder with the same affection his father always
used.

“
Look at her go!” he shouted. “See how
strong she is! She’s the greatest little sled dog in the
world!”

“
Yes, she’s a wonderful husky!” Lise
called back, the wind taking her words away. “Oh ... no…” She fell
silent.

The sled sailed on over the
well-packed sea of snow, winding around in a way familiar to
Jean-Paul. Soon, they came to a long, low hill where Cordell always
had to shove the sled. Jean-Paul got off the runners and pushed at
the sled as Sasha struggled up the hill. From behind the sled he
heard his mother cry out.

“
What’s the matter?” he
shouted.

Lise’s voice returned.
“Nothing ... it’s ... it’s okay ... okay…”

Jean-Paul pushed harder at the sled, but
instead of feeling it slide ahead, he felt he was pushing dead
weight.

“
Get going, Sasha!” he shouted at the
top of his voice. “Come on, girl! Pull, Sasha, you can do
it!”

Lise cried, “It’s no use,
Jean-Paul! The hill’s too steep!”

But Jean-Paul refused to
give up. “She can, Ma! I know she can!” He leaned forward and
shoved hard, but the sled refused to budge. His lungs were about to
explode. The blood pounded at his temples. Sweat trickled down his
neck into his parka. His feet slipped out from under him on the
slippery snow. Dry, powdery snow fell now, covering everything with
a sparkling white cold. Jean-Paul felt his strength go, as if he
were pushing at a brick wall. Finally, his breath almost gone, he
raised his head and looked to the front of the lines.

“
Oh, no!” he screamed. “Look at her,
Ma!”

The dim light revealed the
dog curled up in the middle of the trail. Sasha’s nose lay on her
front paws in defeat.

Lise sat up. “What?” Then
she saw. “Oh, dear God! Oh, Jean-Paul!” She slumped back against
the pack. “We’ll never make it in time!” She broke off suddenly and
gasped.

Jean-Paul left the back of
the sled and went up front. He grabbed Sasha’s harness and tugged.
“Come on!” His voice carried through the night air. “Come on, you
stupid husky, get moving!
Hah
, Sasha,
Hah
!
”
Jean-Paul thought,
If only Chinook was
here
!

Sasha whined and raised her head.

“
You can’t stop now!” Jean-Paul tugged
the harness again.

Sasha answered in small
barks that sounded like,
I don’t want
to
!

“
It’s no use!” cried Lise. “The sled’s
too heavy. I have to get off.”

“
Sasha, get up!
” Jean-Paul
commanded.

But Sasha put her nose back on her paws and
pretended to be asleep. Jean-Paul went back to the sled just as his
mother climbed off. She reached for his arm to steady herself.

“
You can’t walk up this hill!” he
said. “It’s too steep. You might fall.”

“
Well, what choice is there?” Lise
asked with a sigh. “Sasha can’t pull the sled with me on it. She’s
too tired.”

“
She’s not tired,” Jean-Paul said with
a glance at the dog. “She’s lazy!”

Lise began walking, slowly
and carefully. She stopped to rest once or twice, leaning over and
gasping with small sharp breaths. The sky was light gray now. Snow
covered parka hoods and eyelashes. A pair of snowshoes would have
come in handy, for snow was almost over their boots in places.
Jean-Paul tried to help his mother. But she was heavy and could not
stand straight. He thought what a strange pair they made, holding
each other up—she with her clumsiness and he with his bad foot.
Sometimes he thought they would fall together. When they reached
the spot where Sasha lay peeking out of one eye, Jean-Paul scolded
her. “Shame on you! What kind of husky are you? Amarok would not
have stopped!”

Sasha pricked up her ears,
but did not speak. Lise reached down and touched her head. “Poor
doggie, she’s so tired. Come on, Jean-Paul, let’s walk ... to the
top of the hill. Can’t be much farther, can it?” She moved out
ahead of him, and Jean-Paul hurried to help.

“
From this hill to Aklavik is still
about five miles,” he said.

