Читать книгу Kalak of the Ice - Jim Kjelgaard - Страница 4

Table of Contents

Agtuk, Chief of the Endorah Eskimos, was very tired. When yesterday's sun had shone over the ice pack he had started back into the hills to hunt caribou. Since then he had slept not at all, though Toolah and Nalee, the only two hunters who had dared travel with him, had lain on a sunny hill and slumbered. Agtuk was also angry. There were other men back in the village capable of hunting, but instead of getting out and searching for game they preferred to sit in the council house and let Chuesandrin, the devil-driver, tell them why they couldn't get it.

The devil had control, Chuesandrin said, and all the magic he could muster was of no avail because the devil abode among them in the body of Agtuk's favorite dog, Natkus. The devil would not depart, nor would game be plentiful, until Agtuk thrust Chuesandrin's magic knife through Natkus' heart. And most of the tribe believed it.

Agtuk fingered his own knife. He had never killed any man because he considered that the killing of men was not right, but he thought that he would not mind killing Chuesandrin. He knew that the devil-driver had been smoldering for more than two months, ever since Natkus had entered his tent and stolen a choice caribou loin that Chuesandrin's wife was roasting. Agtuk's mouth tightened.

One did not, of course, take even a favorite dog along when one hunted caribou because dogs frightened them. But before leaving the village Agtuk had told Chuesandrin that Natkus had best be present when Agtuk returned. If he were not, Agtuk had said, then Chuesandrin would not be present for very long either. Natkus was not to go into the cooking pots, where so many of the village dogs had already gone, nor was he to be subjected to any of Chuesandrin's devil-driving.

Agtuk had made himself very clear. He did not, he said, believe that Chuesandrin knew any more about devils than anyone else, or even that there was a devil. Agtuk had lived for thirty-nine years among the Endorah. More than once he had seen a scarcity of game, and more than once, even when there had been no devil-driver to lure it back, the game had returned. If Chuesandrin cared to put the issue to a test, then Agtuk would gladly submit. They would see which was the stronger, Chuesandrin's magic or Agtuk's knife. It was time a decision was reached.

As Agtuk squatted on the small hill he had climbed, and thought about these things, he squinted across the treeless country that rolled away from the hill. There was no game in sight, and Agtuk was worried. If they did not find meat soon the whole village would starve. As it was, they had been able to get just enough to maintain strength. Everybody except the children and the old people were hungry most of the time.

Toolah and Nalee came up beside him, laid their spears and their bows and arrows on the ground, and stared down the hill. For a moment no one spoke.

"This is a bad thing," Toolah said.

"It is not good," Agtuk agreed.

"Perhaps," Toolah said thoughtfully, "there really is a devil keeping the game away. Perhaps if you did as Chuesandrin wishes, and killed Natkus with his magic knife—"

"Chuesandrin babbles child's talk for children's ears," Agtuk said sourly.

Toolah did not answer for a moment, and then he said hesitantly, "Perhaps so."

Agtuk said, still sourly, "Those who wish to eat may put their trust in devil-drivers or hunting. Those who hunt will eat."

"We have found nothing to hunt," Nalee pointed out.

"That is so," Agtuk agreed, "but we must continue to search. Since we did not get any caribou we will go out on the ice and try again for seals. If there are no seals, we will look for something else. I shall give a spear to both Toolah and Nalee."

The hunters' leathery faces brightened. Aside from being the best and most skillful hunter, Agtuk was far and away the finest spear-maker in the tribe. It was no small honor to own one of his spears; only the greatest hunters had them, and the prospect of one was sufficient to balance Chuesandrin's devils. Nalee and Toolah nodded agreeably. They would continue to hunt with Agtuk.

Agtuk rose. "There is no use in staying here and wasting time. We might as well return to the village and set out on a seal hunt."

They started toward the river where they had left their kayaks. Sweat beaded their foreheads, for the day was hot. With his knife Agtuk opened a worn place in the front of his fawn-skin shirt. Ostensibly the move was calculated to cool his body, but it was also a bold gesture which Nalee and Toolah did not miss. Anyone who became so reckless with caribou-skin garments must be sure that he would get more.

As they mounted a hill, overlooking the willow-lined river, Agtuk sank quickly behind the crest of the rise. Toolah and Nalee, behind him, also crouched down. Agtuk turned to them.

"There are two bull caribou across the river. We must get them!"

"Let us be on, then," Toolah said eagerly.

Agtuk shook his head.

