Trapped in Ice (17 page)

I knew this couldn't go on for much longer. It was stalking us, coming closer and closer. Soon, in a few more seconds or a few more feet, we would come into focus and the bear would charge. Michael would panic and start running and the bear would chase him down and ... I stopped. What if it wasn't Michael who moved? The bear growled, a full, long, loud, throaty cry that almost drove my plan from my mind.

“Michael, stay still,” I said quietly. “Whatever happens ... don't move until the bear has gone. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” his voice croaked.

The bear cocked its massive head to one side, aiming an ear at our voices. It still gazed in our direction with one eye, a black hole against the grey of its head. I moved, just slightly off to one side. The bear stopped dead in its tracks. Terrified, I fought the urge to simply freeze again. I had to move. I shuffled sideways an-other step. The bear, still not moving, swivelled its head to follow my motion. It growled again. This time it was different. Much more quiet. I imagined it was a sigh of satisfaction, like: “I've got you now.” I shuffled over another step, and then another and another.

I turned back towards Michael. “Don't move until you know it's not going after you.”

He nodded.

Then I ran.

I heard the bear groan and the sound of scraping, its claws digging into the ice as it leaped forward. I ran off to the side, trying somehow to angle around the bear and reach the far side of the camp. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the bear. It was charging towards me in big loping strides, quickly closing the gap between us. I screamed uncontrollably! It was getting bigger and bigger, coming closer and closer. I could see every ripple of its body, the muscles, the folds of the skin, the mouth partly open, the thick tongue hanging out of one side. It was like slow motion, as if the bear was running through deep water. I could see every detail but none of it seemed real. I stopped screaming and, unexplainably, started laughing. It was as though I was watching it from a distance, as if there was no danger. There was a wave of relief as I realized the bear couldn't possibly get me because I was no longer there. My body got warm all over and I felt myself just melt. I fell to the ice.

The thud brought me back to reality, but within a split second I felt a crushing blow against my back. I raised my head just high enough off the ground to see the bear rolling, head over tail. It slid to a stop. It had tripped over me when I dropped to the ice. It shook its massive head and turned and faced me. I tried to sit up but couldn't catch my breath. My chest hurt and I thought I was going to pass out. The bear snarled and came forward once more until it was just a few short strides away. It was in no rush. It knew I had no escape. The beast rose up on its hind legs and I gasped. A mass of white fur, blotting out the horizon and stretching up to the sky, soared over me. And then I saw a huge paw coming towards me.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

I
TRIED TO SIT UP
. A groan escaped my lips.

“Helen, you're okay! Praise the Lord!”

I turned towards Mother's voice.

“Don't try to get up!” she said as she rushed over and eased my shoulders back onto the cot.

“What happened?” I asked weakly. My chest hurt and my head was spinning around. “What happened ... the bear?”

“It's dead ... shot dead.”

“But how ... who?” I asked, forcing the words out.

“Kataktovick heard you screaming. He shot it as it was starting to swing at you. Then it collapsed, on top of you. Oh Helen, we were so worried ... I was so scared I was going to lose my daughter as well …”

She started to cry and wrapped her arms around me. My chest hurt badly and I needed her to loosen her grip, but not as much as I needed her arms around me. Finally she released me and looked into my eyes.

“Michael told me
...
he told us all, what you did. Helen, that was so brave, so very brave.”

I nodded weakly and felt my eyes start to close.

“It's going to be okay, Helen. Go to sleep.”

 

T
HE CURTAIN PARTED
and a head poked through the tunnel. I was surprised to see it was Kataktovick. He was one of the last people I expected to come in here. He was always friendly enough, but he never said a word to me unless I asked him something. He nodded his head and smiled and came to the side of my cot. I slid my feet out of the sack and sat up.

“Hello, Kataktovick. Thank you for what you did.” He nodded his head. I waited for him to speak but he didn't. I needed to break the silence. “I guess I was lucky you came along right at that time or I would have been killed.”

