Canadian Ctories

Ilatsiak - 84 - Patsy's Discovery

2010-03-05T17:55:00.000-08:00

Patsy pushed open the door of the Hudson’s Bay post store and nearly bumped into Angutinquaq coming up the stairs. “Hey, what’s the hurry?” he said.
“Look at this, Patsy. An old book!” The young man was obviously excited about his find. “Found it way over by the cross over to Adelaide. It was just lying there on the ground. It looks really old. Think the trader will be interested in it?”
Patsy looked at the book. It was old alright. The thin leather covers were mostly chewed off and the pages nearly bleached clean. Little of the writing was legible anymore, but a few pages were, the ones near the back. “I don’t know. Better ask him what he thinks.”
Patsy continued down the few stairs and crossed over towards his small house in Goa Haven. He’d come a long way he thought to himself. He now worked as a clerk for the Hudson’s Bay Company and was in line to replace the present trader in the fall. He was looking forward to being in charge for once. For one thing he'd do if he was the trader was keep that book that Angutinquaq was taking in to show the trader. He was sure it was valuable, but he knew the trader wouldn’t think so. He’d probably give the kid a couple of dollars and then throw the book in the trash. Patsy decided to check through the bins before he took them to the dump for burning later that day, after the store closed.
•••
Sure enough, the little book was in the trash when Patsy took out the bin. He slipped it into his pocket.
Later that evening, Patsy opened the book so see what he could make of it. Most of the book was impossible to read as the ink had faded long ago, however, in the back, it was obvious that someone else had begun writing in it. The handwriting was quite different and while the earlier faded hand was in cursive and had a certain flowing style, the new writer only printed and had just a rough idea of spelling and other grammatical features. The book’s two writers were nearly impossible to read, but for different reasons.
The first part seemed to be a medical journal, or at least it contained notes about various illnesses and their cures. It was the sort of stuff a medical doctor might have kept about his practice noting how various treatments had worked on patients and so on. The new writer, on the other hand, seemed to be keeping a diary of events. The entries were not consecutive, but spaced over several years until they suddenly ended. The earlier ones were each signed ‘David’, but near the end they were all signed ‘Ilatsiak’. Patsy put the book down and smiled. He spent years looking for the old shaman he'd met at his father's trading post, but in vain. He had simply disappeared. Even his son didn't know what exactly had happened to him. He didn't even seem to know much about his father. Either that or he wasn't about to tell Patsy what he did know.
Now suddenly the answer was in his hand. The old shaman had been on Franklin's lost expedition in the mid 1800's. he wasn't a shaman at all. He must have worked with one of the ship's doctors and kept notes. Amazing...

• • • The End • • •

Ilatsiak - 83 - David's Tracks

2010-03-01T11:46:00.000-08:00

Kudluk wasn’t surprised when his father didn’t show up later when the group stopped to rest, but when there was still no sign of him a few days later, he decided to hunt for basking seals back along the route they’d taken from the trader’s cabin. The sled tracks were still visible even with the melting that had taken place, making David's trail was easy to follow.
By the time the sun was high in the sky, Kudluk came to the area where he had last seen his father. He could see where his tracks veered off to the north, but it was clear that he had not turned completely around back towards the traders. Instead the tracks headed straight north and then began edging towards the east. David smiled. The old guy was headed to the ice edge to look for seals! Why had he not thought of that?
Another few hours and David could see the dark blue line of open water in the distance. His father’s dog sled headed right for it.
Kuduk first became concerned as he passed over several ice cracks. None of them were moving, but he knew they soon would be. This was a dangerous area and the likelihood of an ice flow breaking off from the main ice was high. To make matters worse, there was no sign of his father other than the tracks which continued to lead straight to the water.
Then he saw the thing he feared the most. His father’s sled tracks continued straight out at the ice edge. He was out there somewhere on an ice floe, drifting with the wind and the current. If the floe was large enough, he might make it back to the main ice when the tide turned. If not, well, he’d rather not think about that. It was at least two days ago...
Kudluk realised it was futile to remain at the ice edge. He didn't have a kayak and there was no ice to be seen out on the open water. It was also dangerous as he could suffer the same fate. Urging his dogs, he turned and retraced his route, relaxing only when he passed over the last crack. It was beginning to move slightly.

Ilatsiak - 82 - Turning Around

2010-02-27T10:34:00.000-08:00

A half days journey away from the trader’s cabin, David allowed his dogs to slow down instead of keeping up with the others. For a while Kudluk jogged along side David’s sled, but then began walking as it went slower and slower. He was hoping that David would say something, but he didn’t. Finally he asked where they ought to camp. The snow was getting soft in the spring sunshine, so it was probably better to camp early and then continue on in the evening when the snow froze again.
David suddenly looked up as if he had been dozing. “Camp where you’d like.” He said. “I’m in no hurry... I’m thinking I might go back to the trader’s.”
Kudluk was struck by this idea. He had thought his father was anxious to leave the place. What did he want to return there for? Kudluk mentioned a spot a little further along the coast and said they’d stop there for a few days. He then ran ahead to catch up with his wife and their sled.
David was almost surprised he had said what he had to Kudluk. In fact, he had no idea of where he was going, but it certainly was not back to the traders. Once Kudluk had caught up with his family, David slowed his dogs to a stop and began rummaging around for some dried caribou meat. He was hungry and needed to think. As he chewed the hard, dry strip of meat, he watched Kudluk and the others disappear into the whiteness ahead. He signaled his dogs to turn left and headed out to sea.

Ilatsiak - 81 - Strangers Bring News

2010-02-26T18:39:00.000-08:00

Way out in the bay, anyone with eyes to see could make out a tiny speck slowly making its way through the ice fields. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. Soon it would be possible to tell who was coming. Even at this distance, a person’s stance on the sled was recognizable to the small group assembled at the semi-circular array of snow houses along the bay. David listened to children as they called out that there was a dog sled out on the bay coming in their direction. It unnerved him slightly and it got worse when he could hear it was strangers arriving. People unknown to the camp could mean trouble. He wondered if he should get up and go see the sleds for himself. His family would expect it as he was the oldest by far. Still he lay on the snow-house bench and seemed to have trouble making up his mind what to do.
David listened to the camp people begin to speak with the strangers. Now the origins of his discomfort became clear. There was talk of white people in the area. People with a ship. People looking for Inuit. He decided to remain where he was and watch what would happen.
Over the course of the next few days, there was much chatter among the camp people. None of them had ever seen white people although like many people they had heard lots of stories of these dog-faced people from some distant land fat to the south. Before long, many wanted to go to their camp and see what they were like close up. It would be an adventure, but at the same time others held back fearing it may be a trap of some kind.
Then Aupaluk and his family left, heading west towards the white people’s camp. The time of indecision was over and many people, including Kudluk decided they too would travel west. It was clear however that David was concerned about them going. He decided to have a special snow-house built so he could think about what the coming of the white people meant.
As he sat in the small snow-house David felt rather foolish. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He tried to concentrate on the situation and as he did so, he began to feel waves of panic sweep over him. He saw Aupaluk swirling into the water, massive blocks of ice being flung into the air and piling one on top of the other. Aupaluk was madly trying to save his wife and their children, but the water currents were too strong and the breaking ice too confusing to do anything for them. David had often had powerful dreams, but this one seemed to come from the very depth of his soul. He could only see the horrific scenes around him. Everywhere else appeared to be black and formless. Without being aware of it, he suddenly stood up, bursting right through the roof of the snow-house. In his panic, he angrily pushed aside the snow blocks in front of him and began running towards the camp, yelling for everyone to get ready to leave. He remembered yelling to them that they must hurry to save Aupaluk and his family from certain death.
The days spent at the white man’s camp were not at all what David was expecting. In a way, he had assumed he would be recognized by the traders. He expected he would have to speak English, a language which he no longer thought he knew. As the time passed and everyone treated him as an Inuk and even called him by his Inuk name, he found himself relaxing. He enjoyed speaking with a young clerk named Patsy and began to tell him some stories. Some of them were true and others he embellished to make them more interesting. He remembered telling Patsy that the traders boat was quite small to be in these waters. He also told them the boom was broken, although he couldn’t remember the word for ‘boom’ and called it the ‘thing which makes the boat go’. Not very satisfactory, but it seemed to please Patsy.
The last night they were there, David watched the white men playing dominoes. It seemed to set him off for a reason he couldn’t pin-point. Finally he got up and scattered the dominoes across the room and left. When he arrived back at Kudluk’s he announced he would be leaving. The next morning everyone had left the trading post and was on the way home.

Ilatsiak - 80 - Summer Voices

2010-02-22T08:10:00.000-08:00

After the death of his wife Qayaq and his friend Uyaraluk, David moved in with Kudluk’s family and began following the seasons with them. He was an elder now as well as being a shaman, although he never willingly accepted the latter role. He did what he could to help sick people when called upon. Without realising it, it often used techniques he seen used back in Scotland or on board ship and was often rewarded with some success. When his fellow Inuit didn’t recognize his healing methods, naturally it seemed to them to be the magic of the shaman at work. When they did understand his methods, he was still a shaman, but using a lighter form of magic, at least in their opinion.
The years passed quietly with Kudluk. For several years, David lived with a women chosen for him by Kudluk’s wife’s family. They were worried he was getting lonely and had no one to assist in the daily work that needed doing. She was a great help to him in a domestic way, mending his clothes and preparing his meals, but that seemed to be all. It was mostly a marriage of convenience and not one of love or procreation. After a few years, she departed for a younger hunter who would give her children. No one seemed to mind, least of all David. He simply moved over to David’s house and stayed there.
Eventually, and in spite of the taboos prohibiting it, David decided to remain near the seashore rather than take the long march inland each summer. Most people would have been harshly criticized for making such a move, but being a shaman had it’s privileges and David often took advantage of them. He wasn’t sure why he particularly like being near the shore in the summer, but the excuse he told himself was his old legs could no longer walk as far has the people would have to go. He would only slow them down as they hunted the inland trails.
Each morning, David would take a shorter walk often to the highest point of land where he would sit and stare out to sea. In the spring, he stared at the sea ice and watched as it slowly melted in the warming sunshine. Once open water came in August, watching the water in all it’s moods gave him great pleasure. There were times when he’d fall asleep at his lookout and even a few times when he’d suddenly waken thinking he’d seen a ship or heard the voices of sailors on deck. It was never to be, however, or so he’d think. Was it his failing eyesight? Perhaps his ears had picked up sounds of a ship sailing past. Perhaps it was only in his head. David could never be sure. He was getting old and tired. It was difficult to distinguish his dreams from his real life anymore, but even that didn't seem to bother him. Living alone, there was no one to complain.
The afternoons were better. He often went fishing at the weir, but there were also times spent renewing equipment which would be used during the coming winter. He would pass whole afternoon making toggles for the dog harnasses using the pile of antlers stacked near his tent. He was never lonely, but always looked forward to Kudluk’s family returning in the fall when his grandchildren could be close once again. For his part, Kudluk wasn’t happy knowing his father was alone. There were few dangers other than bears, but still, he wished David would join them or at least camp upriver closer to where the family would spend their summers. David would hear nothing of it, however, so for many years that was the summer pattern.

Ilatsiak - 79 - David's Vision

2010-02-19T08:59:00.000-08:00

Inside the snow-house, David set about his usual routine to get in touch with the spirits. It took two days for them to come. He was beginning to worry that he had been abandoned by more than his wife and friend. The spirits seemed to have left him as well. However when they came to him, it was very vividly. He saw a little ship, frozen into the bay and several people dressed in fur clothing worked around her, coming and going. No Inuit people could be seen near her. The men worked at strange white platforms out on the ice, some of which had little doors which would swing out. The men would then take something out look at it carefully then begin to swing it at arm’s length. Finally they would replace the object, close the door to the box and return to the ship.
David wanted to see the men more closely, but had trouble. The spirits kept fading the vision he had and other than a brief glimpse of the boat, he was able to see nothing that made much sense to him. In the end, he knew that this boat would leave in the summer and never come again. He would never meet the people on it, but in some strange way these men would meet him, or at least people, he had known as children. In one of his visions, the boat was in another place, a place he had known with his father Agayuq many years ago. At first, he saw men standing on this ship speaking to Inuit people on the ice below. Then the scene abruptly changed. Everyone was out in the snow and were crowding around the white men, grabbing at them, pulling their clothing and shouting and laughing. They would called them “Kablunaq” and stare into their faces, then try to stroke their beards and feel their arms and chests as if trying to discover what they were. David woke up from these visions exhausted and confused. What was he seeing? He couldn’t be sure. It was disquieting and disturbing, yet he had the feeling that these men were not to be feared. There were not looking for him as others had seemed to be.
When Kudluk returned for his father, he found him asleep. He entered his snow-house and began to cut off slices of frozen caribou from the leg bone he had left. “This old man has forgotten to eat...” he mumbled to himself. “He’ll starve to death if I leave him alone too much.”
The sound of someone with him slowly came to David’s ears and brought him awake. He saw Kudluk and smiled, his eyes had a sparkle to them which Kudluk found almost amusing. “You have come, my son. Good. It is time to return to the camp. All is well. Uyaraluk is happy in the spirit world. Life must go on now.”

