14 Arctic Adventure

by Willard Price

  Then a mukluk hove into sight. The bearded seal was known to be a noisy fellow. ‘Chuck-chuck-chuck’ was his song, but sung so loudly that he could be heard plainly through the water. He came close and squinted with weak eyes at these curious creatures who had invaded his territory.

  Hal at once threw a loop of rawhide rope over the big fellow’s head. He and Roger began towing the monster to the open break in the ice.

  They soon found that they were as weak as cats when it came to towing an 800-pound monster.

  Instead of them towing him, he was towing them. His great fins were like broad paddles, and with very little effort he could pull these two-legged beasts far away under the ice.

  The bear! Nanook could help. Roger searched for him. His large pet had disappeared. Roger looked up, and there was the bear at the surface getting a breath of air.

  Of course Nanook had no scuba. He must go up to the surface for air. But why did it happen just now when he was so badly needed?

  He came at last, peering about for his friends. Then he saw them far away and deep down, at the mercy of the big seal.

  Nanook sank to join them, and was he welcome! Roger put the end of the line between the bear’s teeth. It grew taut and the surprised mukluk paddled in vain. The boys swam toward the open water lane, and the 1,000-pound bear had no trouble in towing the bearded seal, whose whiskers trembled with astonishment as he was pulled into the water lane where the men waited at the edge of the ice.

  He kept chuck-chuck-chucking as he was lifted up on to the ice and then slid up a ramp on to the truck.

  ‘Great,’ shouted Olrik. ‘You did a fine job.’

  ‘We didn’t do it,’ Hal said.

  ‘Then who did?’

  ‘Our four-footed giant. Without him the whole thing would have been a flop.’

  ‘Well, jump on the truck and we’ll go to town.’

  ‘Not quite yet,’ said Hal. ‘We saw something else that may have been the oogjook you were talking about. We’ll go back down and try to get it.’

  So they went down, and saw to it that their bear went with them. They knew now that they could do nothing without him.

  What they had seen before was still there. It did look as if it weighed as much as five men, and it squirmed, wriggled and twisted in a crazy dance.

  They lassoed it and gave the end of the rope to their big pet. He dutifully hauled it, still wriggling, to the waiting men, who put it on the truck and tied it down. The bag of smaller seals was also loaded.

  ‘Where to?’ Olrik asked.

  ‘To the Thule air base,’ Hal said. ‘We’ll charter one of those flying box-cars, I think you call it a sky-van, and we’ll send it off tonight to our animal farm near New York. I’ll telegraph Dad right now to watch for it.’

  He wired his father:

  SENDING YOU TONIGHT BY SKYVAN HARP SEAL, RINGED SEAL, HOODED SEAL, HUGE BEARDED SEAL, AND AN OOGJOOK —DON’T LAUGH—THEY WILL ARRIVE AT YOUR PLACE TOMORROW MORNING. ALSO HAVE POLAR BEAR, BUT WILL KEEP HIM AWHILE. WE NEED HIM

  LOVE, HAL

  ‘There’s one thing I don’t understand,’ Roger said after they had returned to their igloo. ‘Won’t those seals die because there’s no water in that plane?’

  ‘They’ll be all right,’ Hal said. ‘Long, long ago seals were land animals. In a way they still are. They have no gills like a fish to get oxygen from the water. They have to come up to breathe. They took to the sea because they could find food there. But they no sooner eat than they pop out of the sea. You remember Glacier Bay, Alaska?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘What did you see there?’

  ‘Hundreds of seals, each one sitting on a floating block of ice.’

  ‘Exactly. They liked to spend most of their time out of the water. And you remember the great rocks offshore along the Oregon coast. What did you see there?

  Roger answered, ‘We didn’t actually see the rocks at all, because they were completely covered with seals.’

  ‘Right. They like to leave the sea, except when they are hungry. So you don’t need to worry about their one night in the sky van. When they get to the farm they can use the lake if they want to because there are fish in it. But when we get home I’ll bet we find them perched on the rocks, enjoying the fresh air.

  Chapter 4

  Zeb - the Smart Guy

  The hole in the roof made by the great bear had been mended. Now Hal, Roger and Olrik sat in the warm snow house, chatting comfortably.

