“Are they easier to build?” asked Ben.
Amaguq grinned. “Much easier. You just dig. With the entrance away from the wind if possible â and you mustn't forget to make an air hole.”
This was all very interesting, thought Zoe, but it wasn't getting them any closer to finding out where the bear had been killed. The whole purpose of coming out here was to find someone who knew Lukie's story.
“That's fantastic,” she said, as the old man finished speaking. “Maybe we can put it in our project. We're studying this area,” she explained. “And you might be able to help us with something. We'd like to write about Lukie, the fisherman who works here â the one who was attacked by the polar bear.”
“Do you know where it happened, Amaguq?” Ben joined in.
“You'd have to ask Lukie that,” said the old Eskimo.
“We'd love to talk to him,” said Zoe. “But he's not around at the moment.”
“He's sure to be in soon,” the man replied. “He promised to repair one of the old canoes in the whaling display.”
“So he's not out fishing?” asked Ben.
“Not today, there's a snowstorm forecast for later.” Amaguq picked up his knife and began to cut another snow brick.
The children thanked him and retraced their steps towards the Heritage Centre.
“Glad the weather's stopped Lukie going fishing,” said Ben. “Otherwise we might have had to wait ages to speak to him.”
“True,” said Zoe, frowning. “But there's one thing you've forgotten.
We're
the ones who might be out when the snowstorm hits.”
“We'll be all right,” Ben said cheerfully. “We've got our tent.”
They got to the door of the centre.
“Fingers crossed Lukie's arrived,” said Ben. “And that he can remember where the attack happened.”
“I hope he doesn't think it's strange we want to know,” Zoe answered. “We have to be careful what we ask, remember.”
Ben grinned. “Actually I was planning to say, âHi, we work for Wild, which is a top-secret organisation that we mustn't tell you about, and we're off on an undercover mission to â'”
Zoe pushed him into a pile of soft snow that had been cleared from the path. Then she scooted off, giggling, to avoid a volley of snowballs from her brother.
She almost collided with a young man in a bright red snow jacket who was making his way down the path. One of Ben's snowballs hit him on the chest.
Ben ran up, looking sheepish.
“I'm so sorry!” he panted, as the young man brushed off the snow. “I was aiming at my sister.”
“No problem!” The man grinned. He had a round, cheerful face, with brown skin and a shock of black hair under his hood. “I heard there were two kids out here who wanted to know about my encounter with the bear. I guess I've found you â or rather, you've found me! Lukie's the name.”
“I'm Zoe and this is Ben,” said Zoe eagerly. “We read about you on Mr Airut's blog before we came away on holiday.
We'd be very interested to hear about your encounter with the polar bear.”
“If I had a dollar for every time I've been asked to tell this story, I'd be a rich man,” said Lukie, eyes twinkling. “I could give you a tale of great bravery. I could speak of how I tracked down the mighty snow beast and slew it with my bare hands. But in truth I was out ice fishing and suddenly there she was, the length of two kayaks away.”
“What happened?” asked Ben, wide-eyed.
“I had to think very quickly, Ben,” said Lukie. “I knew I had to let her get my scent so that she could identify me as human. Polar bears usually back off then.”
“But she didn't⦔ prompted Zoe.
“She stared hard at me with her deep, dark eyes,” Lukie went on. “And all the time she was baring her teeth and hissing.”
“I've read about that sort of behaviour,” said Ben. “That sounds like one angry bear.”
“I'll never forget it, that's for sure,” said Lukie. “I stood tall and waved my arms to scare her, but it didn't work. She began to move towards me and the next thing she was lowering her head andâ¦CHARGING!”
He roared, making Ben and Zoe jump. They grinned at each other, a little embarrassed.
“I knew I'd never outrun her,” Lukie went on. “There was only one thing I could do. I fumbled for my gun and for a second I thought I was too late. But somehow I managed to get a shot off just as she reared up for the final attack.”
“The blog we read said she was a lactating mother,” said Zoe. “Wasn't that unusual? I mean, for a mother to leave her cubs?”
Lukie thought for a moment. “I guess so,” he replied. “I remember Theo said she was very thin. She must have been desperate for food.”
“So she saw you as a meal,” said Ben.
Lukie nodded. “I was sorry to kill her, but it was either her or me.”
“Did you see any cubs?” Zoe asked anxiously.