Ilatsiak - 78 - Musk Ox People

2010-02-01T08:09:00.000-08:00

In the days which followed there was much to do. First came the move in order to let the dead spirit find its peace in its new world. Staying put would only make the transition more difficult for it if they remained in the area. Finding a new spot to build their camp took three days and then the men were forced to begun hunting again. The new area, while known to the men, still took time to produce seals and David was busy reassuring people that their choice had been the right one. But after the settling in period was over and life began to adjust in the absence of Uyaraluk’s familiar figure, David had time to reflect on the coming of the whites again to the area. Why was it, he wondered, that they kept following him? Was it he they were looking for? But why him? He decided to find the young hunter and question him about these people and find out what they wanted here.
Uyaraluk had mentioned the hunter’s name, but he was not known to many people in the camp. He was from a group of people living further to the east, people who were called the Musk Ox people because of where they lived. It was too far to travel to visit this man and besides, who knows where he might be at this time of the year. The Musk Ox people were known to be wanderers and could be far inland or even on Victoria Island. Instead, David made a shorter trip to a islet out in the bay where he like to go by himself and confer with his spirits. By this time he had several spirits who would visit him regularly and from whom he could sometimes extract bits of useful information. He got Kudlik to take him out there and build a snow-house. He then left promising to return in a few days. Since the death of Qayaq about two years previously, David had come to depend on his son Kudluk and his family. It was a comfortable arrangement and one which made the loss of his wife bearable. He missed her every day and sometimes pleaded with his spirits to take him to see her if they could, but they never did. Slowly David realised they would not, but he had Kudluk and his family to remind him of her.

Ilatsiak - 77 - Uyaraluk's Warning

2010-01-27T11:43:00.000-08:00

Living in Uyaraluk’s camp had been good to David. The months of traveling had helped to erase his memories. Even Qayaq had returned to her old happy self. Now with several years of living in their new home, there was little for them to complain about.
The lives of the people in Bathurst Inlet, much like theirs, was again one of seasonal routine, which played themselves out with a quiet annual rhythm which he and Qayaq found to their liking. The memories of their oldest son had faded and became replaced by the birth of their daughter. With the passing years their children grew up, Kudluk married a girl he had known most of his life and their growing family added to David’s pleasure as he moved into his elder years. He and Uyaraluk had become the closest of friends and were seldomly seen outside of each other’s company. Qayaq complained now and then of missing her relatives along the river they had left, but realised they would mostly be gone now, so many years had past since they had last seen them. There was little point going back. Still, it pained her when she thought of them.
These days came to an end when Uyaraluk died one morning. He had been showing signs for several weeks that something was not right, and while he was one of the oldest in the camp, no one expected his death. It was as if he had been a part of the daily life of the group for so long, it was unthinkable that he could leave them. David was more than a bit shaken when his grand-daughter appeared in their snow-house and just stood there, afraid to speak. Finally she turned and left. The tears in her eyes told both David and Qayaq than something had happened which was ominous. He got up and pulling his boots on went to see what it was. When he broke out into the sunshine and stood up, he knew instantly. People were blocking up the entrance to Uyaraluk’s snow-house, and others were preparing to leave the camp. He had died, just like that, with so little warning.
David stared at the snow-house. He had not slept well. Uyaraluk had come to talk with him earlier in the evening. he had told him a story a young hunter had brought him the summer before. It was about a ship he had seen, sailing in the waters north of Bathurst Inlet. The man had watched the boat swing into Cambridge Bay and not come out. During the following winter, the hunter had gone into the bay to see what had happened to the ship and found it still there. He had then discovered white people on the ship who took him inside and for several days they spoke together and ate strange food. Uyaraluk was very impressed with these stories because only once before had he met anyone who knew white people and that had been David. He had never spoken of this because David had performed many seances where white people seemed to come up out of the water beneath the ice and scare people into behaving themselves. He was afraid of what David might think of these new white people. He also remembered that it had been partly the fear of white people that had brought David and Qayaq and their grieving family to his tent long ago on the Fish River and they had decided to leave and come to Bathurst Inlet. Now he was old and felt he had to warn David that white people were coming back again after all these years.
David stood for quite a while, no one moved towards him or spoke. They knew what he was thinking. These two men who had been friends for so long, most people didn’t even remember seeing them in the time before they had been friends. David moved to the side of the snow-house and sunk his bare hands into the walls of snow. He held them there as he wept for his friend. Finally when no more tears would come he pulled his hands from the snow and looked at them. They were dry and still warm. People who saw this would speak of the magic in this man and how he was so special to them. It was men like him who made their lives special as well, holding out to them the strength and courage to live in a land which could seem harsh at times even to a people who could imagine no better place.

Ilatsiak - 76 - The Move

2010-01-25T11:20:00.000-08:00

Uyaraluk was a traveler. He had been born in the Bathurst Inlet area far to the west along the coast, but even during his childhood he became known for wandering ways. His parents were always having to go searching for him and even began calling him ‘Wanderer’ as a nickname. As a young man, he was no different and in his early twenties, he slowly began making his way eastward sometimes following coastlines, but more often rivers inland. He didn’t seem to have any particular destination in mind or need companions for these voyages of discovery, but occasionally a woman would join him for a while and by the time he ran into Qayaq’s people on the Fish River, he had several children and two wives to look after them. He and David hit it off right from the start and the two families were nearly inseparable, fishing together and ranging over the tundra in search of caribou each fall. It was rare for them to be found apart and in a way David blamed himself for heading up-river to fish without his friends this one time. Perhaps his friend would have noticed the children getting into danger along the river’s edge and been able to prevent the tragedy from happening.
When the news spread about the loss of Tulugak, Uyaraluk knew it was time to head back to Bathurst Inlet. He didn’t know why, but suddenly it was clear to him that returning home was the thing to do. He began to wonder about his own family and more and more was anxious about how they were. He made up his mind to return as soon as traveling was good again in the spring. He decided to talk with David and see if his family would join him. It would do them all good to get away from this river which had caused so much trouble recently. He was sure David would want to come. His own family was gone for the most part and Qajaq did not seem to be recovering from Tulugak’s death as she ought to be. She needed to be somewhere she could begin again without the constant reminders the river kept providing every time she look at it.

Ilatsiak - 75 - Uyaraluk

2010-01-24T17:09:00.000-08:00

Kudluk finished and slipped out of the tent. David listened as he heard his kamiks crunch over the gravel beach until he reached the snow and went silent. It had been Kudluk who had been with his brother when he had fallen and slid into the river. He had alerted them with his cries. He had seen everything, yet was now silent. It was as if by not saying anything, it would stop it from happening and things would be back the way they were. Yet it had happened. As the two were watching the water rushing past in the stream, the ice shelf they were on had suddenly given way. Kudluk’s watched his brother slide into the water and before he could react, Tulugak was swept away in the current. Within seconds he had moved beyond reach and then without even a chance to turn and scream, he’s been sucked under the ice lower downstream and disappeared. It was all over so suddenly.
Without looking up David began, “We’ll move back down to Uyaraluk’s camp tomorrow. I want to hunt with him for a while. He knows where the caribou go in the Fall. Maybe we’ll hunt seals together this winter.”
Qajaq said nothing. She raised her eyebrows slightly in acknowledgement, that was all. It would do them both to move away from these memories. It would be good to follow Uyaraluk for a while. To go to a new place, perhaps further west. Uyaraluk had mentioned once that he had never heard about people going hungry until he began to fish with the Ukti’miut. In his opinion this river they were on was a place of troubles and the sea where it ended was worse. People were always dying there, fighting and behaving in ways which were bad for people. It would be good to go to his land for a while, if only to see what it was really like.
Ilatisak picked up the bowl of fish remains and the sealskin used as a cutting surface, crawled out of the tent and walked down the slope to the river. He slowly began to wash out the bowl. It was made of copper sheet, sheeting taken from the wreck of the Erebus. His mind slowly formed a picture of the man who had taught him how to shape this soft metal into useful objects like the bowl in his hand. He saw the older man’s knarled hands, his kindly bearded face, the much dented, wooded bench he had worked on all that winter in the candle lit confines of the ship. David had not thought of this man for a long time and it surprised him how clearly he could picture the scene. He tried to think of the man’s name, but it would not come to him. David swirled some river water in the bowl to give it a final rinse, then suddenly stopped. The swirling water was too vivid, even for him. He pictured once again his son in the water of the river, too far to reach, moving down into the rapids, being swirled to his death in the fury of the falls below. How had that happened so fast? Again, as they had been doing since the accident, his eyes filled with tears and he raised his hand to rub them off his face. His eldest son was gone. The river had taken him. That was all. Life must go on as it always did. Life was hard, it gave and it took away. One must move with it, not fight back, not change what would happen. David took the copper bowl and threw it out into the current. It’s lip caught a bit of water, but then landed upright and sailed with the current into the first of the foaming rapid where it disappeared for good.
He finished washing the sealskin with some loose snow then dropped it outside the tent to dry in the sunshine and went to look for Kudluk. He would tell him about moving to Uyaraluk’s. It wasn’t good to be alone for long in troubled times like these.

Ilatsiak - 74 - Return to Fish River

2010-01-19T06:39:00.000-08:00

After the death of old Agayuq the following winter, David and his family decided to re-visit Qayaq’s former home. It had been several years snce they’d seen her relatives and she wanted the children to meet them and visit her homeland. They took a different route, crossing easily over to the Boothia Peninsula and then headed southwards to the Fish River.
It was a happy time, traveling in the spring was easy and they were lucky to come across a small herd of caribou not once, but several times enroute. Joining up with Qayaq’s relatives proved more difficult, but eventually they found them and settled in for the summer. David happily went fishing and caribou hunting with Qayaq’s uncles and their friends. Life was good.
They remained in the area that winter and as spring arrived Qayak was anxious to visit her famil’s old fishing weir further up the river from their winter camp. David and Uyaraluk his hunting partner and their families decided to move together, but suddenly Uyaraluk decided not to move just yet. So within a few days, David, Qayaq and their two boys were out of their aging snow-house and back into caribou skin tents several miles up the river.
The tent was erected in its usual place beside the fishing weir that Qayaq’s family had come to so many times over the years they had been together. It sat on one of the few patches of bare ground, the rest still cloaked with the winter’s snow. The river rushed past, swollen with new melt water, the snow banks gradually melting back to the shorelines. As they approached, no one could be seen. David and Kudluk, coming in from a walk over the surrounding hills, realised that Qajaq must be inside. They bent over, pulled aside the door flap and entered the darkness.
She sat at the very back of the tent surrounded by the smoky darkness without even her lamp lit for light. As his eyes made the adjustment to the low light, David could see she had been crying, even though it had now been two days. The same pain spread across his chest tightening his lungs making it hard to breathe. Still, he said nothing. Kudluk simply sat on the left side of the sleeping area normally reserved for strangers and visitors. He too had no words to say to his mother. He picked up one of the thick char and began to carve it into steaks about two inches thick. David looked at the metal knife-blade and turned away. Reaching under the pile of articles behind where he sat, he felt for and then pulled out a stiffened piece of sealskin already darkened from being used many times as a cutting surface. His movements brought him again face to face with Qajaq. Even in the dim light he could see the puffness of her face. Her eyes and nose were reddish from being wiped so many times. He turned and reached for one of the raw fish steaks, then offered it to her. She just wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t hungry.
He bent the O-shaped portion backwards on itself so the gleaming pink flesh turned outwards. He began to slowly peel it away from the silvery skin with his teeth. It was still cold, moist, fresh from the weir. Kudluk ate as well, first turning the fish slice inside-out and then with his fingers inserted into the loop of flesh, he began eating, slurping silently in his corner. His thoughts seemed so far away. Still no one spoke. It was too soon to acknowledge what had happened. Words would come later if they would come at all. Now it was time to be together and collectively heal, bathed in the closeness of each other’s company. For them life would continue. It had to. To survive was everything in this land.
As each man finished licking the flesh and fat off each piece of fish, they would turn the skin back right-side-out and discard them into a sort of rounded metal container. David had never learned to eat the skins and he watch Kudluk discard them as well. “Odd,” he thought to himself, “He is so much more like me. He is the oldest son now, but he is so much more like me than his lost brother.”