They were well ahead of Sasha and the sled,
almost to the top of the hill. They moved slowly. Jean-Paul and his
mother stopped again to rest before going on. Jean-Paul turned
around and looked back to Sasha. She was standing now, watching
them. Then she barked loudly three times. She whined. Her
brush-tail curved over her back, wagging gently.

“
You’re a lazy dog, Sasha!” Jean-Paul
shouted. “You’re worthless!”

Jean-Paul was tired, too.
He wanted to cry. He had promised his father he would help his
mother. Now she was walking up a slippery hill with her baby ready
to be born. His father would never forgive him if anything
happened. And Jean-Paul would never forgive Sasha. Sadly, he turned
again to help Lise.

Suddenly, from behind them
came the sound of sleigh bells, and runners
slish
ing over snow. They turned
together to see Sasha pulling the sled up the hill. Her belly was
low to the ground, her tail and ears down.

Jean-Paul dropped to his
knees and whistled. “Good girl! Come, Sasha, come!”

Pulling the sled to the top of the hill was
easier without a passenger. Sasha soon got her second wind and
pulled so fast that she passed Jean-Paul and his mother. Then she
stopped and waited for them to catch up. She sat down in the snow,
her pink tongue hanging out.

Lise struggled with
Jean-Paul to reach the sled. “If I didn’t feel so tired and
miserable,” she said, “this would be funny enough to laugh ... but
I
can’t
laugh…” Her
teeth chattered. She pulled her hood closer around her
face.

Jean-Paul helped her the last few feet. When
they reached the sled, she sat down on the side of it. Sasha
whined.

“
I don’t s–see how I c–can go on,”
Lise said. “How much f–farther?”

Before Jean-Paul could
reply, she stiffened and groaned. He was terrified! “What can I
do?” he wailed. “We’ve got to go on! It isn’t far now, Ma. And the
trail’s flatter.” He reached out to touch her. But she looked so
strange that he yanked his hand away.
Suppose she has the baby right now
!
he thought in a panic.
Could she have it without help
?

After a while Lise sighed
and lifted her feet into the sled. She lay back against the bundle,
panting hard. “We have to find shelter very soon. I can’t give
birth in the cold, like a mother dog has pups.” She closed her
eyes. “I’m sorry to worry you so much, Jean-Paul.”

“
It’s okay, Ma.”

But Jean-Paul wondered if that were true. He
knew he had to work fast. Time was running out. If anything went
wrong, it would be his fault. He went back to his position behind
the sled.

“
Please
, God!” Then he yelled to Sasha,
“No more fooling around now!
Hah
,
Sasha,
Hah
!
” He had never used a whip to make
the husky go. But if he had one right now, he would be tempted to
use it.

He shoved off with his good foot as Sasha
began pulling the sled again.

Chapter 10

T
he trail ran downhill into a valley. Jean-Paul knew the
sledding would be much easier. Sasha barked excitedly as she picked
up speed. She had run this same trail many times and knew the way
to Aklavik.

The descent into the valley
was over in no time. The trail leveled out again, and Sasha’s
“second wind” kept her running. A shadow loomed suddenly in the
distance. Sasha broke from the trail and ran directly toward it. At
first, Jean-Paul wasn’t sure what it was. But as they came closer,
he knew. He fought the husky and the sled, trying to steer them
back onto the trail.

“
No, Sasha, no!”

Lise sat up. “What’s the
matter?”

But Jean-Paul’s mind was on
the thing that lay ahead, and he seemed not to hear. “No, Sasha!”
he screamed.

Then Lise saw it. “Oh! An
igloo! We must stop!”

Jean-Paul was frantic. His
stubborn husky was taking them directly to the haunted igloo. Old
fears rose up inside of him. Tears of anger gushed down his face,
perhaps to freeze there forever. “Not that one, Ma! Please, not
that igloo!”

He tried once more to turn the sled, but
Sasha came to a complete stop a few feet from the igloo. She turned
to Jean-Paul and wagged her tail. She barked loudly and danced
around in the snow. She had done her part to make up for lost
time.