"We cannot hunt as though there are plenty of caribou if we miss these. We must plan carefully."

"No hunting plan is certain," Nalee argued.

"This one must be sure," Agtuk said. "You, Toolah, and you, Nalee, go back to the bottom of the hill and work your way downstream. Be careful that the caribou do not see you and take fright. When you have come to the shallow part, wade across the river and go far enough back so that you are behind the caribou. Then come in, toward the river. If you can, kill both bulls with arrows. If you cannot, drive them so that they will enter the river when they flee. I will be waiting by the willows, and when they are in the water I will try to overtake them in my kayak."

"It is a good plan." Toolah's eyes were filled with admiration.

"A hunter's plan," Nalee agreed. "We go."

The two left, and Agtuk crawled back to the crest of the hill. The two bulls were still feeding on the other side of the river. While they fed, Agtuk crawled carefully down the hill. When the caribou ceased feeding and raised their heads, Agtuk stopped and held himself perfectly motionless. When the caribou resumed their feeding again, Agtuk crawled on. He knew that caribou thought nothing was dangerous unless it was in motion, and they were too far away to smell him.

By slow degrees Agtuk reached the willow-lined river bank, and the kayak he had hidden there. Now there was nothing to do except wait, but Agtuk was a hunter born to hunting. He knew well the value of patience and of doing the right thing at the right time. With his eye Agtuk measured the distance to the kayak and noted the exact location of the paddle. When the time came to act, it would need to be swift action. He would have no time for waste motions.

For an hour, moving only far enough to find the choicest browse, the caribou fed, undisturbed. Then, both bulls raised their heads suddenly and glanced behind them. They made a nervous little start, and ran a few feet. Agtuk saw Nalee rise up and shoot an arrow. But it was hopelessly far shooting, and the arrow fell short. Both bulls started to run.

Agtuk waited, holding his breath. Instead of coming down to the river, the caribou were heading upstream, along the bank. Agtuk muttered to himself. Where was Toolah? If Toolah and Nalee missed, they should at least be in a position to force the bulls into the river.

One of the caribou stopped, whirled, and dashed directly away from the river, toward the low hills. Toolah rose out of the grass, with drawn bow, but his arrow soared over the bull's back. Agtuk muttered again.

Seeing Toolah, the second bull took the opposite direction, raced toward the river, and plunged in.

Agtuk made no move; if he launched his kayak now he might drive the caribou back to the opposite bank. With an expert eye he gauged its progress. The caribou, coming to deep water, stopped splashing and started to swim strongly. It was almost in the center of the river when Agtuk pushed his kayak into the water.

He paddled swiftly, sending the frail craft through the water so fast that a trailing wake curled from its stern. Seeing him, but still intent upon gaining the shore toward which it had started, the bull swerved upstream. Agtuk drove his paddle deeper, putting into his strokes all the strength of his powerful arms. Slowly he closed the gap between himself and the swimming caribou.

Then, with a rending snap that sounded very loud above the river's placid murmur, his paddle split. The kayak lost headway.

Agtuk threw his spear. It was a long cast, but expertly done. The spear soared in a long arc to bite into the swimming bull's flank.

Agtuk began propelling the kayak forward with what remained of the paddle. He could not go as fast, but the spear had penetrated far enough to impede the swimming bull seriously. For a moment it continued its desperate efforts to fight upstream, then quartered across. It had almost reached the shallows on the side of the river when Agtuk brought his kayak alongside, and flung himself out of it to land squarely astride the swimming bull's back.

The bull's head came up and his antlers snapped back toward the man's ribs. Agtuk wound his left hand in the caribou's hair, crouched as low as he could get on the bull's back, and brought up his knife with his right hand. He thrust it down with a mighty stroke that sent the blade out of sight in the bull's chest. The caribou kicked and thrashed furiously for a moment, but Agtuk's thrust had been sure. In a moment the bull was floating quietly.

As soon as Agtuk had thrown himself on the bull, Toolah and Nalee had started running for the shallow ford across the river. They now came panting up to where they had left their kayaks, howling with delight.

"A caribou!" Toolah yelled. "A bull falls before Agtuk! There will be meat in the cooking pots tonight!"

They launched their own kayaks, retrieved Agtuk's, and helped him secure the bull with a sealskin thong. As they towed it to shore, Toolah drew his knife, made a slash in the air, held the knife to his lips, and grinned broadly. "Agtuk the hunter!" he crowed. "Let Chuesandrin's devils match this!"