Ilatsiak - 73 - The Walk Home

2010-01-18T07:12:00.000-08:00

During the long walk back to the camp, both David and Tulugak noticed that Agayuq seemed more talkative than usual. He told stories from his childhood, pointing out various features on the landscape, some real and others seemingly imagined. Both David and Tulugak would look at each other when the old man’s stories began to get more and more fantastic.
After stopping to eat, Agayuq suddenly announced he was too tired to go on. He’d decided to camp on the stop and continue later. He tried to encourage the other two to go on alone. He’d be alright. Of course, they were in no hurry so all three made themselves comfortable on the ground and were soon asleep.
Tulugak woke his father with a slight shake. “Ataata, grand-father’s gone...”. Looking up, David saw the old man had indeed left while they had slept. They hastily collected their things and headed out wondering where he had gone. Not far ahead, on a slight ridge they could see Agayuq, lying down. As they came closer they began picking up items which the old man had mysteriously discarded. Reaching him, they realised he was dead. For some reason he had wanted to be alone at the end. David found that confusing and sad, but in a way it was so like him. Independent to the end. Always hunting for something different.
They placed Agayuq’s body in the bear-skin and rolled it up. Then they placed rocks over it, burying him in his last bear. It all seemed so fitting, but both men had tears streaming down their faces as they worked. It was hard to walk away towards the camp, still a day’s walk ahead. What would they say to those waiting for them to return?

Ilatsiak - 72 - Agayuq's Bear

2008-12-04T14:31:00.000-08:00

All three men and their dogs were in action now. Hurrying back the way Tulugak had come they followed the dogs. Noting the wind was coming directly from the south, they stayed slightly to the west so as not to excite the dogs too early. Finally cresting a hill just to the west of the trail, they peered down at the boat. Sure enough a bear was still there and was busy dragging something away from the boat. All three untied their dogs and sent them racing down the slope. The bear only looked up at the last moment and raising on ts hind legs, spun around to face the dogs.
Agayuq readied his harpoon. This was the bear he’d been given. He knew it immediately. The dogs raced about the bear howling and jumping at it. The bear would spin to give a clout to the nearest dog, but kept missing. It was obviously hungry and slower than it would have normally been. Agayuq wait for his chance. He was only a few yards from the bear. Suddenly he grunted and the harpoon struck the bear in the chest, just below the throat. The bear tried to paw at the harpoon, then leapt towards Agayuq, the shaft swinging to the side. David could see Agayuq was in danger. He ran to face the charging bear. Agayuq grabbed David’s harpoon and pushed the end onto the ground just as the bear fell towards them. The harpoon head pierced the bear’s chest , the shaft broke with a loud crack as the bear hit the ground. The dogs were all over it, biting its neck and back wherever they could. The bear slowly stopped struggling. It was dead. Agayuq having made the first hit, had got his bear.
After skinning and cutting the bear, all three men began collecting rocks to bury the meat until it could be retrieved during the winter when sledding was easy. That finally done, David wandered back up the trail to look at the boat for the first time. The others stayed behind. The bear had been dragging a skeleton still inside a Navy greatcoat. There was little to eat. Inside the boat were two other skeletons also bundled up as if they needed protection from the cold. The boat was full of items , but little food. Only some chocolate squares remained that David could recognize. Sadly he returned to the bear cache.
“Let’s head home, father. We’ve got your bear. There’s nothing else to do here...”

Ilatsiak - 71 - The Rowboat

2008-11-24T14:22:00.000-08:00

By the fall of that year, many things had changed. David was being openly called ‘Ilatsiak’ by people. It seemed to be a joke, something to do with a man who’d lived years ago who’d miraculously learned to understand the language of the white people who came on ships. At that time several ships had become locked in a small bay on the east side of Boothia. As the ships remained there a number of winters, many Inuit became accustomed to visiting the sailors and getting favours of one sort and another from them. A few people learned words spoken by the sailors, but only Ilatsiak was able to speak full sentences. He became well known among the people and was often sought out when visiting the ships.
Given David’s origins, it seemed natural that David would acquire the name of this old man, especially given he had died some years before David began living with Agayuq’s family. Taking on the name of a person who’d passed away was commonplace especially if some sort of relationship was apparent.
This was made more clear to David as he, his son Tulugak and Agayuq walked along the broken rocks of the beach, each leading a dog on a line. They’d come to the west side of King William Island to hunt bears, something they rarely did. This year the aging Agayuq had woken up one morning with the dream of killing a bear. He’d killed one when he was young, but not since and something deep inside him told him that a bear was his if he wanted to hunt one. So gathering the boys together, they set off from the fishing camp by the lake when they’d spent the late summer. Finally they’d reached the shore and stared out at the ice they seem to never melt in this area.
“No wonder the ships got stuck here.” Agayuq said. “This sea never melts...”
David said nothing and headed off walking along the beach towards the south. His dog seemed to have sensed something, although as far as he could see, there seemed to be just more of the light brown fractured rock they’d been walking on for the past few days. The only change was that almost nothing grew in the area and here and there heavy pans of dirty ice lay shoved up on the beach, melting. The other dogs had caught the scent now and they too pulled at their traces, eager to be off towards whatever it was.
Coming to a wide bay leading westward, the dogs all pulled south. Whatever it was, they indicated it was inland along the old trail that led over to the south coast. Agayuq was not eager to go that way hoping to find his bear roaming the shoreline. He could see the ice was jammed close to the shore further west and was sure that would be where his bear was waiting. After a brief discussion t was decided that Tulugak would take his dog up the trail, while David and his father continued around the bay to the west.
It was a difficult time to hunt bears as they left no tracks either on the ice or the shore. Still hungry bears often searched the floes just offshore for seals hunting the small fish which frequented the shallow water. So as they walked along, both men stared out to sea, watching for any movement which might be a bear. They failed to notice Tulugak when he ran up the highest hill and waved his arms trying to catch their attention far below.
As the afternoon stretched on, David began to tire and suggested they walk up the small hill behind the point of and they were on. They could scour the ice floes in the bay and wait for Tulugak to catch up with them. Agayuq was getting tired as well, in fact David was amazed at his stamina, better than he’d seen it in years. This bear was giving him new strength, it seemed! They walked up the hill and as they neared the crest, Tulugak came bounding over it, obviously excited about something.
Catching his breath, the story spilled out in bits and pieces. There was a boat up the trail. A boat miles from the water. It was heading towards the bay. He’d seen a bear... He’d tried to signal them...

Illatsiak - 70 - Old Names

2008-11-10T11:42:00.000-08:00

He tried to busy himself with his wife’s assortment of stretched seal skins, moving them to better catch the drying rays of the spring sunshine. He turned some caribou meat, also sun drying, as it hung over a stretched out seal skin line. Then he turned his attention to some slabs of seal blubber, moving them away from a couple of poles, the two wooden snow shovels, one still having parts of the wood painted in a pale yellow colour. Rotting seal blubber would stick to anything, he’d better get it out of the way before someone stepped into it... David watched his father doing chores usually reserved for his mother. “He is upset.” he thought to himself.”I have never seen him doing things like this...”
In spite of his outward showing of unconcern, inside, Agayuq was worried about the sudden arrival of these white people. He kept thinking of how they had suddenly appeared from the northeast with dog sleds and lots of equipment. It bothered him how they had stayed around most of the morning and then continued on to the south towards Back’s Fish River to the land of the Utku’miut where his son David was living with Qajaq’s family. The strangers didn’t speak the language of the people very well. It had been hard to understand them, but it was clear that their questions were all about where the ships were, how could they get to see them and what had happened to the shipmen. Agayuq had been so afraid of them, he had told them nothing except that the ships had sunk long ago, maybe eight or ten years ago. Finally he pretended not to understand the words of the Inuk translator who told him what they wanted. Agayuq didn’t want to admit to them that all the men must have died because most of them were never seen again after that awful summer when people had encountered them walking along the south coast. He knew the stories about how upset the white man who had come from Repulse Bay had been when he was told the stories of the camps of the starving ship men. He knew there had been at least three of these camps and, in some of them, men had eated the ones who died. The Inuit had found pots of cut up legs. Although there were similar tales of such things among his own people, it was so awful to think about, especially when his son could have been one of them had he not come to live with them. It was not something people talked about anymore.
Finally he turned and headed back into the snow house. The family would leave this camp and return further east to where his relatives would be spending the late winter and spring. It would be better there in the company of real people who didn’t always ask so many nosy questions about a time best forgotten.
“All those men from the ships died...” remarked his son seeing his father back on the sleeping bench.
“Yes, they all died...all of them. There are no more of them.” Agayuq, changed the subject seemingly relieved him and he began to tease his wife about what a fine cook she was. David knew what was coming next. He motioned to his daughter to follow him as he pulled on his boots and crawled out the doorway. Once outside, he stood up, peering to the south, wondering what those men might be doing. His father had been acting so strangely since he had arrived on a rare visit to go spring hunting. Had the strange men been dangerous? It was so unlike him to act this way. Maybe Agayuq is getting old and is worried about things too much. Hunting will cheer him up. It always did. Taking his daughter’s hand, he pushed her into their newly built snow house entrance ahead of him. He followed her into the snowhouse he and Qayak had built only a few yards further along the glistening snowdrift. When they had arrived the day before, he had not anticipated his father’s stories. He would tell Qayak. She would have something to say about the visit of the white men. She always had good advice, and would straighten things out.
“My father says white people have come,” David whispered to Qayaq later than evening as they sipped the hot seal gravy she had prepared.
“I know, “ Qajaq answered. “Your mother told me yesterday about them. Everyone was afraid, but they have gone. Strange they would come to our land. Why are they coming here when they don’t like it here?”
After pausing a moment in thought, David looked up at Qayaq, “I don’t know.
"Did you ever know your grandfather, your father’s father?”
“My grandfather? No. I was too young. Why?” David was curious where this was leading.
“You have his name. He was a brave man who knew white people. Your mother told me that when the white people came, she thought they were looking for him because he had learned to talk with white people who had come a long time ago. She was afraid they would want to take you with them because you have the same name.”
"He had my name?"
"Yes. The name people call you when you're not around: Ilatsiak..."
"I don't understand. Why am I called that? I am David. Everyone knows that..." David was genuinely puzzled by Qayaq's strange remark. He had another name?
"Yes, but don't tell anyone. I shouldn't have told you that. Forget it..." Qayaq was embarrassed to have openly mentioned this secret name. It wasn't normally done.
“We should not speak of the old ones. I will go hunting with Agayuq tomorrow if the wind calms.” The questions and explanations ended there, which relieved Qayaq immensely. She knew she had gone too far.

Illatsiak - 69 - More Whitemen Come Searching

2008-11-05T19:14:00.000-08:00

“Blue eyed people have come here again looking for the frozen ships...” were the first words out of old Agayuq’s mouth when he finally sat down and finished sipping the hot juice from the boiling seal meat stew in the snow house.
“The frozen ships? When?” David looked confused. What an odd thing to mention after all these years. He and Qajaq had not seen the old man for at least two winters now and this was the first thing on his mind on their return from living in the Fish River area.
“Yes, a few days ago. There was a strange sounding Inuk and two other white men, one with blue eyes. They were looking for the dead shipmen. They wanted to find them, but I told them they had all died a long way away from here. I don’t know if they understood. Perhaps not. It was such a long time ago the frozen ships were here and these new men didn’t speak our language very well.”
“Blue eyes? White men? Where did they come from?” David became more and more puzzled. White men have not come to Kigitarjuk for many, many years. Not since the men from the frozen-in ships had died had they come here. It was usually a sign of bad things to come, illness and dying. But it also meant interesting things and supplies of rare things like wood and metal.
“They wanted to take my wooden things with them, but I said no. They asked if the wood had came from the ships where men had died long ago. They asked where the ships were and wanted to know where the men had gone. I could see them looking at my tent poles and spear handle. I was afraid of these men. It was not my fault their men had died or their ships had sunk. It was so long ago, maybe ten years have passed since that time.”
“What did you tell them?” David asked his father hesitantly. He found this whole conversation somehow confusing and could feel it upsetting him, but he couldn’t tell what exactly it was that was bothering him. It was true, so many years had passed since those days.
“I said nothing about the white men who died. I was afraid to speak of them. They are not our people. Finally I told them that the two ships had sunk. I said the wood came from the ship that sank about five days travel from here, past Malerulalik, past where the caribou cross over the ice to the mainland in the fall, over in the Ootjoolik area. No wood was had from the other ship. It sank too fast.”
“What about the wood? What did you say about the things you’ve made with it?” David could see his father was quite shaken from his experience, and even now, after the white men had left, he was reluctant to say much more about meeting these strange white men. He was afraid to lose the wood which had been so hard to obtain. Did he still have bad dreams about the ships and what had happened to the men on them? It was not something they had talked about very much especially in recent years. It semed to be painful to both of them so was never brought up.
“I said nothing. The wood we have now came from trading with some Utku’miut. You know that is true.” At that old Agayuq dropped to his knees and crawled out of the snow house in company with his favourite old dog, his constant companion these days. Once outside, he stood up and scanned the southern horizon. There was no one to be seen in any direction. They were gone for good, swallowed up by the vast snow fields which at this time of year stretched beyond the land, onto the sea ice and to the horizon. He knew they would not be coming back. That’s how it always was. White people seemed to only pass through this land, although he had heard the new stories about the whalers who had been coming to the land of the Aivilingmiut in Hudson Bay. Nothing seemed to interest white people in Kikitarjuk except the frozen-in ships, and that was only rarely these days. Yet these men had come. What did they really want?

