Ilatsiak - 47 - Strangers!

Kayaking was one of David’s favourite activities ever since that first attempt in Greenland about five years ago. Now, almost mid-summer, living with Qayaq’s family, he had actually built his first boat and learned to paddle it properly. It was a boat which differed in many ways from the ones he had seen in Greenland and they people here did not roll them over as he had once seen, still the craft were sleek and fast and used to hunt which David found exciting.
The big lake, not far from the mouth of the Fish River was one of the best places to catch caribou during the summer. It was the practice of the Inuit in the area to collect at favourite crossing spots, and wait for the caribou to appear as they did throughout the summer. Once into the water, it was an easy task to propell their kayaks into the herd and spear the animals. The animals would float and the younger boys would tow the carcasses to shore where they were skinned and the meat butchered. The skins were particularly valuable as the summer advanced, because the hair was just the right length for making clothing suitable for the winter. A double layer would keep a person warm and comfortable and last several years if taken care of properly.
David and Qayak enjoyed this time with her family. To them it was an adventure, a break from the often hard times people had to go through at other times of the year. Now there was food in abundance and more importantly, many kinds of food: fish, caribou, berries, birds and sometimes even musk-ox, which they called omingmait, the bearded ones, could be had easily.
• • •
As he approached the shore, David saw strangers in the little camp. Two men, dressed in skin clothing, but easily recognizable as not Inuit. Their body language was all wrong. He hesitated. Who were these people? Why were they here? Were they ship people looking for him? Had Agayuq not said at some point that he’d heard that all the ship people had died? Had he only imagined that? What was happening?
From the shore people began to wave out to him. “Come to shore,” they began calling. “People have come. “Strange people. You can talk with them.” David moved his kayak into the shallows and carefully stepped out. As he stood up, the two strangers began to smile.
“David! You are still alive...” It was Crozier. David looked at him, bearly able to recognize him or believe he was looking at a man he was certain had died with the others. He looked at the other man standing beside him, but could not place him. His face was sunken in, the eyes blank and expressionless, his beard grey and unwashed. “You remember John Asham, of the Erebus?”
David stared at the man again, but found nothing familiar. “Yes... You could do magic tricks, wasn’t that you?” David knew the name, but not the man in front of him. “But... I thought, I mean. How did you get here? Where have you been? It’s been... so long... years...”
“We could say the same, David. You have been thought dead by many. Many who, God rest them, are now probably dead themselves. Have you see any others?”
“No. You mean the expedition crews? No. No one.” David found the conversation frightening. He didn’t want it to continue, didn’t want to hear about what had happened to the others. He turned to lift the kayak from the water and began moving up the beach towards the tents, then thought better of it. He lowered the boat to the ground again and turned to Crozier. “Why are you here?” he asked directly, something he found uncomfortable and odd to do anymore. It was no longer his custom.
“We heard there were survivors in this area. We are collecting a group to head south, up the river and home.” Crozier motioned to the water and the river which flowed into its southern end.
“But there is no one.” David repeated.
“Come with us and help us out of here. You can talk with these people better than we can. We need your help, David...”
“I can’t go, Sir. How did you get here? You can just keep on going up the river.”
“We want to take the route to Hudson’s Bay. That’s why we need a quide who can speak English. That’s why you need to come.” Crozier was getting insistent. David could see there was desperation building in his tone of voice.
“I don’t know that way.” David looked at him directly, no longer avoiding his eyes. “I could ask people here, but I cannot go with you. It is late, maybe too late to try travelling in that direction. Hudson Bay may be too far.”
Crozier stared back at David. “You must come. You are one of us. What do you mean you cannot come home?”
It was like meeting Fairholm that day several years ago now. Back then it had seemed possible, at least for a while, to think about returning home to England, but David knew when he had said good-by to Pocock and left the sleeping camp that he was home. There would not be a need to return to England. “I am home, sir. This is my home now. These are my people. You can go, but I will stay here.”
“As you wish, but we must leave soon. Unfortunately our boat as been distroyed by these people and we are forced to walk.”
“Distroyed, sir?”
“Yes, we left it to hunt inland for caribou and on our return these idiot people had found it and pulled away much of the planking making it useless. We’vee spent the first part of the summer with some people at the mouth of the river, but are now walking out of here. We need your help getting east...” Crozier repeated.
By this time, the three men, speaking in a strange language had attracted the attention of the remaining people in the camp. Some of the bolder ones began making comments to David about the strangers, the way they looked and acted. Who were they, they wanted to know. What were they doing here? Where were they going? David picked up the kayak again and with it on his shoulder, he approached the tents and set the boat on its supports up off the ground where the wind would dry the delicate caribou skin sheathing out of the reach of the always hungry dogs.