  ‘By the way,’ said Hal, ‘where did you learn English?’

  The Eskimo answered, ‘In your country. I spent two years at Harvard. Later I’ll go again and finish.’

  Hal was astonished. ‘I’ll bet you’re about the only Eskimo who has studied abroad.’

  Olrik smiled. ‘Many of our people have gone to England or America to study. Especially they want to learn English.’

  ‘Why English?’

  ‘So they can get a job when they come back. Did you realize that we have six thousand Americans and English in Greenland? They run most of the industries here and the two big airports — one at Thule and one at Sondre Stromfjord. If an Eskimo wants a job he’ll be more likely to get it if he can speak English.’

  ‘But Denmark owns Greenland. Aren’t there a lot of Danes here?’

  ‘Yes—and they’re fine people —but they don’t have the technical skill of the British and the Yanks.’

  ‘I heard,’ said a rough-looking fellow who had just come in. ‘You’re right. We’re the smart ones.

  You Eskimos are the dumbest people on earth. And I mean you.’

  He was looking straight at Olrik. Olrik said nothing.

  Hal objected. ‘Hold your horses, Zeb. They told me your name. You were here with the men who helped after the big bear bust our roof. And I recollect that you stood behind and did nothing.’

  ‘Why should I mix with a pack of Eskimos?’ blurted Zeb. ‘I keep better company than those ignorant blokes.’ Again he stared at Olrik.

  ‘What was your college?’ Hal asked.

  ‘College of hard knocks.’

  ‘Do you know,’ said Hal, ‘that you’re insulting a Harvard man?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘A man who has studied at Harvard.’

  ‘Don’t know any jerk town named Harbard. Me — I’m from New York—biggest city in the world. And I’ve come here to get my pay.’

  ‘Pay for what?’

  ‘Helping save your silly snow house.’

  ‘You didn’t turn a finger to save anything. The Eskimos helped —just to be friendly —and they wouldn’t take a cent. But I’ll pay you to get rid of you.’ He pulled out a five-dollar bill and slapped it into Zeb’s hand.

  ‘Five dollars,’ grunted Zeb. ‘It ought to be fifty.’

  ‘I’ll give you fifty —fifty punches —if you don’t get out.’ Soft-spoken Hal was really losing his temper.

  Zeb went out with a final threat. ‘I’ll see you again —you four-flusher.’

  There was a shot. Hal was out at once. Nanook, who had been sleeping in the lee of the igloo, was on his feet growling. The rascal had tried to kill their pet bear. Hal and Roger felt Nanook’s hide. There was only a scratch near the neck.

  Zeb was gone. He was so poor a shot that even a target as huge as a 1,000-pound bear had lost only a few hairs.

  Chapter 5

  Who Cares about a Caribou?

  The boys cared when one day a caribou came sliding down the hill behind the igloo, broke the wall, and fell in.

  A caribou in the house! That was just too much.

  Was it bad luck or good luck? Dad had asked the boys to get a caribou. And now one had been delivered to them.

  The caribou belongs to the deer family. He is sometimes called the northern deer. But he differs from the deer we are used to. He doesn’t have lovely brown eyes, and he’s not gentle and friendly.

  This one began thrashing about wildly. For some reason, he didn’t feel at home in
an igloo. His magnificent antlers ploughed into the kettle, the lamps, the pans, the dishes, and sent them all flying.

  ‘Let’s get out of here, quick,’ said Hal.

  They got out, but not before they learned that the sharp horns of the caribou don’t feel too good when they penetrate tender parts of the human body.

  To the caribou this was not a home but a prison which he would tear to bits. He was dangerous at both ends —he had his horns in front and his heels behind.

  The caribou is famous for his kick. It can kill, and has killed many interfering animals including the two-legged kind that call themselves men.

  ‘He’ll rip the igloo to pieces,’ Hal said.

  He was not exaggerating. The horns were tearing down the snow blocks on one side of the igloo and those terrible heels were turning the other wall into snow-dust.

  The noise of clashing pots and pans brought Eskimos to see what was going on. Among them was Olrik.