Illatsiak - 68 - Second Child

2008-11-05T19:12:00.000-08:00

Tulukaq was almost five when David and Qayaq found themselves once again pregnant. As before they were living with Agayua and Maneetaq, this time on the west coast of Boothia. When they discovered the baby was a girl, both immediately knew her name must be Assita after Qayaq’s mother had died the previous fall. Now here she was back again as their daughter. Living on the Boothia was a good choice for the young family. Hunting was good and hardly anyone ever brought up the old stories of the frozen-in ships. With Qayaq’s mother dead they seldom visited the Fish River area as her father now lived with them and had become good friend’s with Agayuq.
The years began to slowly go by, season by season. Each year they moved back and forth along routes which became ever more familiar and homelike. Only exceptionally did they venture off the usual path to hunt or camp in new areas or stay with new people. David came to realise these times were good ones, living with happy people and an abundant land.

Illatsiak - 67 - Qallunaq Come from the East

2008-10-29T12:08:00.000-07:00

The remainder of the journey to Qayaq’s people on the Fish River had gone quickly, almost as if David’s actions burying the past had also cleared up their traveling problems as well. On their arrival, it was decided to hold a party to celebrate Qayaq’s new baby and also the successful fishing season.
The children began falling asleep from exhaustion around the walls of the tent, but for the adults, the dancing and stories continued into the night. An old man’s much younger wife began to speak. She began by lamenting the loss of the shiny spoons she had been given one day about a year or so ago. She had had to give them, she said, to another strange white man who had come to Pelly Bay from even farther to the east that spring. It had seemed like a good trade at first, but, now it was the shiny spoons she remembered and she wished she still had them. They were so pretty and had interesting markings carved into them which she liked to think had magical powers. Then she began to tell a story of meeting the whiteman from Repulse Bay.
It was at a time when she and her husband had been living with the Netsilingmiut near Pelly Bay. It was late during the winter when her son had been born. Two men, one of whom could speak their language had walked into their camp and asked them to come and visit them. At first they didn’t want to go, but several of the Netsilingmiut knew people from Repulse Bay and decided to go and see if they had come. In the end everyone, all 17 or so went to see the people from Repulse Bay and the whitemen they had brought with them. The white man was dressed just like them in caribou skins, not in strange clothes like the ship men who have died several year previously in their area. This whiteman was very tall, she remembered, and had lots of whiskers, but not too much hair on top of his head. He didn’t speak their language. He wanted to know all about their land, how the sea coast went, where the rivers were and things like that. He knew about Ross’s ships. He wanted someone to stay with him and show him our land, especially here around Boothia, but no one wanted to go. The people were suspicious and afraid. She said people were afraid this stranger was going to punish them for not helping save the sailors. We were hunting seals then, she said. It wasn’t a good time to be traveling.
At that point, another man broke in and told how he had heard about this whiteman too. He began a similar story which told how this man had managed to travel into the Boothia and how he had asked many questions about the two ships where the men had died. He told of how several stories had been given to the Repulse Bay man about the ship men and some of the places where they had died. Finally he told how many things taken from the ships had been given to him. The man was very happy to collect these things and asked many times to be given more. In the end he had to return to Repulse Bay, but after that more spoons and forks and other things were taken there to be traded. Some things were lost because the man left Repulse Bay on a little boat and never returned for the things brought there for him. The man ended his story by saying this whiteman had become very upset when he was told about how the ship men had begun to eat each other. It was after hearing these things that he had left and not come back. It was never nice to think about, but sometimes people had to eat their dead in order to survive themselves.
David listened to these stories, but now more than ever before, they seemed un-real somehow. He no longer felt they were part of them. It was so hard to actually see them as being real or meaningful in any way. They were no longer stories about real people like them. It was odd to be wondering about men who had died so long ago, or had been in the area so long ago. At least, David wondered why would white people be interested now after all these years? Many of the people who had seen them were old now if not already dead themselves. Why had the whitemen not come when the ship men were still alive? Maybe they would not have died had white people come back for them earlier. Maybe they would have all died anyway. It was too big a puzzle for him to wonder about.
Finally, he got up, pulled his boots on and slipped his outer parka over his head and went outside. The wind was calming and he could see the night sky again above full of stars, the homes of all the ones who had died and left this world. Inside the snowhouse several people thought about the stories they had just heard. Inside they wanted to say something, but it wasn’t polite to openly criticize. Instead, they said nothing. One man began singing an old song “Ai, ai, ya....ya, ee, yaa, ya...” The mood changed and suddenly people smiled again and found they still had the strength to dance again. Another man passed the skin drum to the singer who immediately began beating it along the rim with the padded baton, twisting and turning as he sang.

Ilatsiak - 66 - The Cache

2008-10-25T17:07:00.000-07:00

Returning to the cache, David suddenly had an idea. These men, his old shipmates, needed to be honoured in some way for what they had been through. They needed to be buried, they needed someone to speak for them at their graves, but how? There was no possible way to find their bodies now that years had passed. He could try to bury those bodies that he knew about, but what of the others? There had been so many. Then the thought came suddenly clear. He’s bury the log books, their memories and dreams! He bury the books at sea in honour of the sailors! Returning the books and the copper cylinder to the barrel. After filling the remaining space with rocks, he did his best to refasten the hoops and the top. Carefully rolling the barrel down the slope and onto the ice, David then dragged it out as far as he dared on the rotting ice. Coming to an open lead, he tried to the best of his ability to say a few words for his departed shipmates, and then slid the barrel into the water. It floated briefly, but as the water entered through the cracks between the staves, it slowly sank out of sight.
For David, the action produced an overwhelming sense of peace and relief. Saying goodbye to his past and the people he had known seem to change so much. The guilt and confusion which he had been keeping buried deep inside himself was gone for the first time in ages. Now he was truly free to be an Inuk, a father and husband, and if he wanted to believe it, a shaman if that’s what the people wanted.

Ilatsiak - 65 - Reading the Past

2008-10-23T18:56:00.000-07:00

The trip south a few months later to visit Qayaq’s Utkuh people in the Fish River area seemed to be plagued with problems from the beginning. The further west they traveled, the less snow they found and they had to make numerous detours to keep some snow under the sled’s runners. Finally arriving at the narrows, it was clear that the usually firm ice was too far into its melting phase to risk the crossing. They would have to wait until fall or perhaps, if they were lucky someone might come along with a large skin covered umiaq big enough to get them across. A few people had these boats, but none were on this side of the narrows at the moment.
Instead, it was decided that David would go hunting for caribou and seals along the coast, while Qayaq and Tulukaq remained at the narrows to wait in case an umiaq showed up.
David had seldom been along the part of the coast he now walked. It was one of those places that his people tended to avoid, even more since the white sailors had all died there. Even David gave the bay where he had discovered the tents full of dead men some years ago, a wide birth, convincing himself that he’d more likely see caibou further inland than along the coast at that spot. Heading further west than he had ever gone before, David was fascinated by a pillar he could see on a point of land ahead of him. By the end of the second day, he reached it. It was obviously built by white people as its shape and size were unlike the inuksuit frequently made by Inuit. This one was about three feet in diameter and came up to his shoulder in height. Built of the usual flat, brown stones that lay scattered everywhere, he could see that it was not that old compared to most markers seen around the country.
Knowing that canisters of information were frequently placed in these cairns, David began pulling rocks out here and there to see if anything had been placed in this one. Sure enough, he soon found a small wooden barrel, about 18 inches across and double that in length. It was the kind that many food stuffs on board the ship had come in. David removed more rocks until he freed the barrel from its rocky nest. Pulling it out, he found it heavier than he expected and he allowed it to fall to the ground. As it hit the ground, the barrel hoops gave way and the contents spilled out. There was a copper cylinder, now turned a greenish colour and two large books, which David recognized as the two ship’s logs! Opening the one from the Erebus first, he began with the last entry at the end. Now he’s learn the truth.
As he read, he once again started to feel his old illness returning. He had thought he was free of it, but here it was, coming back to him. He had to stop frequently and take a walk out to the end of the point. He would sit there and stare at the glistening sea ice covered with old melt pools and even small streams which rapidly carried more melt water off the top and into the cracks which appeared here and there. In a way it was calming just to sit there. Each time he returned to read some more, the nausea would return. Finally, David gave up. There was nothing he could have done to alter what had happened, the crushing they had taken in the ice, the abandonment several years ago, nor the desperate attempt to break out, one group heading to the Fish River under Crozier and the other led by Fitzjames heading westward to link up with Franklin’s Point Turnaround and then on to Alaska and the whalers who’d be there. Both groups had taken modified ships boats which had been dragged overland from points further north. The last entry written by Fitzjames after Crozier’s party had departed, revealed that a small group had rebelled and had returned to the Erebus. They feared leaving the ships and Fitjames gave them responsibility for guarding the ships while he was away. It was clear he knew they wouldn’t survive, but he had little choice. It was that or admit a mutiny had occurred.
The Terror, it appeared had been crushed and pushed into the shallows and destroyed during the third spring in the ice forcing the small group of ‘mutineers’ onto the Erebus.
Fitzjames had set out from the cairn with the remaining small crew of mostly ill-fit men for his voyage west. David knew immediately that they were too few in number to have been able to make it very far. There were only sufficient to man the oars with no one to spare. He wondered how far they had managed to get. The boat he had found the previous summer not far from the Fish River was obviously one of the ones used by Crozier. Those men had not got very far either it seemed, but it appeared they were crewed mostly by the most severely weakened, the men who would never have managed the trip west in open boats. It was hoped that once they had benefited from a month or two of fresh food reputedly found in the Fish River mouth, they would follow Fitzjames west. David wondered if any had. Remembering his meeting with Crozier, he didn’t look like it.

Ilatsiak - 64 - Agayuq’s Visit

2008-10-21T11:47:00.000-07:00

During the late winter, both David and Agayuq’s family were once again camping in the Matty Island region to hunt seals. They’d spent the winter moving back and forth between King William Island and the Boothia Peninsula, moving with the seals, being carefuly not to hunt too often in the same area for fear of angering the goddess of the sea who sent them seals when it pleased her to do so.
One day when David arrived back in Agayuq’s camp from an multi-day hunting trip alone, he found no one was about. Entering his snowhouse he discovered Qayaq and Tulugak asleep as if it was the middle of the night. Slipping out of his clothes, he climbed into his customary spot against the snow wall and closed his eyes. After a few minutes he heard Agayuq’s voice talking to him in a low whisper from the snow house entrance.
“You have returned, but things are not well.”
David opened his eyes and looked down at the man squatting a few feet away from him. “The ship people have died... everywhere,” Agayuq said. They are all gone...”
“I have heard this too.” David stared at Agayuq with unaccustomed frankness. “People have told me this during the winter you disappeared,” Agayuq continued, “but I was shy to tell you. When I was in Boothia, people from King William Island visited and told me the ship people were not well, they were dying everywhere. They said that some had died even two summer’s ago.”
“I heard stories too. people talked about the ships on my way here last Fall. I wish you had told me these things long ago. Maybe we could have helped them.”
“Yes I should have told you, but how could we have helped the ship people? They are not like us. They don’t live our way or eat our food.”
“But I do... or I did.” David whispered back.
“Yes, you did, that is so. But you are us now. You were given to us. We are too few to have helped the ship people. There was little we could have done. They were so many. Their sickness and strange behaviour scared many people, so we stayed away from them. They weren’t like the white people who came here years ago.”
David closed his eyes. Agayuq started again. He obviously was finding it difficult to talk about this subject. He kept his voice to a whisper and stayed crouching in the entrance tunnel of the snow house. “I sent you away to live with Qayaq so you wouldn’t know. I didn’t want you to find out. I didn’t want you to get sick and die, like them. Maybe I should have told you...”
“No. I went to meet Qayaq’s family. It wasn’t your choice...” But, for the first time, David saw the cunning in Agayuq and realised how easily he had fallen into Agayuq’s plan. “I had to go. I wanted to be with Qayaq. It wasn’t your doing. There’s nothing to feel badly about.” he lied, yet knowing it was also the truth. “Whatever happened to the sailors, happened slowly, over several years, during the time they were frozen in the ice. Now it’s all over. There’s nothing that can be done anymore.”
Agayuq was right about a lot of things. About David’s wanting to be with Qayaq, the rightness of their union, and now about the sailors’ fate. The expedition members would not have accepted help. He still remembered the comments and jeers made about the people they had encountered in Greenland during the transfer of supplies. The remarks about superiority of the English, how filthy and foolish the Greenlanders were. There seemed to be so little common ground. Even if Agayuq and others went and offered help it would have been scoft at and they would have been rebuffed. It would have been pointless. Now it was too late. From what he had learned the previous summer and fall, most, if not all of the crew had died. Still David couldn’t help but think that so few bodies had been found. What had become of all the others? Had they been able to escape? Were they still alive somewhere? Agayuq just shook his head, as if knowing what David was thinking. He then turned around and left the family sleeping under their skins. David wondered at the sudden remarks his father has just made, but eventually, weary from the long hunt, he fell asleep.