“There a while.”

“You were there a while? Why didn't you shoot it sooner?”

“Bad shot. Had to wait to not hit Helen. Also watch to see if bear change to Inuit.”

“What do you mean? I don't understand?”

“Bear sometimes changes to man. Sometimes man changes to bear.” He held out his hand. “Take.” I reached out and he dropped something into my hand. It was a tooth.

“From bear.”

I turned it over, looking at it carefully. It was unbelievably long and smooth to the touch, snowy white all the way down to the yellow root. I was holding in my hand one of the teeth that would have crushed me to death.

“Atagtat ... wear around neck.”

“Around my neck? Like a charm?”

“Protect ... safe ... powerful. Helen okay?” he asked.

“I guess so. I'm just very tired.”

“Tired, yes. I been pleadin' ta tupilaks,” he said. “Tupilaks? What is a tupilak?”

“Ummm, tupilaks …” I could tell he was struggling to find the word in English. He smiled. “Spirits.”

“Thank you, but you don't have to plead to the spirits for me. I'm fine, really.”

“Not you ... for white one.”

“White one?”

“Yep. White one. One without a shadow.”

“For the bear?”

He nodded.

“You're praying for the bear!”

He nodded again. “Took life of bear ... need to plead with tupilaks ... spirits ... to make the bones get covered with meat again ... make bear come back.”

“I don't understand.”

Kataktovick looked more confused by me not understanding than I was by his story.

“Plead with spirits ... pray ... for five days after bear killed ... if don't ... bear never return.”

He turned around and walked to the highest part of the domed ceiling. He raised his hands into the air and started to chant.

It was a strange, haunting cry. I listened, mesmerized, as he continued to chant. Soon I detected a pattern. It wasn't Mozart, but it had that same haunting sort of quality. I stood up. I found myself quietly humming along to the melody.

Kataktovick turned to me and smiled. He continued to chant and I joined in, the best I could manage.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

T
HE BLOWING SNOW
had kept us trapped in our shelters for three days after the last party, led by the Captain, returned to the camp. The Captain had wanted to leave the day after his return, taking just enough time to load up all the sleds and go. I could tell, without him saying anything, that he was impatient. I knew part of the reason we hadn't left was the weather. But the other reason was me; they feared I wasn't well enough to move. At first my chest ached with each breath and I had a terrible headache. These pains passed. Mother had me check closely to make sure I wasn't leaking blood out of either end. I prayed to God each night and gave thanks each morning when no blood came. Mr. Hadley said the force of the bear had only “bent” my ribcage and “rang” my bell. There weren't even any cuts on my back. My thick clothing, which had gotten shredded by the bear's claws, had protected me. Mother had stitched up the rips so well they weren't even noticeable.

I heard the sound of somebody coming in through the tunnel. I swung my feet off the cot and got to my feet gingerly. The curtain was pushed aside and Michael's parka-covered head came through.

He looked up at me. “It's time,” he said quietly. “Are you ready?”

“Of course I'm ready,” I snapped back, and then instantly regretted speaking so sharply. He'd been very nice to me since the bear attack. He hadn't teased me or made fun of me in days. Mother had said this would probably end soon, so I should enjoy it while it lasted. I almost missed him giving me a hard time. Almost.

Kataktovick and the other Inuit had also been acting differently around me. They were treating me like I wasn't a child any more; they were more quiet and serious. I knew the Inuit had great respect and fear for Nanook, the polar bear, and I'd faced him. Kataktovick said they'd be telling my story to their families when they returned and these stories would live on longer than we would. That was a strange thought; something I'd done would be told and retold by people I'd never meet and would never know. Strange, but nice. Like being a character ... a hero ... in a novel.

“Helen …”

“Yeah, I'm coming, I'm coming.”

“No ... I just ... I just wanted to ask you a question.”

I turned around and looked at him. “Sure, what?”

“I wanted to know why.”

“Why what?” I asked.

“Why did you do it ... have the bear chase after you?