  ‘Why did you put him in the igloo?’ Olrik wanted to know.

  ‘We didn’t invite him,’ Hal said. ‘He invited himself. What do you do in a case like this?’

  ‘Darned if I know,’ said Olrik. ‘That’s one thing Harvard didn’t teach us.’

  Zeb arrived. He knew just what to do. He sneaked in over the fallen blocks of snow and grabbed the caribou’s stubby tail. At once the beast kicked Zeb in the stomach and sent him soaring ten feet away to land on a sharp rock. Zeb bent double, clutching his midriff and whimpering like a baby. He complained to Hal.

  ‘You’ve got to pay me for this.’

  The fellow always wanted money for doing nothing.

  Hal didn’t answer. He couldn’t waste time on a crybaby.

  The igloo was now completely ruined. The caribou plunged out straight for the boys. Hal seized the horns and was lifted eight feet off the ground. Down he came but he still hung on. There were plenty of horns to go round, so Olrik and Roger took hold and brought the animal to a standstill.

  Zeb, holding his stomach with one hand and a whip in the other, said, ‘I’ll teach the brute.’

  As the whip came down Roger caught it and pulled it out of Zeb’s hand.

  ‘You interfering upstart,’ Zeb cried. ‘What do you know about wild beasts?’

  ‘Not much,’ Roger said. ‘But I know a whip is no good if you want to calm down a terrified animal.’

  Still holding a horn with one hand he used his other hand to stroke the neck of the excited animal and he spoke sweet nothings into a big ear. He kept this up for a good ten minutes, stroking, speaking softly.

  It was the old Roger magic. The animal had given up struggling. His eyes were fixed upon the boy. After all, he was just a boy and not worth killing. And he didn’t seem to mean any harm.

  It was lucky for Roger that it is not difficult to tame a caribou. Thousands of them have been tamed by the Eskimos of northern Canada and Greenland. They have been harnessed and can pull a plough or a wagon as well as any horse or ox. In fact they are much better than an ox. One caribou can draw a sledge with two men on it at a speed of up to eighteen miles an hour. To become tame, all they need is a little understanding.

  Roger noticed that the caribou’s feet were as big as soup plates.

  ‘That’s so he can walk on snow without sinking in,’ Olrik said.

  ‘What’s that funny flat bone that looks like a shovel just above his upper lip?’ Roger asked.

  Olrik replied, ‘That’s exactly what it is —a shovel. He uses it to push the snow out of his way so he can get at the lichen underneath. For most of the year lichen is his only food.’

  ‘What is lichen?’

  ‘It’s something that will grow where nothing else will grow. It doesn’t even have to have soil. It will grow on rocks. It’s sometimes called reindeer moss because it’s a little like moss, and all members of the deer family including the caribou consider it a good food. It keeps on growing even under snow. It never grows large, not over a few inches. Some Eskimos eat it —I’ve eaten it myself. It’s not half bad.’

  ‘Dad told us to get one of these caribou,’ Hal reminded his brother. ‘He said it was the best friend of the Eskimos. It gives them most everything they need. Their warmest blankets are caribou hide, and their shoes can be made of it because it’s strong. Its blood makes a good soup. They cut open the stomach to get the moss —they think it’s as lovely as cake. The caribou provides them with meat, cheese, clothes, tents, buckets and bedding. In northern Canada the caribou have been the chief support of Eskimos for thousands of years. Clothes made from caribou hide are as warm as toast. You’ve got this one feeling pretty good, so I think it’s time to take it to the airport.’

  The great animal, nine hundred pounds of bone and muscle, was led by the horns a mile to the airfield, where it was placed in a box-car. After a few more animals were added the box-car would be mounted on an airplane, which would then be called a skyvan and would take off on a night flight to Long Island.

  Chapter 6

  Terrible Journey

  The two Yanks and Olrik looked at the ruins of the snow house that Hal had so carefully built.

  There was not one block of snow standing on another. The caribou had done a thorough job.

  ‘Are you going to rebuild?’ Olrik asked.

  ‘After we come back,’ said Hal. This was a surprise to Roger.