They drew the bull up on the bank, and began to dress it.

"The very grandfather of all caribou," Agtuk observed wryly. "Its flesh all but turns my knife blade."

"It is not the tenderest," Nalee agreed, "but it is meat."

Agtuk sliced the raw liver, gave chunks of it to Toolah and Nalee, and they all sat down to eat. Finished, although still hungry, Agtuk stared thoughtfully toward the rolling hills in which the remaining bull had made good his escape. Then he addressed Toolah and Nalee.

"Take the meat down to the village," he directed. "I stay here."

Toolah looked quizzically at him.

"But why?"

"To hunt the bull we did not get," Agtuk said simply. "The village is in need."

"You will be honored for getting this one," Toolah objected.

"Honor," Agtuk observed, "is not enough when my people need food. I stay here."

He picked up an axe, expertly chopped around the dead bull's scalp and lifted the antlers from it. With his knife he cut a long strip of skin and tied one end to the antlers. Then he made a loop in the other end of the thong and slung the antlers over his shoulder. He picked up his bow and arrows, and the spear that had been taken out of the dead bull. Toolah and Nalee waited questioningly. Agtuk took a small chunk of meat for himself and dropped it into his kayak.

"Go!" he urged. "The village is hungry!"

Without looking back he paddled across the river, beached his kayak, and started out on the trail of the bull that had escaped.

The sun beat mercilessly down and Agtuk sweated profusely. The dangling antlers butted his thigh, and he shifted them to the other shoulder. When he had gone half a mile he climbed a hill to look. There was nothing in sight, but he had not really expected anything; frightened caribou ran for very long distances before they even stopped to graze. Agtuk lay down, pillowed his head on a rock, and slept for an hour. Then he patiently took up the dim trail left by the running bull.

He knew where to go partly because of the bull's faint tracks and partly because he knew caribou. There were places where they might be expected to travel and other places which they most certainly would avoid, and anyone who hoped successfully to hunt must be able to guess what his game would do. Agtuk pressed on under the never-setting sun.

A single cloud appeared in the sky, and hung ominously there. Other clouds joined it, and their shadows began to shroud the treeless hills across which the lone bull had trotted. Agtuk started to run along the trail.

The desperate village needed all the food it could get, and he dared not miss this bull if there was a possibility of getting it. However, the wind that keened in from the sea carried cold with it and the clouds meant snow. If snow fell there would be no chance to find the lone bull.

When he could run no longer, Agtuk walked until his spent breath was recovered, then trotted on again. It was the next day when he finally sighted the caribou, grazing in a valley between two hills.

Agtuk knelt in the grass, unslung the caribou antlers, and used the thong with which he had carried them to strap the antlers to his back. Without attempting to conceal himself, he crawled openly down the hill. The bull saw him, raised its head, and resumed grazing. It did not run and showed no sign of fear. Agtuk continued his steady crawl, dragging his bow with one hand. As he came nearer, the caribou stared steadily at him. Then, its short tail high, the bull came forward. Agtuk stopped, and nocked an arrow in his bow.

A sudden blast of wind, the beginning of the storm, roared across the low hills. Blowing from Agtuk to the caribou, it carried man scent to the bull. The caribou whirled and loped away. As it disappeared over the rise, snow started to fall.

Wearily, Agtuk turned and started his long homeward journey.

The village, a collection of skin-covered tents, stood on the shore where the river met the arctic sea. As far out as Agtuk could see, the flowing river had eaten its way into the pack ice, so there was open sea in front of the camp. Farther out, where Kalak and her cub had crossed, the river's ice-cooled water at last flowed ineffectively against more pack ice.

Agtuk beached his kayak, and strode up the bank to greet the woman who waited for him there. Larensa, his capable wife, smiled in return.

"You have returned in good time, Agtuk," she said.

"Empty-handed," he replied grimly. "Is all well in the village?"

"Thanks to the hunting skill of Agtuk, there is some meat."

"And Natkus . . . ?"

A big gray dog with a lithe wolf's body tore across the village. He flung himself upon Agtuk, whimpering and wagging his tail furiously. Larensa watched understandingly. She lived in a harsh land where the only possible means of life lay in hunting. It was good to see the hunter reunited with his dog, for that meant that there would be more hunting and more food. Larensa smiled.

"Natkus has grieved since you left," she said. "He also chased Chuesandrin across the village, and I think he would have bitten him had not Chuesandrin gained the safety of his house."

