The Pole (19 page)

“What is it?”

I spun around and jumped into the air and— “Whoa, watch where you're aiming that rifle!” It was George. He had grabbed the end of my rifle and was pushing it away.

“I'm sorry … you startled me!” I exclaimed, feeling embarrassed. “I didn't hear you!”

“I'm sorry I startled
you
,” he said as he took the rifle from my hands. I surrendered it willingly. “You more than startled me when you pointed that rifle at me. I was just checking on you. I saw you leave the igloo.Why are you out here?”

“Just wanted some air … and then the dogs noticed something … I don't know, but I think there's something out there. Maybe a bear, that's why I had the rifle.”

“A bear would be good,” George said.

“It would?”

“If we kill a bear that would be food for two weeks or more for a whole team of dogs.That's like a fully loaded sledge that wouldn't have to be brought out.”

“I hadn't thought of that.”

“You should. Could save a lot of work for some body, maybe for you.”

I was going to answer him when I thought I heard something. I turned my head to the side to try to capture the sound. At the same instant the dogs started to make little whining sounds.They had heard something too. I had to fight the urge to reach over and take my rifle back, but if there was a bear coming it would be better if it was in George's hands.

“Whatever it is, it's coming from that direction,” George said.

He had to be right. Every single dog was standing, facing in the same direction, like little compasses aimed north.

“Here,” George said and handed me the rifle. “I'm going to get Oatah … and my rifle.”

I was glad to have the rifle in my hands and glad that Oatah was going to be joining us, but a bit uneasy about being left alone, even for a minute. I scanned the horizon in the direction the dogs were staring. I couldn't see anything. That was good. At least I guessed that was good. My eyes weren't sharp like the Eskimos', but even I would have seen a polar bear lumbering toward us. Oatah would be here soon. If there was something out there he'd see it. Forget about somebody having eyes like an eagle— what they really needed were eyes like an Eskimo.

One of the dogs yipped and I started again. I was glad I didn't have my finger on the trigger or I might have fired a round into the air accidentally. Another dog joined in and then another and another until all thirty dogs were barking in a very out-of-tune chorus. If George hadn't woken Oatah already he'd be awake now.The dogs continued to bark. It wasn't angry.There was no snarling or growling. It sounded like the noises they made when they were running, encouraging each other, or when they saw another team and were welcoming them. Could that be it? Did they think there was another team?

I focused my gaze on the base of the pressure ridge. I allowed my eyes to follow it along, moving my head slowly to see farther and farther and—I stopped. There was a black mark, almost like a deeper shade or shadow against the darkness of the ridge. I blinked and it was still there. What was it? And more important, was it moving this way? Was it getting bigger? I stood frozen in place, watching.

“Do you see something?” George asked. He and Oatah were standing beside me, rifles in hand.

I turned back toward the spot—I hoped I hadn't lost it. I focused my eyes and there it was. “Out there,” I said, pointing. “Against the pressure ridge.”

“I don't see anything,” George said. “Where is it?” “Right there. Follow my arm with your eyes until your gaze hits the ridge.”

He moved over so he was standing right beside me. He looked, stared into the distance. “I don't see anything. Are you sure there's something out there?”

“Positive, it's right there. I think it's comin' toward us.”

“Komatik and team,” Oatah said.

“It is?” George asked.

He nodded. “One man, one komatik, team of dogs. Danny got good eyes.”

“Thanks,” I said, although my eyes certainly weren't as sharp as his.To me it just looked like a dark shadow.

“You can see all of that?” George asked.

“It is Captain Bob,” he said.

“You can tell it's Cap'n Bartlett?” I exclaimed. Just how good were his eyes?

“Has to be. Coming from there,” he said.

Of course, that only made sense. Seegloo had gone off the other way, so if it was a sledge coming from that direction it would have to be the Captain. It wasn't like we were going to run into strangers travelling across the polar ice.

“I'm going to send out a greeting,” George said. He pointed his rifle up and shot into the air. For a split second the dogs all stopped barking … and then they began again even louder. A few more seconds passed and then there was an answering shot—much softer, but definitely the sound of a gun.