Ilatsiak - 63 - First Child

2007-10-02T07:54:00.000-07:00

Qayaq and Maneejaq walked David back to the tent. That night Qayaq took David’s hand and pulled it down and across her belly. No longer flat and muscular, it was rounded like a wave worn rock. “We’ll be having a child when the snow comes, David.” Qayaq had another reason to welcome David home. When she discovered she was pregnant shortly after he had disappeared, she feared for the future, an uncertain time ahead that as time went by she dreaded more and more. Now all that had suddenly miraculously changed.
What remained of the summer passed quickly and with little out of the ordinary occuring. Hunting and fishing went on at the usual hurried pace. Food was cached in the usual places in preparation of another winter coming. David and Agayuq again went caribou hunting, this time at the crossing point between King William Island and the Adelaide. For the first time, David was able to use his stored kayak to chase the escaping animals out into the water to retrieve the wounded. This increased their catch considerably so that they had meat and skins to share among others in the camp. Both enjoyed a few weeks of high prestige among their fellows all the while pretending they didn’t deserve it, but had just been luckier than usual.
By the time Qayaq was ready to give birth, both familes were living back on the east coast a bit south of the Matty Islands. David and Agayuq had both gone out hunting and it happened that the baby chose to be born while they were out. Maneejaq came running out of the tent with the news as soon as she heard their voices coming across the newly formed sea ice. “Hurry, hurry!” She yelled at them and for a moment they assumed something bad had occurred, but after running a bit they could see Maneejaq’s face beaming and both knew what her news must be. Once in the tent, they got to hold the baby, a son, born only a few hours before their arrival. It was a proud moment for the whole family, everyone crowding around oo’ing and aaa’ing as parents do everywhere.
In the weeks that followed, they were both anxious to show off the baby boy that Qayaq had given birth to. David was still a bit shocked to think he was a father, something he never imagined he would become. “Tulukaq, a good name,” he proclaimed to all those who visited their tent to see the baby. “He will fly high and travel far. He will know everything!” They were proud words, but David was in a boasting mood, so thrilled was he with the news of Tulukaq’s birth. They began to plan for their trip south to the Fish River in the spring so that Qayaq’s parents would see the newborn as well.

Ilatsiak - 62 - Reunion!

2007-09-28T16:19:00.000-07:00

David wandered into the sun-lit fog which drifted across the flat, gravel landscape far to the south of the family encampment at the lake, the sun a blurring disk in his feverish eyes. His illness seemed to be returning, he thought. He stumbled about for what seemed to be hours, falling now and then, sometimes laying asleep for hours, only to begin wander deleriously once again, here and then without direction or destination. He was no longer travelling with the people he had camped with during the summer blizzard. Like others, he had chosen to take a separate route to the lake in hopes of finding game. Ptarmigan were often abundant at this time of year and they were best found by spreading out as they walked.
Finally, all idea of time or place erased from his mind, he slowly realised that he was on the ground, that he’d once again fallen down on another gravel ridge, a bit above the surrounding landscape. He was waking up, his fever gone. He felt new and almost refreshed and knew that he would live. For the first time since seeing the overturned boat and it’s skeletons, he felt somehow the past and it’s horrific events were now falling behind him. He began to focus on Qayaq and his family. He began to see there was a new life ahead for him, the past could disappear, even if not it wasn’t completely settled. These stories, especially the ones which swirled inside his head, could end. He knew that was so, but at the same time, he wished there was another way of ending everything, to completely move away and live free of the terrible past.
Not certain at all where he was, he began walking in a direction chosen only because it seemed to be a good choice at the time and for no other reason. He could recognize nothing in the featureless landscape. Every view in any direction seemed identical. He just had the feeling inside that he was headed back to the camp and his people. As the sun’s glow slid along the western hoizon at the end of the third day of walking since the snow storm, David saw the lake and Inuit tents directly ahead. He began to run towards them and recognizing his father’s dogs, he knew he was safely back home.
Hearing someone approaching their tent from inland, Agayuq and Maneejag camp out to see who it might be. Astonished to see David approaching them, they stood rigid, not knowing if he was real or not. They’d heard from people who had recently arrived that he was coming, but from what they’d heard, they were certain he had died like all the other sailors. This news was wrong. The David the people had spoken of must be somone else.
Noticing everything had so suddenly gone quiet outside, Qayaq came out to learn what was happening. Seeing David walking towards them looking so much like his old self, she burst into tears and started running towards him. Maneejaq wanted to hold her back, but couldn’t even bring her arm out to grab Qayaq’s parka as she ran past. As the two young people raced towards the other, both began screaming and finally reached out and grabbed each other in a warm hug. David was back and he was alive and well!
Finding him so well and obviously recovered after being convinced of his death, created considerable talk among everyone in the camp. This was unheard of. They were still mourning his death and now here he was among them, alive and well once again!
As the account of his recovery spread from place to place, more and more people began to refer to David as being someone special and that he must have shaman powers in the making. To them it was clear that the spirits favoured him. How else could he still be alive? Within a few years, whether he desired it or not, David’s story of miraculous recovery spread slowly but surely. In spite of his denials, people slowly began thinking of him as a powerful shaman. David kept trying to distance himself from this idea of theirs, but it wasn’t easy. In the people’s mind, the die was cast.

Ilatsiak - 61 - More Strange Stories

2007-09-25T17:11:00.000-07:00

Stormy weather had been raging for three days and life inside the small collection tents was beginning to become wearisome for the inhabitants. David had managed to catch up with this group who were also headed to the lake for the fishing season. They were a mixed lot, some he knew, but many people were new to him as they were Netsilik people who lived usually on the east coast of Boothia.
The weather forced everyone to remain inside the tents. The elders had told all the old stories at least a couple times and the children were starting to need things to do. Magical string figures, the game of catching a small weasel’s skull on a pointed stick to which it was attached by a short length of caribou sinew no longer held their attention for long. Still, venturing outside while the winds whipped up the unusual mid-summer snow into a blinding whiteness could be deadly. Children were scolded every time they moved in the direction of the tent entrances. Elders told them the stories about the unfortunate people who had ventured out just a few paces to relieve themselves. People who never returned, lost forever in the swirling winds and snow. In the white-out, blowing snow conditions they had not been able to find their way back the few paces to the entrance again and wandered about until they died. Blizzards could be very dangerous at any time of the year.
Some people began telling stories again, but this time a strange quietness lay over the audience. These were newer stories, stories which, because they told of dead people, were usually avoided and kept away from children’s ears. But, once again, the strange white people being seen in the area had brought these dreadful stories back to life and the older people began to speak of them as if to understand them, to explain them to each other. An middle aged lady told the story about her family’s meeting 40 or so of the strange white men dragging their boat along the southern coast of King William Island about a year or so ago. They must have come from the frozen-in ships as they were called. They were the only white people to have come in recent years and the only ones ever to have came here to these lands to the west. Oh, how miserable they had looked, how black their lips had been and how worn out their faces were. She told how they could not speak the Inuit language, but had gestered that they were hungry. She told of how the people had offered them a seal to eat, and that afterwards they had all camped together for the night, but how many people had been afraid of them. They could see the desparate look about these white people. They could not be sure what might happen, what these strangers might do. Nervous and fearing for their safety, the people made the decision to move further along the coast and wait to see what the ship people did. They would try and catch another seal and leave it for them to pick up.
So early the next day they quietly slipped away from the unfortunate ones who would surely die soon without more food. To the Inuit, it was clear that to stay and help them would have brought disaster to them all. There were strange men among them who seemed to be irrational and had to be restrained by the others for some reason she didn’t understand. They had yelled and shouted at them. She told of how frightened they had all been and that was why they decided during the evening that it was best not to stay to try and help the strangers too much, but instead to leave them alone. It had been last summer, she went on, when no summer had come, when hunting had been poor and many people were going hungry, especially along that coast. The group never did leave any food for the ship people, she said. They bearly caught food for themselves. No caribou had come across to Kikitarjuk during the summer and even the geese had not stayed long. Her story reminded them of how the cold icy storms had raged one day only to be followed by rainy weather and sleet the next, creating an unending season of misery for all. This summer wasa turning out to be little better, everyone agreed.
The adults in the tent listened quietly. No one wanted to hear the story, but no one was brave enough to stop the teller. They sat and waited for it to finish. David waited in the silence that lay over the people in the gloom of the tent after the lady stopped speaking. Everyone seemed to have their own memories of those times so recently passed. David couldn’t help but think of the overturned boat he had seen so recently. Was this the same group, he wondered? Then another man began to speak softly and slowly, often clearing his throat and stopping as the memories came back to him. He spoke of a later time, sometime during the early fall, after the woman had seen the strangers. He told of his going to the half sunken ship, one of the frozen-in ships belonging to the strangers which had got free of the ice and had came down to Ootugoolik to the west of the Adelaide peninsula. He had gone there with Kunana, a friend of Agayuq’s vaguely known to David, who had apparently been there several times to get wood to make a a sled and other things. He told of the wonders they had found there and of seeing a dead man inside the ship, big and heavy and dressed in dark strange clothes made from skins unlike anything Inuit had ever seen. Now that ship was gone, sunk when a fire started after a loud explosion. Many people had visited that ship and have wood and other things from it. Now it was gone, they were disappointed to have lost so many of the wonderful things it had contained.
David said nothing as he listened to these stories, but he was curious that everyone seemed to know so much about the ships and their crews, yet he had learned so little. Were people keeping the truth from him? Once again, he decided to get Agayuq to open up and tell him all he knew when he found him, hopefully at the lake.

Ilatsiak - 60 - Goodsir's Book

2007-09-19T17:37:00.000-07:00

David began to realise that the rumours about strange white people in this area during the past year were perhaps more true than he had believed they were when he’d first heard them. Meeting Cozier and Ashram and now finding the boat with the bodies inside did suggest that sailors had spent the fall and winter in the inlet to the Fish River. People had said because the men looked so ill they had not dared to approach their camps or have much to do with them. When the few who had lived through the winter finally left, everyone had breathed with relief. However, David was becoming more and more aware that if he wasn’t already the sole survivor of the expedition, 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 already dead or would be very soon. He sat down and just stared downwards as if already dead himself, watching as the ground slowly lost any shape or colour. Then slowly, as though he was in a dream he could see himself himself walking away towards one of the slight ridges he had been complaining about. He watched himself lay down on a sealskin he’d been using as a seat in the kayak. As he sat watching, he saw his spirit-creature standing by the boat. He was shaking his head and then he spoke. “Leave this place. It is not a good place. It is where people fought and killed and then ate each other. Leave soon!”

