Ilatsiak - 44
On David went. Now the dogs had been fed, they were content to pull again, but he knew they would want to sleep soon. Hungry dogs are better for pulling than ones with full bellies. As they travelled along the coast the numbness moved into his mind once again and his memories of what he had seen were becoming move and more vague, almost dreamlike. The rocking motion of the sled gradually seduced him asleep. The dogs, unaware of their master’s condition, pulled steadily into the growing darkness of the early evening.
Perhaps it was the silence or the lack of motion on the sled that eventually woke David. The dogs, scattered in a fan ahead of the twin runners, were only little white mounds, their bodies slowly being buried by the snow that was quietly falling around them. As he looked around trying to locate himself in the vasteness of this land, David thought of his far-away home and how this place was so different from those rocky heath-covered hills which surrounded Stromness where he had roamed as a child. How had he come to this place? It was so flat, so endless, so opposite in appearance from his homeland on the Orkney islands where it was so easy to place oneself between sea and hilltop. Here both the land and the sea stretched without change in every direction, so few places more predominant than the other. Here there were so few signs of man’s presence. He missed the signs of man’s habitation which led into the distant past, the stone monuments and dwellings. In this land all seemed empty. Only the occasional ring of stones hinted of an campsite. There were no permanent dwellings or monuments except for the few ‘inukshuit’ or signposts he had seen.
He felt his heart grab hold and tighten in his chest, a lonely, gripping pain. He let his eyes fill up with tears. They began to run down his face and freeze on his cheeks before they could drip off. His face in his hands, he sobbed alone into the endless snow and the wretched ice and the unrelenting whiteness. Even the dogs in their white snowy mounds, slept on uncaring, unknowing. Overhead the drab, snow-filled clouds drifted steadily eastward, intent only on their passing. It seemed they too wished to depart from this lonely place.
David’s mind wouldn’t let go. Again and again he plunged into the horrific scenes he had been running from. Screaming for the searing images to end, he jumped from the sled and not caring where, he began to run along the wind sculpted snow drifts ahead of the sled towards a slight ridge behind the shoreline ahead. Such stupid ridges, so unridge-like it was a mockery to call them that. Not like the bold ridges of home. These were nothing; only cruel, ungrateful killer ridges which offered no protection or shelter to any man. Then he tripped against a dark lump on the nearly bare gravel and fell flat against it, his sealskin boots offering no traction on the slippery surface. Scrambling to his feet the lump took shape. It was a man’s body. It was Thomas Evans, his counterpart on the Terror, frozen stiff, dead where he had dropped, exhausted. David stared at the body, wondering why he was out here so far from a camp. He reached down and picked up a watch and then saw that it was on a chain around Thomas’s neck. A watch? Why did he have a watch? He dropped it into the snow. David ceased to care.
The stirring of the dogs, still in their traces, and their yelping confusion as they tried to follow him brought David’s thoughts to a halt. As he turned to them he realised for the first time he had been yelling and screaming. He stood and blankly stared at the approaching dogs, Agayuq’s dogs. There was nothing left for him now but to go back to his camp where perhaps he might stay until a rescue party arrived. Or perhaps, in the Spring, Agayuq could take him to Repulse Bay, but somehow now that seemed to be so far away, so useless a trip, even for a good hunter like Agayuq. It was over, for some reason the expedition members were dying. David began to realise that the rumours he had half heard were probably true, perhaps more true than he had believed they were. If he wasn’t already alone, it was certain that he would probably soon be all alone, the only member of the two crews still alive. It seemed very possible that everyone else was dead or would be very soon if what he had seen was typical of the state the expedition members were in. He sat down on the sled. The movement stirred the dogs who suddenly jerked the sled forward. He halted them at the body and rolled Evans onto the sled and then buried him in the snow when he reached the shore where it was deep enough for cover the body. Realizing it would have no need of such a thing, he left the watch with the boy.
