Under the Ice

Viewing this familiar object, that was designed to fly up into the air and warn the hunter of a surfacing seal, filled Ootah with dread. Ever mindful of his last terrifying seal hunt on the pack ice a week ago, he attempted to back away from the open water. Unfortunately, this simple feat proved impossible, for his boots were frozen solidly to the ice below.

An angry gust of frigid wind scoured the valley, and finding himself chilled to the bone, Ootah had no choice but to look down to the waters of the pool.

Goosebumps formed on his shivering skin as he spotted a myriad of bubbles swirling to the surface. And below, he could just make out a dark menacing shape rising from the black depths. Unable to keep his eyes off this mysterious object, he gasped in horror upon identifying it as a human being. Its puckered hand beckoning him forward, and Ootah cried out in revulsion as he sighted the floating body’s head — for it was that of his dead mother!

It was at this point in the nightmare that he awoke.

The vision of his mother’s white, unseeing eyes was still clear in his consciousness as he stared out into the black depths of the igloo. Surely this was no ordinary dream, but one that had been placed before his eyes by the great deceiver himself — Tornarsuk!

Chilled by this realization, he scanned the darkened interior of the snow house as if seeing it for the very first time. The bare light of a soapstone lamp flickered alive at the igloo’s center, providing just enough illumination for Ootah to see the thick fur pelts covering the adjoining pallet where his father and son slept. Nakusiak’s snores filled the circular room with a resonant roar, while somewhere beyond gusted the ever-present howling wind.

Unable to fall back to sleep, Ootah decided to see how his dogs had weathered the storm. Slipping out of the covers, he dressed himself in his double-thick, caribou-skin parka, pulled on his boots and mittens, and silently crawled through the igloo’s sole exit.

Outside, he was met by a blast of numbingly cold Arctic air. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he peered over a newly formed snowdrift and caught sight of the dawn sun as it just broke the distant horizon. Even at noon, the muted orange ball would not climb much higher into the sky than it already was. Ootah was well aware that all too soon it would not even bother rising at all, as perpetual night ruled the Arctic winter.

The storm that had first arrived two nights ago had finally passed, leaving in its wake a crystal-clear, dark blue sky and mounds of freshly fallen, powdery snow.

The morning star twinkled in the heavens, and Ootah turned to check on the condition of his dogs.

He had built a windbreak for his team on the opposite side of the igloo. Though the drifting snow made finding this protective barrier difficult, he was thankful to find it still standing. He brushed away the loose snow and found his team of seven huskies gathered in a tight embryonic ball. First to open his eyes and spot the gawking human was Arnuk, Ootah’s lead dog. This would be Arnuk’s twelfth winter, and though getting old in years, he was still the dominant member of the pack.

Quick to his feet, Arnuk howled in delight and moved over to playfully nuzzle his master. As the others awakened and shook the loose snow off their backs, Ootah walked over to the igloo, where a large, hollowed-out block of ice protected their cache of walrus meat. Cutting off several large chunks of frozen flesh from the hind quarter, he proceeded to feed his faithful pack. For they needed strength just like humans did, and when meat was available, all was shared equally.

While his dogs gratefully consumed their morning meal, Ootah turned his attention to the new sled that he had been working on when the storm arrived two days ago. He brushed away powdery snow, and found it behind the same barrier that had sheltered his dogs.

Only a few days’ work need be done on it before it was ready to hit the ice.

He had designed it to carry his ailing father.

Though Nakusiak hated to admit it, his illness had greatly sapped his once-formidable strength, and it was a struggle for him merely to stand, let alone keep up with them when they were on the move to new hunting grounds. Built much like the sleds of their ancestors, its runners were formed from frozen char that had been split and tightly wrapped in soaked caribou hides. Walrus tusks and whalebones comprised the body, on which a caribou hide would soon be stretched to hold Nakusiak.

Ootah’s current job was to make the runners as smooth as possible. He did so by chewing up large mouthfuls of snow and then spraying this liquid onto the existing runners. He was well into this tedious task, when a deep voice boomed out from behind.

“Well my son, you’re certainly up early. What demon could possibly have pulled you away from the warm body of your comely wife?”