* * *
David paddled in brilliant sunshine, westward. He was getting closer and closer to the narrow strait leading over to King William Island. The sea was almost dead calm and he knew it was the perfect moment to cross over. Just as he edged the boat over to make the turn out to sea, he caught a glimpse of another boat coming towards him. He put on a burst of speed to close the gap and soon was talking with them. It was so good to see people again. Best of all, they had seen Agayuq and Qayaq only a few days before, at the Big Lake. All smiles, David left and within a few hours was building two matching rock towers to rest the kayak on, high up out of reach of any animals hungry enough to eat the precious skin covering. That job finished, he began walking inland, following the trail to the Big Lake.
As he reached the top of the ridge just above the same cove where he had landed the kayak, David’s attention was directed, suddenly to something reddish lying on the ground off to hs left. Turning slightly he headed that way until he could see it was a faded red coloured squarish shape. Then as he reached, it saw it was a book! It had been years since he’s seen a book. He bent down and picked it up. The print on the cover was too washed out to make out the title, but most of the pages could still be read. At first he hoped he might be a diary so he could find out what had happened to the ships, but turning the pages he realised it was a medical text, sort of like a first aid guide. Disappointed he dropped it to the ground and looked around for others, but seeing none, he changed his mind and picked up the book again, noting for the first time a name written on the inside cover: Harry Goodsir. David’s heart gave a skip. His friend had been here perhaps and dropped his book! Flipping rapidly through the pages, David found many of them had notes about various medical advice Goodsir had added. There were also comments about the plants and animals he had noticed since leaving England. Nothing had been added about the fate of the crews and, of course, nothing to explain why the book had been left on the ridge. It must have been dropped accidently by whoever had been carrying it as they passed along the ridge. Without really thinking about it, David put the book into the rolled up sealskin he was carrying over his back and once again headed towards the lake.

Ilatsiak - 59 - The Boat

2007-09-17T13:48:00.000-07:00

He looked around the bay that first evening, trying to locate himself in the vasteness of this land, seeking a spot to safely land the kayak. As he did, David found himself thinking thoughts of his far-away home. It had been a long time since he’d had thoughts like these. 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 seemingly without change in every direction, waves ofwater or rock, it didn’t seem to matter so few places more predominant than the other. There were so few signs of man’s presence. Did he miss the signs of man’s habitation which led into the distant past, the stone monuments and dwellings? It was hard to say. It all seemed so long ago. How long ago was it, anyway? He could hardly remember how many winters had passed since he been in this place so far away, living with the Inuit. 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’ he had seen marking an occasional human presence.
He felt his heart grab hold and tighten in his chest, a lonely, gripping clutch. He let his eyes fill up with tears. They began to run down his face warm on his cheeks before they could drip off. His face in his hands, he sobbed alone into the endless land that stretched out before him. Overhead the drab, rain clouds drifted steadily eastward in the chilly, raw wind which had begun to blow from the north. It seemed the wind too wished to depart from this lonely place and head to the warmer south.
David’s mind suddenly plunged once again into the horrific scenes of his former comrads he had been running from. Screaming for the searing images in his head to end, he quickly landed the kayak on the sandy beach before him, carried it up above the beach. Not caring or thinking about it, he began to run 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 mud and gravel ground and fell flat against it, his sealskin boots offering no traction on the slippery surface. Scrambling to his feet the lump took shape in the fading light. It was a man’s body. Who? What was a body doing here? David stared at the body or actually the loose collection of bones that seemed bundled within the dark clothing, wondering why he had been out here so far from any camp. He reached down and picked up a watch and then saw that it was on a chain around the man’s neck. A watch? Why did he have a watch? He dropped it into the mud. David ceased to care.
As he turned he realised for the first time he had been yelling and screaming. Was his illness back again, he wondered? Was it his shaman illness as he was beginning to call it? He stood and blankly stared back at the man lying there. The body was real. It was no spirit-creature. Looking around, he suddenly saw that one of the ridges he’s been comparing to that long ago home, was actually the hull of an overturned boat. So the man had come in one of the ship’s boats and died here. Why? David slowly approached the boat. Coming around the stern, he peered under the overturned hull. Several other bodies lay there, all dead and not much more than skeletons under some blankets. It looked like animals had broken some of the skeletons apart. Leg and arm bones seemed to have been pulled off and were scattered in a rough pile at the bow of the boat.
There was nothing left for him now but to keep on going. It was over, for some reason the expedition members were dying everywhere. Terrible things had happened both here and elsewhere. David wondered if Crozier and Asham had originally been with this group and had somehow managed to get away and live. It certainly looked possible. After all the boat would have easily accommodated a couple more people and there seemed to be lots of supplies, although none of it was food. Crozier had been very evasive when David had asked how he and Asham had come to the Fish River area and he was even quieter about how and where they had made it through the past winter.

Ilatsiak - 58 - Looking for Agayuq

2007-06-22T08:20:00.000-07:00

During the days that followed, people in the camp kept talking about what had taken place. Secretly, they began calling David a shaman. They gave him a new name, but kept it to themselves, not sure what David would think.
Slowly as the days went by, people began moving on to other places for the summer, and David began feeling it was time for him to start looking for Agayuq and Qayaq once again. It was also time to distance himself from the strange things that had happened. Things he couldn’t explain to anyone, not even himself.
He travelled south towards the Fish River, thinking that perhaps Agayuq had gone there looking for him. He had been told that Agayuq and Maneetaq were lonely for him and Qayaq. However, after finally arriving at the mouth of the river about mid summer, none of the people he met there had seen either of them. When an opportunity opened to him, David decided to go kayak hunting along the west coast of Chantrey Inlet with some friends he’d met a year or two earlier. This would get him nearer to King William Island and perhaps give him a better chance of finding his two families.
In the weeks that followed, David truly found himself at home in a kayak. The rougher water of the Inlet and the longer distances they travelled, gave him more skills and confidence than he’s ever gained on the small river and lakes inland. He also learned to care for the craft, repairing the skin and delicate wooden parts are they required fixing. One thing David could not get his companions to do was consider changing the shape of the bow to allow it to run over oncoming waves better that it did. They were also reluctant to make repairs, let alone consider making a full cover, with sealskins rather than the caribou skin covers they were accustomed to using. David suspected they watched his sealskin repair efforts closely to see how they faired. Perhaps they would make the switch later when he wasn’t around.
By the time they reached the point at the northern-most tip of the Inlet, the other hunters decided to return home. They’d been away from their families long enough and then hunting hadn’t turned out to be all that successful. David wanted to continue around the point and westward in hopes of finding his people. Agreeing to separate and meet the following spring, David now set out alone going westward along the coast. He knew he’d be able to cross the strait at the narrows within a few days and from there he could reach the southern shores of King William Island.

Ilatsiak - 57 - Stranger Still

2007-06-21T19:36:00.000-07:00

The spring seal camp David came across as he headed back to King William Island was situated on the east shore of Ross Strait. The early open water had attracted an unusually large number of people including several well known shamen and David was accepted at the camp where several people had heard of him although his latest troubles were unknown. It was both a time to celebrate the good hunting as well as a time to entertain each other. In the evenings, the shamen in the camp began holding competitions to perform the most miraculous feats for the people assembled. David had had little experience with these shamen, but his recent experience with the little spirit-creature he’d seen made him curious to watch what they did. While his experience had seemed very real at the time, he’d come to the point where he believed what he had seen was only a part of the illness he seemed to be going through.
He watched carefully as one old woman named Paanaktuq took off a mitten and laid it on the floor, all the while saying she had no real powers. However, before long the mitten suddenly came alive and stood up. As it did, it turned into a tiny man, even smaller the the one David had seen. The little man spun around and gazed at the audience. Pannaktuq reached down and picked the little fellow up, but when she did, the man returned to being a mitten. She put both her mittens on and lifted them up for everyone to see. Then magically, everyone was astounded to watch them both turn into bear’s claws. Then she shook them off and dropped them between her legs and they began to scratch the floor all by themselves. Bending over, she picked them up and, as before, they changed back into ordinary mittens. The crowd roared with approval at the magic sight, begging her to do more tricks, but Paanaktuq was a sly old thing and with a twinkle in her eye she refused, claiming that her spirit helpers would not be happy if she made them work too hard.
The gathering then turned to other people known to have powers to entertain and amuse people. Some called to one shaman who was known to terrify people with his tricks, but when they did, it was apparent to many people, especially some of the younger men, that things were getting out of hand and were going too far. However, once excited, especially after feasting on seal after the bleak and hungry winter just passed, enough people were anxious to celebrate no matter what. The shaman watch a few people leave, but then told one of the last men about to leave to stand upright against the wall of the dance-house they’d built for the feasting time. The shaman then picked up a spear and drove it right through the poor man’s chest, out his back and then threw it to the rear of the house. Several other men in the house at the time had to grab the poor fellow to avoid his falling down. The whole place was in shock and began screaming. There was now a rush to the passageway leading outside. Immediately the crush of fur covered bodies created a pile-up preventing anyone from leaving except those at the very front. While the screaming and carrying on was continuing, the shaman calmly picked up the spear and forced it back through the chest wound and out the front of the man’s fur parka. When it had passed right through and out again, the man appeared totally unharmed and was able to carry on as if nothing had happened.
The people still inside who had watched this last event was astounded and horrified. Several of the children ran screaming and had begun trying to break through the icy walls of the, house while most of their parents were too stunned by what had occurred to run after them or stop them. David too was unable to move, but a feeling as though something had snapped inside him seemed to grab him. He began to wail in a loud voice and fell to his knees. From there he crawled around the house, barking at the icy walls now and then, while people tried to get out of his way. As he made his way around, those who witnessed it told stories later claiming that they saw him as he began to grow smaller and smaller and then sink slowly into the snow covered floor. Within minutes he had vanished down through the ice, sinking out of sight completely, the ice closing in behind him as he sank. He seemed to disappear for several minutes, when shouts could be heard coming from some men who were sleeping in another snow hut nearby. David had come up through a newly made hole in their house floor, dripping wet and icy. They screamed as they watched this ‘thing’ in their midst. It had a long seal skin rope in his hand which it began tugging on as though a large seal was attached to the end. It then began yelling at the hole in the ice in a strange language which no one could understand. Finally, with much noise and splashing, it pulled three white men out of the watery hole! They were gaunt and blackened, but otherwise alive and shivering. They all moved towards David with saws and began to cut him to pieces, throwing his arms and legs around the snowhouse to the horror of the men watching from the snow bench. When they had done this, the strange men all turned and staggered out of the house through the usual entranceway.
In shock at what they had seen, the men on the bench pounded a hole through the wall at the back of the house and escaped outside. Surrounding the house were many of the people who had just watched David disappear minutes before from the adjoining house. They retreated in a hurry when they saw the men break through the back of the snow hut screaming that a man from the sea had just been killed by three white men. Those outside were baffled when told that the killers had just crawled out the entrance to the snow house. They’d seen no one leave. Finally someone brave enough volunteered to look into the house to see what was left. There was no trace of either the white men nor the hole through which they had come up out of the water. Instead, they found David asleep on the snow bench. He was perfectly dry and unharmed.

Ilatsiak - 56 - Strange Experience

2007-06-19T05:59:00.000-07:00

David wandered from camp to camp around the Boothia Peninsula all that spring, but never found Agayuq or his camp. Many people knew him, of course, the number of people in the whole area was small and most people were known to each other at least to some extent. Still, Agayuq’s whereabouts were a mystery.
During David’s wanderings, he continued to have bouts of doubt about himself and strange dreams and fits.
When the rivers began to melt and flow freely again, he went fishing alone on one of the small streams which flowed towards the sea. David had always been intrigued with the way fish could be caught using a kugivuq, the two-pronged harpoon which held the fish on two sides while the center barb impailed it. Made of springy caribou antler material carefully carved to shape and laced onto a shaft, it was a very clever and effective fish catching tool, but it required a certain amount of skill, something he didn’t have at that time.
David lay on the ice ledge beside a small rushing stream, intently watching the fish in a quiet side pool swim up to the stones under the ice below him where they could be speared. As he was peering intently at them, he slowly realised that he in turn was being watched. Assumming it was one of the local people come to watch his ineptitude, he paid no attention and continued to practice his fish spearing skills. But when he heard a noise he didn’t recognize he turned and saw what seemed to be a small child-like creature appeared to be standing looking at him. It was not a child, but a tiny adult person about two feet tall. Taken by surprise as he was, David let out a yell and turned to run, nearly falling on the slippery ice along the edge of the stream. As he regained his balance he stopped, then nearly fell a second time. The spirit creature seemed to be accompanied by other spirits but David could not clearly see these others. They seemed faint and nearly transparent. He was very much afraid of them, and when they approached he tried to back away, asking the closest one if he was going to die or was he already dead. The spirit, if that’s what it was, who seemed to be a youngish man about his own age, said no. He went on to tell him that he would live to be an old man, in fact, saying he would live to be one of the oldest.
The spirit then took the kugivuq from David, made a quick jab into the water, and caught a tom-cod for him. This he swung right up to David’s mouth, spear and all and told him eat it, fresh and cold, still dripping with the water it had come from. The young spirit person then told him that by eating this fish he had by the act gained special magical powers which only shamen possessed. He was told that these powers would gradually become apparent to him over time as he learned more.
The spirit then told David to walk back to his camp, which he did. All the while the little person kept talking to him, explaining that he had been sent to work together with David for the benefit of the Inuit. He was also warned by the spirit never to eat the intestines of any animal, only meat and fat. When they arrived closer to his camp, the spirit seemed to go faint, slowly disappearing. David sat down beside his tent, stunned by his strange experience. What was going on in his life, he wondered. Was he going mad? Perhaps it was time to cross over to King William Island, find Qayaq and see if he could return to a more normal life. Surely her calm, caring touch would heal him and stop these crazy experiences and dreams.