"Oh," said Agtuk, "and what has the great devil-driver been doing?"

Larensa shook her head dubiously. "He gives all his time to the making of magic, Agtuk. He has become even more bitter toward Natkus. I think that the evil things stirring in the devil-driver's mind now extend to the master of Natkus."

"How does the village think?"

"Some side with you, since Toolah and Nalee brought in the caribou meat. Some are still afraid of Chuesandrin. I fear there will be bad times."

Agtuk said shortly, "I go to see Chuesandrin."

With Natkus at his heels he strode across the village to the devil-driver's tent, and went in without announcing his presence.

Chuesandrin, who had blackened his face, was bending over a seal-oil lamp from which yellow flame rose. Without looking up, the devil-driver passed his hand over the flame. It turned red, then turned pure white. Still Chuesandrin did not look up. Agtuk watched calmly.

"You are wasting your talents upon me, Chuesandrin. I know all about the stones and dust you may gather, that will make a lamp burn almost any color you wish when you conceal some in the palm of your hand and drop it in."

Natkus pushed in beside Agtuk, and growled softly. Chuesandrin glanced up. His eyes were fanatically alight, his voice was a harsh whisper.

"The dog!" he croaked. "The dog in which the devil lives!" He extended a knife. "Thrust it in the dog now and kill the devil! There will be no game until you do!"

Agtuk spoke harshly. "I am tired, Chuesandrin, for I have been hunting while you have been here frightening villagers who are already frightened enough. I do not mind your making magic, for our people have always had devil-drivers among them. But I do think it is time you foresaw the return of game, and thus put heart in the hunters to get out and work for themselves!"

"There will be no game!" the devil-driver said. "There will be none until you kill the devil in your dog!"

Agtuk said contemptuously, "I heard that Natkus tried to bite you, Chuesandrin. It is too bad that he did not succeed, for had Natkus eaten a good meal of devil-driver I would not have to feed him other meat. I go now, but I leave you with the hope that you change both your ways and your devil-driving. There would be enough food for all if enough hunters looked for it."

With Natkus behind him, Agtuk swung on his heel and left the devil-driver's tent. Coming toward him were Toolah and Nalee, flanked by four other men. Toolah spoke happily.

"Nalee and I have been to your lodge, Agtuk. True to your promise, Larensa gave each of us a hunting spear made by you. Here are others who are now willing to hunt."

"It is not that we wish to offend Chuesandrin," a stocky hunter said hesitantly. "It is just that Toolah and Nalee came to no harm by hunting with you. We will hunt if you will promise to give us spears, too."

Agtuk reflected. If sufficient hunters went out, enough food might be had. And if he had not sufficient spears to give a weapon to everyone who helped bring game down, he could make some more. If the magic of owning a spear made by Agtuk counteracted the magic Chuesandrin brewed in his devil-driver's tent . . .

"It is good," Agtuk said. "We will hunt, then. And now is the time to start! Look!"

His glance had strayed out across the open water. Far out, so far that it was seen only faintly, a spout of water ascended toward the sky and fell back. The spout appeared again.

"Whale!" Agtuk shouted. "Be quick!"

Agtuk ran to his tent and snatched up his seven-foot whaling harpoon and his twelve-foot lance. The harpoon had a slate head, to which was attached a sixty-foot walrus-hide line. On the end of the line were three floats, each made by inflating the skin of an entire seal.

Carrying his whaling gear, Agtuk ran down to the beach where an oomiak, a large boat covered with walrus hide, was always ready to launch. Toolah, Nalee, and the other four hunters appeared, each carrying similar weapons. They launched the oomiak, caught up paddles, and sent the big boat skimming lightly over the calm sea. Agtuk, in the bow, rested his harpoon in the built-in ivory launching crotch.

But the sea upon which the whale had been sighted was now calm and deserted. The paddlers swung the oomiak and quartered to cover that section which they had not yet been over. They came to the pack ice, so far out that no land was visible, and started back.

Suddenly, completely without warning, the whale came up within a few feet of the oomiak.

It was an old whale, a great forbidding monster more than sixty-five feet long from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail. The whale moved sluggishly, and sent up another water spout whose spray blew down over the oomiak from high in the air.

Agtuk hurled his weapon, and saw the harpoon's head bury itself in the whale's thick hide. As the sluggish monster sounded, the shaft tore loose from the harpoon's head and floated free. The whaling line played over the oomiak's edge so fast that a little column of smoke rose, and the floats followed the sounding whale out of sight.