“I can see you're an animal lover, Zoe,” said the fisherman. “There was no sign of any cubs. I didn't know then that she was a mother, and I didn't stick around in case there were any more ravenous bears about. I got the carcass back by towing it behind my kayak. I couldn't just leave it there. The Inupiat are allowed to kill polar bears, but according to our law the carcass must be registered with the Fish and Wildlife Service. And we are not allowed to waste a kill. Anyway, Theo heard about it and wanted to have a look first. It was only when he made his examination that I found out she must have had cubs somewhere.” He sighed. “We don't hunt mother bears. We want to keep bear numbers up.”
“Is there a map where you could show us the place it happened?” asked Ben. “You should put a flag or something on there to mark your brave encounter.”
“Follow me,” said Lukie, with a smile. He led them over to one of the maps they had seen outside the entrance to the centre. “This is our latest update of the extent of the ice cover in this area,” he explained. “And I was here.”
To Ben and Zoe's surprise, Lukie did not point to anywhere on the land. Instead his finger went straight to the north side of a large island of ice, separated from Fairwood by a wide channel of water. “I must have been about here on this floe,” he said. “That spur that sticks out to the north. I always find a good supply of cod there.”
“But that's just floating ice!” exclaimed Ben, shocked. “I thought bears built birthing dens on the mainland. What was she doing out there?”
“A few bears make their dens in the snow banks on the ice floes,” said Lukie.
The saleswoman waved at him from the door. “Lukie!” she called. “There's a delivery of guidebooks. I need your muscles!”
Lukie gave them a rueful grin and went off to help.
Ben peered closely at the map. He was memorising the coordinates of the area. Once they were entered into their BUGs, it would make the search much easier.
“This changes everything,” he said. “We've got to reach that ice floe and there's a bit of Arctic Ocean in the way.”
Zoe gazed solemnly out at the bleak stretch of icy water. “This mission's going to be much more dangerous than we thought.”
“This is a cool way to travel!” called Zoe, as they paddled their kayaks across the grey, choppy water, heading for the ice floe. They had their hoods up and goggles on against the cold.
“Certainly would be if you fell in!” said Ben.
As soon as the children had told Erika that they needed to get out on to the floe she'd taken action. She'd hired the kayaks from the visitors' centre with the cover story that they'd be off for two days' exploring. Once out of sight of Fairwood, their “mother” had left them and headed off further along the coast towards the site where the proposed oil drilling would take place.
“These kayaks would be really fast if it wasn't for the ice in the water,” said Zoe, skilfully steering a path through the floating obstacles. “I'm glad we brushed up our canoeing skills during our training week.”
In some places the ice lay in flat pieces looking like a shattered mirror; in others they formed natural ice sculptures which towered above them, glinting in the afternoon sunlight.
Ben slipped his BUG out of his pocket. “Good thing Uncle Stephen thought to give us these special thin gloves.” He laughed. “We'd never manage to hit the right buttons if our fingers were as thick as sausages.” He called up the satellite map. “We're heading in the right direction,” he said. “About another twenty minutes and we'll reach the southern tip of the ice floe. Then we've got the trek across it.”
“Not so much a trek â more a whiz,” said Zoe. “I can't wait to try out my RAT.”
“There's a problem up ahead,” said Ben suddenly. “The satellite picture shows we'll be going into thick fog. It'll be hard to see and much colder.”
Soon they could see a bank of white dense vapour swirling on the surface of the sea in front of them. There didn't seem to be any way around.
“Thank goodness we've got our BUGs to guide us,” said Zoe. “We'd end up going round in circles otherwise.”
They paddled into the thick fog. It was impossible to see much further than the end of the kayak.
“Stay close to me,” called Ben urgently.
Following the northwards course on their BUGs, they made their way blindly through the thick, freezing air. The paddling movement was keeping them warm, but they could feel droplets of ice clinging to their hoods and balaclavas. The only noise was the splash of their oars and the occasional clunking sound as ice blocks clashed together.
“I'll be glad to reach the floe,” said Zoe. She was paddling as close as she could to Ben's side to keep him in sight.
“Me too,” answered Ben. “This is creepy.”
Something dark loomed up in the fog. The children slowed their kayaks.
“What's that?” Zoe whimpered. “It looks like a row of grey people in hoodsâ¦and they're crouched down. I don't like it.”
Now they could hear sounds as if someone was tapping on wood. Zoe back-paddled as fast as she could.