  ‘Are we going somewhere?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about making a trip,’ Hal said. ‘Up on the ice cap. Now is a good time to do it. Tonight we’ll just sleep out in the open in our nice, warm, caribou-hide sleeping bags. Tomorrow we’ll lure ten dogs and a sledge and take off.’

  ‘You don’t need to hire anything,’ said Olrik. ‘You can use mine. Provided you let me go along with you.’

  ‘We’d like nothing better than to have you with US,’ said Hal. ‘Of course we’ll pay you.’

  ‘Of course you won’t,’ said Olrik. ‘We Eskimos don’t do things that way. Friends don’t pay each other.’

  Hal saw there was no use in arguing. He knew Eskimo custom. If your friend did something for you, you would do something for him. Hal already had an idea of what he would do for Olrik and his parents.

  He would build them a stone house so solid that nothing could pull it down. This Eskimo’s family now lived in an igloo. Hal had seen stone houses in Thule. The chinks between the stones were filled with mud which froze solid and kept out the cold. The roof was made of the skins of wild animals all sewn together, and sod completely covered the skins. This layer of earth was about three inches thick and froze almost as hard as ice. In summer it thawed a little, just enough for grass and flowers to grow in it. And what you really had was a roof garden above your head.

  But he wouldn’t breathe a word of this to Olrik until it was almost time for them to leave Greenland.

  During the night snow fell, but the boys were snug in their furry bags and drew the flaps over their heads. In the morning they were practically buried under four inches of snow. Olrik couldn’t find them at first. He saw two mounds and cleared them away only to find large rocks. Then at a little distance he saw the snow move as if it were alive. He cleared it away as best he could and discovered two very lively and hungry boys.

  They heard a yapping sound that told them the dogs and sledge were already there.

  ‘The huskies are ready to go,’ said Olrik.

  ‘Why are they called huskies?’ Roger asked.

  Olrik explained. ‘A husky man is one who is big and strong. So they call these dogs huskies because they are big and strong.’

  They kicked off the snow that covered their supplies and had a quick breakfast. Then they loaded the sledge with all that they would need, mainly food.

  Also they put on crates and cages for the animals they expected to find.

  ‘Where do we sit?’ Roger wanted to know.

  Olrik grinned. ‘You don’t sit. You walk. Unless you get sick. In that case, you ride. But you can’t expect the huskies to go
so fast if they have to haul a big fellow like you.’

  The harness for the dogs was made of strips of walrus hide. The huskies looked powerful. Every one of them weighed ninety pounds or more. Olrik said they were the finest in Greenland. They looked a little more wolflike than most dogs.

  The sledge was four feet wide. The runners were the long jawbones of the Greenland whale. Roger admired them. He saw the bottom of each one was covered with ice.

  ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘I made it happen.’ said Olrik.

  ‘How?’

  ‘You turn the sledge upside down. Then you pour water on the bottom of each runner. It quickly turns to ice. The well-iced runners glide smoothly over ice or snow.’

  ‘Do the huskies have to be fed three times a day?’

  ‘Not on your life,’ laughed Olrik. ‘They are fed only once every two days.’

  ‘But don’t they get hungry?’

  ‘They do. And it’s when they’re hungry that they run fast. If they are stuffed with food they slow down.’

  ‘But how can we walk or run without sinking into the snow?’

  ‘I saw you had skis. I have a pair also. We’ll put them on and then we can get along as fast as the huskies do.’

  ‘How quiet your dogs are. Even when they bark it’s hardly a bark.’

  ‘No,’ said Olrik. ‘They have only two ways of speaking. One is a growl, and the other is a howl.’

  ‘A howl,’ said Roger. ‘That’s what wolves do.’

  ‘Right. And I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a bit of wolf in every one of these huskies. That doesn’t mean that they like wolves. They’re deathly afraid of them. Wolves killed seven of my dogs —killed them and ate them.’

  ‘I hope we don’t meet any wolves,’ said Roger earnestly.

  ‘We probably will. But we won’t worry about that now. Are you ready to go? Better wear your skis. I have mine here. Then we won’t stumble along so badly in the snow.’