Toolah passed his harpoon to Agtuk, who rested it in the launching fork while the hunters waited tensely. A whale was a great creature from which tons of meat could be cut. If they were able to get this one, then the village would have plenty of food, and oil and blubber for their lamps. Agtuk's would be a village of plenty.

The hunters waited for the floats on the whaling line to bring the monster back to the surface. When he came, another harpoon with more floats would be hurled. Eventually, with the floats holding him back, the whale would be unable to submerge. Then he could be dispatched at close quarters with the razor-sharp lances.

"There he is!"

The eager cry broke from Nalee. Two hundred yards to the left, the sealskin floats bobbed to the surface. Swinging their oomiak, the paddlers worked so furiously that the bow of their craft was lifted out of the water. Agtuk made ready to hurl another harpoon.

Then, as one man, the paddlers ceased paddling and a disappointed groan arose.

The tough whaling line had broken, and the floats were bobbing freely on the arctic sea. Agtuk reached out to pick them up on the end of his lance, and lifted them into the boat without a word.

As they turned back toward shore, Agtuk pondered. When food was scarce it was bad enough to lose a caribou. Losing a whale, enough food to last everyone for months, was indeed a crushing blow. But that was not all. Chuesandrin wished to be master of the village. If he could convince the villagers that devils had anything to do with losing the whale, now was an excellent chance for him to depose Agtuk.

When the oomiak came near, most of the waiting villagers who had crowded the shore to see what the hunters would bring drifted dejectedly back into the village. Only a small group of women, the wives of the hunters who had gone out, remained.

"Ill fortune?" Larensa asked.

"The line broke," Agtuk grunted, as he stepped out of the oomiak.

"Chuesandrin said he knew that you would not get it!" one of the wives said bitterly. "He said the devil in Natkus would prevent your getting anything as great as a whale!"

For a moment Agtuk stood thoughtfully, digesting this information. It was as he had feared. Suddenly he swung on Nalee.

"Tell everyone," he directed, "that I wish to address the village."

Agtuk took his place before the assembled men, women, and children. Even the dogs gathered on the outskirts of the crowd, sensing the excitement. Natkus came to stand by his master's side.

Agtuk looked at Chuesandrin, glowering by himself, and began to speak.

"All of us are hungry and there is not enough food. There will not be enough here. Toolah, Nalee, and I hunted long and hard for one caribou. We must have more. Since the game will not come to us, we must go to the game. We must move."

"Madness!" croaked Chuesandrin. "He talks madness! The devil is keeping the game away, the devil in Agtuk's dog."

Agtuk glanced at Chuesandrin, then continued. "Will you listen to the devil-driver or to a hunter? The game has not disappeared as sea fog melts away! It is merely elsewhere. We must go there. I know a place where there is always game. Let us move to the Bay of Seals!"

"Great madness!" Chuesandrin shrieked. "He knows not whereof he speaks! The Bay of Seals is the abode of many terrible devils!"

"Chuesandrin!" Agtuk replied evenly, "I challenge your power! If you have, as you say you have, any control over devils, then show it now! Have your devils strike me!"

There was a moment of awed silence, while all eyes turned toward Chuesandrin. "If I summoned a devil, Agtuk," he replied, "he would not strike only you. He would strike all."

"Then let him strike all!"

"No! No!" cried several voices.

"You can't!" Agtuk said contemptuously. "What hunters will go with me to the Bay of Seals? Who does not fear?"

Larensa pushed her way through the crowd.

"I will go!" she said clearly. "I am only a woman, but I will go with Agtuk! Will the men of the Endorah dare go where a woman does?"

"I'll go," Nalee called.

"And I," said Toolah. "With my own eyes I saw Agtuk attack a swimming caribou bull and kill it with his knife. I will follow a hunter who can do that!"

"Who else?" Agtuk called. "Who wishes to go with Agtuk and feast, and who prefers to stay with Chuesandrin and starve?"

There was muttering among the villagers as those who wanted to go with Agtuk and those who lived in fear of Chuesandrin's devils argued among themselves. Agtuk waited. Most of the men had swung to his side. Those who had not would follow. Even Chuesandrin would rather sink his teeth into fat seal blubber than remain here and starve. Agtuk had won.

"You, Toolah and Nalee," he ordered, "select five good men to go with us. We shall set out at once, taking our hunting gear and a dog for each man. The rest will follow, and set up our village on the shore of the Bay of Seals."