Why didn't you just stand there?”

“I don't know. You're my brother. Wouldn't you have done the same thing for me?”

Michael looked sheepish but didn't answer.

“Wouldn't you have?”

“I don't know, maybe,” he answered. “I always thought I'd be the one doing something like that, but I was so scared I couldn't do anything.”

“I was scared too,” I admitted.

“But you did something. I just didn't expect it ...

didn't expect you to be the one saving me ... it was just ... just so unlike you. Why did you do it?”

I would have been offended by what he said if I hadn't agreed. It wasn't like me.

Over the past few days, lying there on my bed, waiting for the storm to break, I'd tried to answer the same question. I kept thinking back to Father. All through his sickness he'd gotten smaller and smaller. He became weaker, hardly able to hold his head up. I sat and watched helplessly through the weeks which stretched into months. I knew there was nothing I could do for Father except witness his death. And, out on that ice, facing the polar bear, I knew I couldn't simply watch another member of my family die.

Michael stood waiting for an answer I couldn't really give him yet. “We better get going,” I said. Michael retreated out of the tunnel.

I started to tighten up the buttons and clasps of my parka and then pulled on my mitts. Slowly I looked around the shelter and at Mother's large trunk. It was to be left. It contained all the clothing we didn't have on our bodies or on the sleds. The clothes were folded and mended. Only Mother would be so neat with clothing destined for the bottom of the ocean. There was space on the sleds for food, fuel and our survival gear, but not for much more. We each had a little space for personal things and I'd packed my diary and chess set.

I picked up the oil lamp and carried it over to the tunnel. I placed it on the ice and then dropped to my knees
and started to back out through the opening. I reached to extinguish the lamp, and then stopped. This lamp wasn't coming with us. I dimmed the flame, and it cast a soft, gentle light which illuminated the curves of the shelter. The scene was peaceful and calm. Anyone coming here would find it inviting. I knew it didn't make any sense, because nobody would be coming, but it made me feel better. I wanted to remember it as a safe and friendly place.

The rush of brilliant white light blinded me as I stood up. The sun was low in the sky, just above the horizon. It didn't really rise very high in the sky ever. It just circled around the horizon. Its light, coming at us flat across the open ice, bounced off all the ice and snow, and was dazzlingly bright. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. I slipped on my snow goggles, which were specially made to block out some of the sun's rays. We would have almost six hours of brilliant sunlight and without the goggles my eyes would be damaged. Snow blindness can happen to anybody who travels without protection over the snow in bright sunlight for a long time.

Clouds of vapour came out of our mouths and rose straight into the air before vanishing. There was a slight wind but it couldn't push away my breath or penetrate through my thick clothing. I guessed it was probably no more than twenty degrees below zero. I pulled down my hood and felt the air sting my ears. I quickly pulled the hood back up. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I looked around.

Everybody in the camp had already assembled outside the shelters. The twenty-one dogs lay quietly on the ice,
divided into teams. Two teams of four dogs each were harnessed to the two komatiks. Three dogs, unfit for pulling, were simply tied to the side, and the remaining ten dogs were divided into two teams and harnessed to the two larger sleds. All four sledges were piled high with supplies, covered by canvas. These supplies were everything we'd need for the next four or five months, not just on the ice but for our stay on the island while we were waiting for the whalers to come ashore. The Captain said we could hope for some game once we made it to shore, but we wouldn't have any time to spend hunting while we were on the ice.

I walked over and rubbed Daisy behind the ears. She nuzzled against me, finding the pocket holding the treat. I removed the biscuit and held it flat on my hand. She gobbled it down hungrily. I didn't think it was right she should have to pull the sled since she was expecting puppies. She didn't look any different to me under all her thick fur but Kataktovick said she was pretty far along.

Next I went to check on Figaro. I pulled aside a cover from one of the large sleds. His container, a small wooden box, was securely anchored in place. I flipped the latch open and reached in quickly before he could get out.