How many more would he come across before he made it home? David just sat as if frozen himself and stared at the ground as it passed under the runners, mile after mile after mile, letting the dogs take him home. If there were other bodies to be found, he didn’t see them. He had seen too many already.
Perhaps it was the silence or the lack of motion on the sled that eventually woke David. The dogs, scattered in a fan ahead of the twin runners, were only little white mounds, their bodies slowly being buried by the snow that was quietly falling around them. As he looked around trying to locate himself in the vasteness of this land, David thought of his far-away home and how this place was so different from those rocky heath-covered hills which surrounded Stromness where he had roamed as a child. How had he come to this place? It was so flat, so endless, so opposite in appearance from his homeland on the Orkney islands where it was so easy to place oneself between sea and hilltop. Here both the land and the sea stretched without change in every direction, so few places more predominant than the other. Here there were so few signs of man’s presence. He missed the signs of man’s habitation which led into the distant past, the stone monuments and dwellings. In this land all seemed empty. Only the occasional ring of stones hinted of an campsite. There were no permanent dwellings or monuments except for the few ‘inukshuit’ or signposts he had seen.
He felt his heart grab hold and tighten in his chest, a lonely, gripping pain. He let his eyes fill up with tears. They began to run down his face and freeze on his cheeks before they could drip off. His face in his hands, he sobbed alone into the endless snow and the wretched ice and the unrelenting whiteness. Even the dogs in their white snowy mounds, slept on uncaring, unknowing. Overhead the drab, snow-filled clouds drifted steadily eastward, intent only on their passing. It seemed they too wished to depart from this lonely place.
David’s mind wouldn’t let go. Again and again he plunged into the horrific scenes he had been running from. Screaming for the searing images to end, he jumped from the sled and not caring where, he began to run along the wind sculpted snow drifts ahead of the sled towards a slight ridge behind the shoreline ahead. Such stupid ridges, so unridge-like it was a mockery to call them that. Not like the bold ridges of home. These were nothing; only cruel, ungrateful killer ridges which offered no protection or shelter to any man. Then he tripped against a dark lump on the nearly bare gravel and fell flat against it, his sealskin boots offering no traction on the slippery surface. Scrambling to his feet the lump took shape. It was a man’s body. It was Thomas Evans, his counterpart on the Terror, frozen stiff, dead where he had dropped, exhausted. David stared at the body, wondering why he was out here so far from a camp. He reached down and picked up a watch and then saw that it was on a chain around Thomas’s neck. A watch? Why did he have a watch? He dropped it into the snow. David ceased to care.
The stirring of the dogs, still in their traces, and their yelping confusion as they tried to follow him brought David’s thoughts to a halt. As he turned to them he realised for the first time he had been yelling and screaming. He stood and blankly stared at the approaching dogs, Agayuq’s dogs. There was nothing left for him now but to go back to his camp where perhaps he might stay until a rescue party arrived. Or perhaps, in the Spring, Agayuq could take him to Repulse Bay, but somehow now that seemed to be so far away, so useless a trip, even for a good hunter like Agayuq. It was over, for some reason the expedition members were dying. David began to realise that the rumours he had half heard were probably true, perhaps more true than he had believed they were. If he wasn’t already alone, it was certain that he would probably soon be all alone, the only member of the two crews still alive. It seemed very possible that everyone else was dead or would be very soon if what he had seen was typical of the state the expedition members were in. He sat down on the sled. The movement stirred the dogs who suddenly jerked the sled forward. He halted them at the body and rolled Evans onto the sled and then buried him in the snow when he reached the shore where it was deep enough for cover the body. Realizing it would have no need of such a thing, he left the watch with the boy.
How many more would he come across before he made it home? David just sat as if frozen himself and stared at the ground as it passed under the runners, mile after mile after mile, letting the dogs take him home. If there were other bodies to be found, he didn’t see them. He had seen too many already.
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