The Last Samurai

The boy put the thought out of his mind. Cross that bridge when we come to it. At least the wind had died down. The only sounds were the squeak of the runners on the snow, the loud panting of Dixie as she struggled with the unaccustomed load, his own quick breath and the groans of the injured man.

The air was clear as crystal. Was that an igloo in the distance? It must be an Inuit encampment. Only the Inuit stayed so far north so late in the season.

Two hours later they staggered into the settlement.

‘Where are we?’ muttered the man.

‘It’s an Inuit camp,’ the boy replied.

‘Will they speak English?’

‘I speak Inuit,’ said the boy.

‘Good thing I brought you,’ said the man with a ghastly grin.

Two fur-clad figures approached. The boy struggled to remember a few phrases picked up from The Eskimo Book of Knowledge months before.

Taimaimat Kanimajut âniasiortauningine maligaksat sivorlerpângat imaipoK: ANIASIORTIB PERKOJANGIT NALETSIARLUGIT.

The two men turned without a word and returned to their igloos. The only sound was the fine snow drifting through the encampment.

The boy tried again:

Ilapse ilangat killerpat aggangminik âniasiortib mangipserpâ ajoKertorpâselo killeK mangipsertautsainartuksaungmat. Ilanganele killertub mangiptaK pêjarpâ, kingornganelo tataminiarpoK killeK âKivalialugane piungilivaliatuinarmat. Nerriukkisê âniasiortib mangiptaK najumitsainarniarmago uvlut magguk pingasullônêt nâvlugit killeK mamitsiarKârtinagô?

Silence was the only reply.

Desperately he summoned up a few words of greeting from that half-remembered book:

Sorlo inôKatigêksoaKarjmat unuktunik adsigêngitunik taimaktauK ataneKarpoK unuktunik adsigêngitunik, anginerpaujorle tamainit, idluartomik ataniortoK inungnik KaKortanik Kernângajuniglo Kernertaniglo, tagva atanek George, ataniojok Britishit atanioviksoanganut. Tâmna atanerivase.

Suddenly a shot rang out, and the boy fell lifeless to the snow.

As far as I can see, The Eskimo Book of Knowledge is completely useless. ‘The first rule in curing sickness or injury is TO OBEY THE INSTRUCTIONS OF THE WHITE MAN.’ When am I ever going to use that? They should have called it A Hundred and One Things Not to Say Where the Inuit Can Hear You.

When one of your people cuts his hand, the Trader covers the wound with a bandage and instructs the man to keep the wound covered. Often the man throws away the bandage and wonders why the wound grows worse instead of better. Do you expect the Trader to hold the bandage round the man’s hand for two or three days until the wound is healed?

That’s going to make us popular.

As there are many different races, so there are many different rulers, but the greatest ruler of all, who governs with justice White Men, Brown Men and Black Men in very many countries, is KING GEORGE the ruler of the British Empire. He is your King.