Lise tried to stand. “Oh,
lovely Sasha! Jean-Paul, help me.”

But Jean-Paul was frozen to the spot. He did
not hear as he stared through his tears at the igloo. It was larger
now, more like a small hill, from all the drifted snow. Someone had
built a new entrance.

“
Jean-Paul ... help me…”

Jean-Paul shook his head to clear his mind.
He looked with dismay at his mother. His voice shook when he
spoke.

“
You can’t g go in
there!”

“
Nonsense!” Blond hair stuck out in
all directions around his mother’s face. Her eyes were feverish and
wild. “It’s the answer to my prayers!”

“
It’s the haunted igloo
!” Jean-Paul
screamed.

Lise tugged the parka
closer to her throat. “There’s no such thing, Jean-Paul! I need to
get inside, at once!”

“
But there are
torngark
in there!” he whimpered. “And
wolf spirits!”

Lise found her balance and
stepped up to Jean-Paul. She grabbed him firmly by the shoulders
and looked into his terrified face. “Listen to me, Jean-Paul! You
must forget evil spirits! The baby’s coming! This is no time for
foolishness!”

Jean-Paul’s heart lunged
into his throat. “No, Ma, no!”

“
You
must
help me!” She gave him a little
shake. “Jean-Paul, you absolutely must! I’m counting on
you!”

“
I can’t! Don’t ask me to. I
can’t!”

Lise shook him again, then
dropped her hands. “Very well. I’ll go in there alone. And you may
stand here and cry all you want!”

Jean-Paul was ashamed of
himself. He brushed at his tears with the back of his hand. Sasha
had brought them to this place for a reason. He knew that if the
baby was coming, there was no time to get to the village. His
father’s voice pounded inside his head:
Help your mother, Jean-Paul
!
Help your mother, eh
?

“
What do you want me to do?” he asked
in a small voice. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

His mother smiled. “Thank
you, Jean-Paul. Now, you must help me get inside that igloo. Bring
in the bundle and the lantern. I’ll need some heat and
light.”

Without another word Jean-Paul untied the
pack of robes and blankets. He picked up the lantern and found the
tin of wooden matches. The match lit with the first strike, and he
touched the flame to the wick of the lamp. The lamplight cast a
yellow glow on a circle of snow around them and filled the air with
the strong odor of kerosene. The orange and blue flame flickered as
a gust of air seeped through cracks in the lantern, but the fire
held.

Jean-Paul pushed thoughts of spirits from
his mind and dropped to his hands and knees before the opening.
Sasha barked as he entered the igloo with the lantern.

Inside, Jean-Paul stood up
and looked around. The igloo was really deserted. A shiver ran down
his spine, but he tried to ignore it. He set the lamp on the
snow-packed floor and turned to go after the bundle. Near his feet
lay a wolf pelt—shaggy and gray and probably full of
fleas.

“
It’s the thing I felt that day,” he
said aloud.

For a moment he thought he
heard a wolf howl. But, no, Sasha had yelped again, outside. The
light from the lantern made scary shadows on the igloo’s cold white
wall—wavering shadows that made the round room close in on him. He
fought back the band of fear that tightened his chest, and he crept
back outside into the fresh air.

“
Take the bundle,” Lise said. “I’ll
follow.” She got down on hands and knees, slowly and
gently.

“
Can you do it?” Jean-Paul
asked.

His mother gave a little
cry. “I have to, don’t I? I can’t stay out here in the cold. You go
first.”

Jean-Paul crawled into the
igloo again. In the middle of the floor beside the lantern, he
dropped the pack and quickly untied the thongs, unrolled it, and
spread the robes on the floor. He heard movement and turned to see
his mother coming slowly through the opening. He reached out to
help her and she took his hand. Her breath came fast and hard as
Jean-Paul helped her to the bundle of robes, and she sat down. Lise
removed her parka and said, “You have to go on to the village.
Bring someone to help.”