“How far away is he?” I asked.

“Hard to say,” George said. “Distances are so hard to judge out here.”

I looked at Oatah. “How far is he?”

He gave me a confused look and then gestured out in the distance. “That far.”

“I meant, how many miles or …” I figured this probably wouldn't work. “Do I have time to put on some coffee before he comes?”

He nodded his head.

“I'll take care of that,” George said. “I'd like something warm in my stomach myself.”
Oatah stood right beside me and we watched.There was no talking. I'd learned that about the Eskimos. They were friendly and everything but they didn't waste words. If there was nothing to say they didn't say anything.

As we watched the little blob of dark grow in size and shape, the sun rose above the horizon and the scene became bright. I could now clearly see the sledge, team and man.They closed in so I could hear those dogs answering back the calls of the dogs in the camp—which kept getting louder and more excited. Finally I could tell it was Captain Bartlett. I waved and he waved back.The sledge glided into the camp and he came to a stop right beside us.

“Hello, Cap'n, it's good ta see you!” I exclaimed. “Could'a fooled me,” he said. “Were you two planning on shooting me?” he asked, gesturing to the rifles in our hands.

I started to answer when I realized that of course he was joking. “Did you find a way around the ridge?”

He nodded. “The ridge goes on for as far as I could go, at least ten miles, but I did find a place through it. Chopped it out last evenin' before I built my shelter for the night.”

“That's what George said you'd do.”

As we talked, without anybody asking, Oatah had untied the dogs from the sledge and was leading them away, undoubtedly to be fed and watered.

“George is puttin' on coffee,” I said. He was over by the sledges and had started the little Primus stove.

“Coffee will warm my stomach and my soul. Good to see you and Oatah. Good to see George is fine. Has Seegloo returned?”

“Not yet, but we didn't expect ya back this soon. Sun's hardly up.”

“No time to waste.We'll eat an' get the dogs tended to and then George and me have to be off again.”

“And me and Oatah?”

“You wait for Seegloo to return. When he does,

send him along after us. Then the two of you head back.”

“We're goin' back?” I exclaimed. I didn't want to go back, I wanted to go farther and—

“You have to. Those supplies aren't gonna be movin' up by themselves. You'll load up again and follow behind us. If all goes well, you'll catch us in three or four days.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

MY SLEDGE WAS EMPTY
except for a change of clothing and my rifle. Oatah had a skin tent, his rifle, and one day's supply of food for us and the dogs.The rest had been left behind at the second igloo. It was amazing how fast we were moving now that the sledges weren't weighed down. Not only were we moving fast but I could mostly ride along, pushing with one foot, and we could still make good time.

It seemed as though the dogs were excited about heading back. Me, I was feeling sort of mixed up inside about the whole thing. It would be good to sleep back on land and not worry about the ground opening up underneath me, but I didn't want to spend any more than one night on land before we headed back out. I didn't want to let the Captain get that much farther ahead of me. It would also be tough to be moving a fully loaded sledge again after this trip, but that was the price I'd have to pay to come back.

Oatah was, of course, leading the way, so I wasn't paying any attention to the route. I'd seen one marker—almost by accident—but nothing else. I knew we were on course, but still, it would have been reassuring to see another marker or two. Or to reach the first igloo. That would mark time and distance. It would also mean that if a storm did come—and there was no sign on the horizon—we'd have a ready-built shelter and enough supplies to last for days and days.

Of course there was one other thing that might happen before we reached the igloo—we could meet with another party heading out onto the ice. I wanted to meet another party, but I had a competition going on in my mind: I wanted to get to the first igloo before they got there coming from the other direction. It was a race—a race where I was the only one who was aware that it was happening.

I jumped off the runners and started running behind the sledge. I yelled for the dogs and they responded instantly.We began to move up. I got the feeling that Lightning wasn't ever happy being behind another team and wanted to get in front of those other dogs.We started to pull up, closer and closer, and then Oatah's team started running faster and pulled away again. Oatah hadn't given them the command to pick up the pace, it was just that their lead dog didn't want to be beaten either.