Ilatsiak - 55 - David Disappears

2007-06-17T10:54:00.000-07:00

Qayaq followed the many tracks in the snow that led back to the old camp. The trail was wide and easy to follow as the spring snow had been packed hard by the people who had made it only a few hours before. When she arrived, she found all the houses still intact except theirs. It was completely distroyed. There was no sign of David. Qayaq was distraught. She sat in the ruins and cried, until she suddenly thought, if there was no body, David must still be alive! He didn’t die at all... Yet, where was he?
Finally she got up and began heading back to the new camp, but suddenly she stopped. Tracks! Of course, there would be tracks. She could follow David’s tracks and follow him. She returned to the camp and began searching. She walked completely around the old camp, but the only tracks she could find were those made by the villagers she had left with. How could that be, she wondered? David had not come with them. Where could he have gone? Maybe he was dead and had somehow been taken away or something. It was very confusing.
Once again, she slowly circled the old camp, but nothing, no tracks led anywhere except to the new camp. Sadly, she headed back, baffled by this discovery. By mid morning, she was back with the family who had befriended her. She slipped into her sleeping robes and closed her eyes.

* * *
David was determined to find Agayuq and find out what he knew about the ships. Somehow, knowing the truth would put an end to these spells and let him get on with living in this land. While he couldn’t remember everything, he knew that he had had a breakdown of some sort at the Matty camp. He knew enough of the people’s ways to know that they feared anyone who had acted as strangely as he had. They would quickly distance themselves from it fearing that the irrational behaviour could endanger the whole group. So when he woke up after everyone had left, he smashed down what was left of the snowhouse and began to follow their tracks knowing they would not go very far the first day. When he found their camp, he quietly hitched up his dogs to his sled and headed eastward. The people would take care of Qayaq. When he had found Agayuq and settled his mind with whatever news he could find, then he would return for her.

Ilatsiak - 54 - David's Illness

2007-06-10T09:03:00.001-07:00

The plan had been to leave the camp at Matty Island in the morning and continue looking for Agayuq and Maneejaq to the east on Boothia Peninsula. However in the morning David was obviously not well. He had tossed and turned in the night, forcing Qayak to replace the caribou sleeping robes several times. Finally she got up and began heating up the remains of the seal soup they had been eating the day before.
David drifted in and out of sleep, sometimes yelling in his sleep. Qayaq didn’t understand what he was saying as he spoke English or Gaelic, but it was enough to worry her. When it was light enough, she went around the camp to speak with the other women to see if they had any ideas on what she should do. Finally, it was decided to ask an older man who was known to be a part-time shaman, only to discover that he was out hunting. When Qayaq returned to their dwelling, David was stark naked and washing himself with snow he had taken from the floor of the house.
“What are you doing?” Qajaq asked, surprised at his behaviour.
“Go away! Get out of here!” he yelled back. Qayaq was shocked. She had never seen him acting like this. It was very impolite in her experience for anyone to raise their voice. She turned and fled. As she exited the entrance, she could already see others coming to see what was happening. They rushed over and hustled her into another snow house close by.
“What’s happening?” they asked.
“I don’t know...” Qayaq buried her head in her hands. “He’s very strange. I don’t know.”
Over the course of the next few hours, all kinds of bizarre noises and yells came from David’s igloo. When the shaman finally arrived back from hunting, he was immediately asked for help. By this time, David had broken several windows in the walls of the snow house and was throwing all their belongings outside. The shaman instructed everyone to bring skins and to cover the igloo. He entered the snow porch and suddenly everything went quiet inside. In a few minutes he came back outside.
“We must remove the skins and get ready to leave this place. He is dead.”
Qayaq was stunned. Dead? What was happening? She burst into tears and ran towards the snowhouse, but as quickly she was grabbed and held back. “No! We must leave. Now!”
Someone held Qayaq while everyone rushed to leave and within the hour, the whole camp was deserted. Only the shambles of David’s igloo remained, but it was silent and seemed empty of life.

Once everyone was asleep in the new camp set up several miles away, Qayaq got dressed and began walking back to find David.

Ilatsiak - 53 - The Girls’ Tale

2007-06-05T05:46:00.000-07:00

Qayaq listened to the two little girls rattle on and on with their story. They would giggle, then quickly go serious and wide eyed as it came rushing out of them. It reminded Qayaq of when she was little and would go exploring the tundra while her paretns were busy. She too had been used to wandering about and knew that almost her earliest memories were of walking along the raised beaches behind her parents spring camp when they were camping on the Matty islands. She happily recalled the hours being with her older sister who would usually be carried their younger brother in the pouch of their mother’s amautiq. They would hop from one beach level to the next trying to catch lemmings and sik-sik, the ubiquitous ground squirrels that lived in holes in the rocky ground. Their walks would be their only play. As they walked they both chewed leather to soften for boot soles for their mother. It seemed she never had enough soles for everyone’s boots, especially in the summer. The rough ground and sharp rocks along the beaches were very hard on the soles during the those months. Their mother was constantly at them, telling them to remember to switch boots each day to prevent holes from developing too quickly.
The girls were telling a story which happened just after the family had made the crossing from their winter camp in Boothia in order to be at the inland fishing camp during the summer. It had been several years since they had joined the fun and visiting that always occurred at the lakes. It was a feature of their annual cycle that everyone looked forward to. Qayaq smiled, thinking she too had loved the lakes. That was where she had met David.
She focused back on the girls’ story. They were talking about not being familiar with every part of this coast, but that they were certain that whatever it was they could see had to be something new. It took them about half and hour to walk close enough to get a better view. All the time her sister held back. She was much more timid and felt they should not be going closer to the unknown thing by themselves. They really should be asking the elders instead. They would take care of whatever it was. Whatever was there was very new and strange and certainly was not put there by Inuit. They decided to be safe turned for home.
Qayak listened more attentively as the two girls told their story. From their description it reminded her of David’s stories of the boxes he had been told to guard, boxes which had come from ships. She wondered if she should get him so he could listen to the girls too, but then some puppies crawled out from under the caribou skins and the girls stopped talking and ran to pick them up. Next they were outside, holding the puppies in the air, making their legs more so they would learn to run fast when they grew up.
When David returned she repeated the girls story to him. They then asked the girls’ father for more details. He informed them the girls had seen the old pile of boxes left on the beach several years previously by the white sailors. There wasn’t much left there now because the sailors had taken it away. He then told how David’s father, Agayuq had discovered the boxes and wondered about them. There were stories from other places years ago about boxes piled on the beach so Agayuq returned to the camp and reported his find, no one was too surprised. They had already heard the girls’ story as well about these new boxes. Several days later, acting on the advice of the older men in the camp, he and several other men began walking down the beach in the direction of the boxes the he had seen. The elders had been quite excited on hearing the news and hoped the boxes would be as rich as the others had proven to be years ago. Four men had been chosen to go and look at the boxes and for the qallunait who had probably put them on the point. They quickly covered the ground and found hundreds of boxes of different sizes laying neatly piled on the beach above the high tide line. Piles of other materials, rope, cans and other strange things lay heaped around the boxes. There was a sense of haste about the place as though the spot was quickly chosen, the work done in a rush and then those involved had made a quick retreat. This was not noticed however by the Inuit as they picked their way through the various items they saw.
There was no sign of any white men if it had been they who placed the boxes on the beach. As well, the beach stones born no tracks that were clear enough to provide clues. They could see the marks in places which boat keels had made, but not being familiar with such heavy boats, they didn’t understand what they were. The elders had been strict in telling the men not to open any of the boxes, nor to take anything. While little was known about the white men who left the boxes, what little was known was that they had very different ideas about sharing than did the Inuit. It was thought that they were not fully human yet in that regard.
One day, later in the summer, he man continued, when Agayuq began cutting up the remains of a seal he had just caught, the two dogs he had out hunting with him picked up a strange scent and stood pulling at their traces, yelping at the distant point to the west of them. Agayuq, alerted, began to smell the same odor as well. It was coming from the point where the boxes had been found. Finishing quickly by caching the three seals he had caught that day under some snow, together with the cut portions intended for the dogs, placed onto the large seal skin he had been using as an improvised sled, he set out walking towards the point. He hadn’t gone far before his eyes, trained by years of hunting to pick out the slightest movement in the landscape, were able to pick out at least four and possibly five people at the boxes. They were dressed in strange clothes and while they looked like men, they certainly did not look like anyone he had seen before. They must be the qallunait the elders talked about having seen years ago to the east. They also had left boxes on the beach in several places.
“Agayuq stole one of those white men and rasied him as his own...” the father of the girls stated. “Now that boy lives far away with the Fish River people so he won’t go back to the qallunat.” David and Qayaq smiled to each other, keeping their secret to themselves.
“And where is Agayuq now?” David asked.
“I don’t know,” the man answered. “Maybe gone looking for his son. He misses him a lot!”

Ilatsiak - 52 - Return to King William Island

2007-06-02T19:21:00.000-07:00

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.

Ilatsiak - 51 - Worrisome News

2007-05-25T07:47:00.002-07:00

Kunana slowly rose from his sled as it came up the slight rise to the tent and halted. Then with a rolling, graceful gait he walked ahead and settled his five dogs. They were tired and took no coaxing. They curled up and fell asleep. Agayuq stood at the entrance to his skin tent and waited before saying anything. Finally he took a step and smiled.
“So, you have arrived.”
“Yes, yes, finally I arrive. There is so little snow as yet, hardly enough to sled on. I have been many days coming with such poor dogs as these.” Kunana lied. He had five of the best dogs Agayuq had seen in years. “I have been to the place of the ships. There is trouble happening there. Think carefully before you visit them.”
Agayuq had been hearing other ship stories almost from the moment David had left to go south with Qayaq several months ago. Now more and more stories were being told by people who had actually visited the ships or seen the sailors moving along the west coast during the past summer. When David had first come to them, the ships were far away to the north and no one went to see them, but recently there had been new stories of how the ice had opened and allowed them to come further south during the past summer. Some Inuit had gone hunting geese and caribou at the crossing place on the southwest coast the previous August and seen the white people, some had even even hunted with them, but he had not gone. “It’s not good there. I heard four men died of sickness. I have heard others say there was fighting as well back at the ships. I won’t be going to see them then.”
Kunana was a young man of about 20. Still unmarried, he was well known as an excellent hunter and voracious wanderer, always on the lookout for adventure. He looked again at Agayuq as they sat on the skins at the back of the tent and poked around in the cooking pot’s greasy soup for the remaining seal ribs. Retrieving one, he would give it a good looking over and then begin pulling the meat off with his teeth. “One of the ships will sink this winter,” he began again. “It is already breaking up in the ice.It is nearly on its side and only dead men are in it.”
“Dead men?” questioned Agayuq.
“They put the dead ones there. Maybe they are afraid of being dead on our land. I don’t know why they do that.”
“Are their many dead ones?”
“Yes, more and more. They get sick and die. They did not catch many caribou at the crossing this year. It was even worse than last year when so few came to the island. The cold, wet weather kept all the caribou on the mainland this year. Now they are hungry people and getting sicker.”
“Yes, I have caught no caribou since the spring. I will go to Boothia when there is enough snow to make houses. I will hunt for winter skins over there.” replied Agayuq.
“Yes, many people are saying that. Kikitarjuk is not a good place this year.”
“What will the white people do for food?” asked Agayuq.
“Some have already gone. They were seen at Tikinuq. People say they will go to the Fish River to live this winter, but I don’t think so. There is little food there in the winter, as you know. I think more will die.”
“Aliktuq and his family say they will go to the ship before it sinks and recover some of the wood from it. If all the whitemen are gone and if it’s still there in the spring, I will go too. The wood would make a better sled that I could use to visit the whalers the Netsilikmiut speak about at Repulse Bay.
“Ah, yes, that would be an interesting trip. To hunt whales, that would be very good!”

