Ilatsiak - 52 - Return to King William Island
When the sun began to return to the land again and wasn’t permenantly draped in darkness, David and Qayaq began to move northwards. In was time to return to King William Island and see Agayuq and Manneetuq and their children once again. They walked along into the growing hours of daytime as their five dogs pulled the sled. There were furs on the sled, good thick winter ones for his family if they could be found. David let his mind settle on their whereabouts, remembering the old seasonal movements and imagining the group’s snow-houses arranged on the sea ice off the eastern coast of King William Island , probably just off the Matty Isles or maybe they were up somewhere on the Boothia Peninsula perhaps at one of the favourite hunting spots he’d visited with Agayuq in the past few years. The journey took them northward up the west side of Chantrey Inlet, passed Montreal Island and then westward along the coast of the Adelaide Peninsula.
The weather was good for travelling, the hunting was getting easier, no longer requiring hours peering down at a breathing hole, waiting for the seal’s return. Female seals were grouping to get ready for the yearly pupping time making it easy for the dogs to locate their lairs in the rough ice found wherever the wind and tides had tossed the ice pans into piled heaps and then frozen into hundreds of little ice caves during the winter. Before long they reached the crossing spot at Peabody Point where the coast of King William Island could clearly be seen across the ice of Simpson Strait David debated whether to go back eastwards or continue more to the west. First he would go to the hunting camp at Malerualik. This was a favourite camp to hunt the caribou that regularly migrated from the mainland to King William Island each year. But they found place was deserted. Not even a collapsing snow hut could be found anywhere. In the old days, there would always have been at least a few families here, but things seem to have changed for some reason.
Should he return across the strait to check out Qadlunarsiorvik on the west side of the Adelaide Peninsula? Who would be there at this time hunting the large bearded seals that like to feed there? Finally he let his instinct direct him to the north and east. That was the best bet, he thought. His people would not linger in this area, but head to their own hunting grounds, he reasoned, however after several days of travel they were surprised not to see any signs of people. After passing Booth Point and turning towards the northeast, David and Qayaq began to wonder where everyone might have gone. Another few days of travelling and they would stop at the Matty Isles. Surely some friends would be there who would know.
David wondered again why it was that his people seem to be avoiding the west shores of the island. It was apparent that people never stopped in the Booth Point area anymore if at all possible. Qayaq had hinted that was had always been one of those taboo places in the stories of her people. The more he began thinking of the west coast of King William Island, the more each thought would send shivers down his back. Suddenly, he felt he would vomit. Why would this be? He had no memories of that coast. It seemed unreasonable to have these dreads and fears. The same feeling came over him as he rushed passed Booth Point. In his haste, he wondered at the foolishness of his rush yet these feelings were part of the folk-lore shared by most of his new family and friends and they were beginning to affect him as well. He had no idea why it was happening, but suddenly found himself thinking of his brief meeting with Crozier. Something was all wrong. Why would Crozier be heading southward with just one man? Why had he obviously not wanted to talk to David? It was clear he had wanted help getting south and only then would he be prepared to speak of what had happened and why he was alone, except for one man. Very strange, thought David.
Continuing northward passed Gjoa Haven, they hurried up the low and monotonous coastline towards the Matty Isles. Once again, these favourite hunting camps were deserted. Not a single sled track could be found, not even from a solitary hunter venturing out far from home. They crossed Rae Strait knowing their people must have gone up the Boothia Peninsula somewhere. A picture of where they might be began forming in his mind. He could see about 30 snow huts huddled together, the hills which formed Cape Victoria in the background. His mind began to drift as the sled undulated over the hard packed snow drifts. The steady pacing of the dogs added to the loss of sensation. David knew he was beginning to drift off, when Qayaq suddenly shouted at him, “Look, sled tracks!”
Suddenly awake, David peered at the dog and boot tracks crossing their trail. They led off to the left towards the southernmost of the Matty Islands. Finally, people! They would get some news about what was going on.
The weather was good for travelling, the hunting was getting easier, no longer requiring hours peering down at a breathing hole, waiting for the seal’s return. Female seals were grouping to get ready for the yearly pupping time making it easy for the dogs to locate their lairs in the rough ice found wherever the wind and tides had tossed the ice pans into piled heaps and then frozen into hundreds of little ice caves during the winter. Before long they reached the crossing spot at Peabody Point where the coast of King William Island could clearly be seen across the ice of Simpson Strait David debated whether to go back eastwards or continue more to the west. First he would go to the hunting camp at Malerualik. This was a favourite camp to hunt the caribou that regularly migrated from the mainland to King William Island each year. But they found place was deserted. Not even a collapsing snow hut could be found anywhere. In the old days, there would always have been at least a few families here, but things seem to have changed for some reason.
Should he return across the strait to check out Qadlunarsiorvik on the west side of the Adelaide Peninsula? Who would be there at this time hunting the large bearded seals that like to feed there? Finally he let his instinct direct him to the north and east. That was the best bet, he thought. His people would not linger in this area, but head to their own hunting grounds, he reasoned, however after several days of travel they were surprised not to see any signs of people. After passing Booth Point and turning towards the northeast, David and Qayaq began to wonder where everyone might have gone. Another few days of travelling and they would stop at the Matty Isles. Surely some friends would be there who would know.
David wondered again why it was that his people seem to be avoiding the west shores of the island. It was apparent that people never stopped in the Booth Point area anymore if at all possible. Qayaq had hinted that was had always been one of those taboo places in the stories of her people. The more he began thinking of the west coast of King William Island, the more each thought would send shivers down his back. Suddenly, he felt he would vomit. Why would this be? He had no memories of that coast. It seemed unreasonable to have these dreads and fears. The same feeling came over him as he rushed passed Booth Point. In his haste, he wondered at the foolishness of his rush yet these feelings were part of the folk-lore shared by most of his new family and friends and they were beginning to affect him as well. He had no idea why it was happening, but suddenly found himself thinking of his brief meeting with Crozier. Something was all wrong. Why would Crozier be heading southward with just one man? Why had he obviously not wanted to talk to David? It was clear he had wanted help getting south and only then would he be prepared to speak of what had happened and why he was alone, except for one man. Very strange, thought David.
Continuing northward passed Gjoa Haven, they hurried up the low and monotonous coastline towards the Matty Isles. Once again, these favourite hunting camps were deserted. Not a single sled track could be found, not even from a solitary hunter venturing out far from home. They crossed Rae Strait knowing their people must have gone up the Boothia Peninsula somewhere. A picture of where they might be began forming in his mind. He could see about 30 snow huts huddled together, the hills which formed Cape Victoria in the background. His mind began to drift as the sled undulated over the hard packed snow drifts. The steady pacing of the dogs added to the loss of sensation. David knew he was beginning to drift off, when Qayaq suddenly shouted at him, “Look, sled tracks!”
Suddenly awake, David peered at the dog and boot tracks crossing their trail. They led off to the left towards the southernmost of the Matty Islands. Finally, people! They would get some news about what was going on.
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