That was all right. As long as we were moving faster, I was happy.

WE GLIDED TO A STOP
beside the igloo. I hadn't noticed it until we were practically right there, but I was so glad to see it. It was almost noon. We'd been moving for almost five hours and I was hungry and thirsty and tired.We could eat and also feed and water and rest the dogs.

Almost the instant that the sledges came to a stop Oatah was undoing the canvas to get out the food. Not the food for us, but for the dogs.The dogs always came first.That struck me as a little strange, if you considered that if there wasn't any food for us the dogs might
become
food. Then again, maybe that made perfect sense.You wanted them to be in good shape if you ever had to eat them. I knew that wasn't the reason. The dogs weren't just transportation. They were survival. Without them the Eskimos couldn't hunt.

The dogs were settled into the snow and eagerly awaiting their meal. Oatah tossed the first piece to his lead dog and then the second to Lightning. I grabbed other pieces and soon all the dogs were happily chewing. He then broke out some jerky and some pemmican for us. Oatah crouched down and I sat on the snow beside him.

I looked at the igloo.The entrance had been sealed up with snow.That was to keep the smells in and the
polar bears and Arctic foxes out. If we needed anything we'd have to dig the tunnel out again. But we weren't going to do that.We would be back at the camp within three or four hours—maybe less— because we were going to be carrying almost nothing and the dogs would all be running at top speed.

Oatah abruptly rose to his feet and pointed into the distance. I scrambled up as well, wondering what he'd seen. I'd taken a step toward the sledge to get my rifle when I heard something and turned around. It was faint, but I could hear it.The distant sound of dogs, barking and baying, carried by the wind.

I let my eyes trail out away from where we stood in the direction we would be travelling. It had to be coming from there. Slowly, Eskimo style, I let my eyes trail the path and—there it was! There were teams … one … two … three teams moving toward us … no wait, there was a fourth team, well behind the others. I wondered who was there. I wondered who it was that we'd beaten to the igloo.

I still wanted to go and get the rifle. Not to protect us, but to fire a welcoming shot into the air. But I didn't. Instead I took a bite of the jerky. Whether they were coming or not, I was still hungry.The jerky was tough and salty but tasted good. That probably said more about how hungry I was than how delicious it actually was. These past few days everything tasted good—even pemmican—and I couldn't seem
to get enough. I was always hungry. I guess that made sense. It wasn't just that I was working so hard, running and moving supplies, but also because of the cold. My body needed food to keep warm, the way a house needs extra logs in the furnace in the winter.

It was funny about the cold. After a while you just didn't feel it any more. I knew it was cold—frigid— but you just became numb to it. Maybe it was the way you didn't notice air unless there was a wind, or the way a fish probably wasn't aware of water unless there was a current.

Oatah stood beside me and looked at the incoming sledges.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Ookeah …
Miy Paluk
…”

That was Matt! That could mean only one thing.

“Commander Peary, too?”

Oatah nodded. “And Dr. Goodsell.”

One of our dogs howled and that ignited the others.

Almost instantly there was a chorus of barking, and the teams coming answered back. I'd gotten to like the sound of the animals. I almost wanted to give a howl myself as a way of welcoming the party.

As they closed in I could see that three of the sledges were loaded down with supplies. The fourth—the one piloted by Commander Peary—was much more lightly loaded. Because of his toes—or I guess lack of toes—the Commander had trouble
running along with the team and spent most of his time riding on the runners. He wasn't a little man and his weight meant that the sledge couldn't handle much else. It was strange, he was the leader of the party, the one who decided who should go along, which people were the best sledge drivers, but he was probably the worst of everybody. It wasn't that he didn't know how to drive, or control the dogs, and he could even speak to them in Inuktitut, but it was the way he moved. Or really, didn't move. And because of that he couldn't bring supplies to care for himself and his team. He had to rely on somebody else to take care of his needs.