Ilatsiak - 50 - A Sense of Belonging

2007-05-23T13:35:00.000-07:00

Fishing was an important part of the summer season’s work especially with Qayak’s people. David remembered one time in particular when they had first arrived and he wasn’t well known to many people, everyone had been working on the fish weir a little ways below one of the final sets of huge canyon falls in the river. It was a happy time and the fishing was good. He was unaware that his affection for Qayak was well known among the various families at the weir. As the men and women worked together to rebuild the stone pens in which the fish would be trapped, there was the usual splashing and pushing and jostling that went with the work. The water was cold and the rocks very slippery underfoot. It happened, that he and Qayak arrived together, at the same place in the wall to dump their rocks. David had his mind on Qayak, watching her every move, day-dreaming that she was so cute and now his family. Suddenly, he felt himself being pushed from behind, sliding towards the water. Then he was being lifted up and literally thrown like a helpless char into the pool! What was happening! Another body splashed down beside him! He heard the scream, Qayak was soaking wet beside him. Before either was able to get up and get to shore, people crowded into the pool with their fishing harpoons and began proding them just like they would try to catch the fish! Meanwhile everyone was laughing at them and splashing them.
“Throw them both on the beach together!” someone yelled.
Then another added, “Yes, let’s skin them and leave them to dry in the sun like dried fish!” So without any hesitation, the hapless couple was stripped bare and laid on the grass beside the stream. At first David was angry to be treated so roughly, but Qayak’s laughter quickly let him know it was a rite of passage, their acceptance into the community of familes. There was no privacy in this little world!
Qayak grabbed her bag and ran off as soon as she saw a chance to get away and hide. For his part and to pay them back for their silliness, David paraded around naked while he carefully lay out their clothes to dry on the willow bushes. Then he went looking for Qayak and offered her a caribou skin to wrap around herself while from a perch on the smooth rocks high above the river they watched the fishermen below work the weir. Fish after fish was plucked out of the pools and tossed to the women and children waiting on the shore. They were quickly gutted and turned inside out before being laid out to dry in the sunshine.
The incident that day changed much for the new couple as they began to make their life together in the small community. After all that had happened to him during the past few years, he felt very close to these people and decided to work hard to do whatever he could to help not just his own family, but also these people around him. In the background he sensed a feeling of being apart from these people because of where he’d come from, while simultaneously feeling a closeness one would naturally expect to have among among people you’d grown up with.

Ilatsiak - 49 - The Fishing Weir

2007-05-19T14:38:00.000-07:00

David now knew most of the Utkuhikhalingmiut who lived near the big Fish River. Qayaq’s family family was related to this group, although they tended to wander further to the north, east and west than the usually more sedentary Utku’miut. This particular time, returning from the long inland hunt for caribou after leaving the camp where he’d seen Crozier and Asham, he was nervous. It had been with some of these people that Crozier and Asham had spent the previous winter and that worried David. During the hunt, David wondered what stories they would have to tell about the expedition and he was anxious to learn their news.
The hunt had not gone well. For some unknown reason, it had been hard to find caribou in any of the usual areas. People who’d been hunting further north along the coast told them the caribou had not come right to the coast, not had they crossed over the sea to summer on King William Island as they usually did. Very few were found at the usual river crossing points. It was an anxious time for everyone worried about obtaining good skins in order to make winter clothing. Without these skins, collected in August and September, the winter would be hard and cold for everyone, particularly the older people and children.
Finally, after much travel and long days of hunting, hungrily wandering the vaste stretches of hilly tundra, sufficent skins were collected and the group returned to the river mouth to join their Utku’miut friends and relatives. Everyone told stories that they too had not found it easy to obtain good skins this year. The lengthening days were spent discussing this difficulty and the reasons for it, but no good reasons could be found, but at least now David and his family could relax and prepare for the coming of winter.
• • •
David had become increasingly fond of Qayaq. Her round face, quick darting eyes and the flash of her brilliant white teeth, marked her as a a beauty. He would often catch her staring quietly peeking at him. When he’d catch her staring, they would both break into laughter and talk about how much they’d changed from the children they had once been only a short while ago when they’d first met.
They sometimes recalled that evening on King William Island when as the camp busied itself with food preparation and other chores, they had slipped out and met quietly. They had walked out into the darkness and found a sheltered place where they could be alone for the very first time.
Returning the next day, separately, nothing was said to them about what they had done. In fact, David was secretly pleased that no one knew his intentions. He hoped that would give him some time to get to know Qayak before making any commitments. Once the news was out, he was sure that his life would change considerably. It meant, usually, that Qayak would follow him and his family on their trek back to their wintering grounds. However, Qayak’s brother, Tulugak had died in an accident during the summer, leaving her mother and younger brother with only Kavaayuq to hunt for them, thus putting a strain on extended family members to provide for them, something they were willing to do, but knowing there was little chance of any reciprocation. David’s arrival into Qayaq’s family had brought considerable relief, especially to her father who now had someone to share the hunting burden with.
Thus David began his new life following the Utku’miut people on their annual rounds rather than his own. Becoming a married man also brought him status and a voice in the camp. People started to listen to his advice and at times sought him out when his opinion was needed.
Qayak turned out to be a particularly skillful and resourceful young lady. No one had more elaborate and fancier clothing than her family and particularly the parka she suddenly produced for David. Her ability to match furs for colour and to sew thin strips of white fur to make borders along the brown fur edges was remarkable and seldom seen today. The stiches on her waterproof boots were so tiny they were nearly invisible. Long before the boots would leak, the soles had been worn through and had to be replaced with new one made from bearded seal skin.

Ilatsiak - 48 - Crozier's Escape

2007-05-16T13:43:00.000-07:00

The others followed and Qayaq began to prepare a place to eat for David and the strangers inside their tent. Seated around the food, David noted that Crozier settled quickly into eating the food, although Asher picked here and there at the fish, ignoring the caribou closer to him.
“There is a river further upstream which leads almost to Hudson’s Bay,” David began. “but it is a long way to go. I have been there once following the caribou. It will lead you to another river which empties into a huge lake which flows into the Bay. There are Inuit there, but I don’t know them. There are no white people over there that I know of. I don’t think you should go there.”
“How are we to get home, then?” Crozier asked.
“I have heard of white people coming from Repulse Bay, only a few years ago. That may be the way to go, back the way you came and then eastwards along the coast. I don’t know for sure, but I’ve heard about people going that way.”
“We have also heard about white people in that area, or at Igloolik where I wintered with Parry, but people were afraid to take us there. You are our only hope, David. We don’t have the strength to last out another winter like this past one. We need to get home.” Crozier was clearly a spent man. David could tell. He would never make it home no matter which way he ventured. It was simply too far and the season too late. They would get trapped along the way by a winter storm.
“Where are the other expedition members, sir?” David kept using language remembered from being on the Erebus, but which seemed to be out of place now. “Are any still alive?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it. We have seen no one. The Terror went to the bottom last summer. We tried once to sail one of the Erebus’s boats back to Terror Bay, but the winds and ice prevented our getting very far, then we lost the boat when we stopped to hunt. They may have been able to get her out this past summer. The old Erebus was nearly free of the ice the last we saw of her. Fitzjames was to sail her west if he could. He was to wait for our hunting party to return, but, of course, we never did. We couldn’t without our boat. He probably thought us dead like the others and left. I hope so. If he makes it to England, he’ll probably become a hero while we’re left rotting in this God awful wasteland.”
“I hope so, sir. It would be what he wanted to accomplish. He often spoke that this trip would set him up and he could retire from the sea. But you should wait until next year to get to Repulse Bay...”
Crozier was edgy and becoming more and more upset with the lack of a clear offer of help. David recognized this from the early days of the expedition. He recalled the arguments with Franklin and the constant pushing for action that Crozier had shown on numerous occasions. These traits had not left him. “Well, Asher, we will stay the night here with Mr Young and push on south in the morning, with or without him. Damn foolish to remain here. Back went up this river in late August and we can too. Probably meet the rescue party around the next bend!”
Sure enough Crozier made his departure the next morning. Qayaq loaded his pack with as much dried caribou and fish as she was able to find among the families at the camp. It wasn’t much, but David knew it would prolong their lives a few days longer. Perhaps Crozier was right. Maybe there was a rescue party looking for them and this river that Back had travelled down might be a possible route for rescuers to use. It led into the country where the Hudson’s Bay Company maintained supply posts and was mentioned more than once as one of the possible escape routes to be used if anything happened to the ships that first winter they had been beset.
Watching the two men work their way along the edge of the lake, David turned to Qayaq, “We must leave this place. I don’t want to be rescued!” he laughed when she looked at him quizically, wondering what he was going to be rescued from. It soon became clear that others in the camp were glad to be rid of the two sailors. Their edginess and quickness to anger was upsetting the harmony that was so important to life in the camp. Still, the next day, David noticed that several families had found reasons to move. Within a few days, the camp was deserted with little indication of where the people living there had gone.
Two weeks later Crozier and Asham stumbled back into the camp finding no one there. Searching for food, they found a sealskin pouch of dried fish which David had hidden in case they returned, but there was little else.

Ilatsiak - 47 - Strangers!

2007-05-12T18:13:00.000-07:00

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.

Ilatsiak - 46 - A New Beginning

2007-04-30T16:48:00.000-07:00

The need to take advantage of the spring seal hunt prevented David from spending more time searching for the whereabouts of his former ship-mates. Intead, he kept his ears open for any news that visiting hunters might bring in to the camp from time to time. There was little to be had, in fact. It was like the ships had disappeared into the ice and their crews along with them. The west coast was not an area favourite by people as the hunting was poor in the heavy ice which prevailed there. Instead, most people kept to the eastern and southern shores when ice was thinner and smoother and seals were plentiful. David thought less and less of their fate, the more the days went by and he kept busy hunting and caching food.
Things took a turn a few weeks later when David and Agayuq met up with Qayaq and her family. Hunting that winter had been good for them and well supplied with items to trade and stoies to tell, they had made the crossing over the sea ice to King William Island earlier than usual. Qayaq’s mother, Assita had heard that her mother was ailing and that was another reason for travelling to the island early. Agayuq laughed when he heard that rumour. “Your mother’s never been better, Assita! She’s sick because you never visit!” They all enjoyed the joke as they ended their hunt for the day and got ready to return to their camp of snow houses on the shore a few miles away.
Along the way, Qayaq and David got re-acquainted, telling each other all the stories of things that had happened while they had been apart. When Agayuq over-heard David mentioning the stories of the ships and the crew, he quietly came up with a plan. Later that evening while out tending to a dog with a sore leg, he brought up his idea quietly to Kavaayuq. Together they both saw the advantages in it and agreed to it. When Kavaayuq and family returned to the mainland in a couple of weeks, David would go with them as Qayaq’s husband. Kavaayuq had not promised her to anyone as yet and Assita was getting anxious that she marry. Agayuq wanted David away from the ships. If they left, he might change his mind and leave with them. Agayuq and Maneejaq didn’t want that to happen, so getting him far away and married to Qaya was the perfect solution for both families!
Almost exactly three weeks later, David found himself driving a sled alongside of Kavaayuq. Agayuq had given him four dogs and his old sled. Kavaayuq had given his daughter. A new life was beginning, an exiting one with someone he cared about. He’d spend the spring on the mainland and then return for the mid-summer fishing season and caribou hunt with Agayuq and Maneeyaq’s family. At least that was the plan...

Ilatsiak - 45

2007-04-27T16:22:00.000-07:00

When David arrived back in Agayuq’s camp no one was about. Entering the snowhouse he discovered everyone asleep as if it was the middle of the night. Slipping out of his clothes, he climbed into his customary spot against the snow wall and closed his eyes. After a few minutes he heard Agayuq’s voice talking to him in a low whisper.
“You have returned, but things are not well...”
David opened his eyes and looked at the man lying a few feet away from him under the blankets of caribou skins. “The ship people are dying everywhere, Agayuq. Something terrible is happening.”
“I have heard this too.” Agayuq stared at David with unaccustomed frankness. “Other people have told me this, but I was shy to tell you. Last winter when we were in Boothia, people visited and told your mother the ship people were not well. They said that some had died even last summer, but I don’t know.”
“You should tell me these things. Maybe we could have helped them.”
“Yes I should have told you, but how can we help the ship people? They are not like us. They don’t live our way or eat our food like you do. They fight among themselves.”
“Still, they are people. Maybe they could change...” David whispered back.
“Yes, that is so. But they could be dangerous to us. This is not an easy land to live in. Besides, we believe that you were given to us, unlike them. We are too few to help the ship people. They are so many, and many people now fear them because they are sick and fight among themselves...” There was a pause. Agayuq was thinking. Suddenly he looked up and staring ahead he said, “They will soon be gone. People are saying the ones still not sick are using their boats to move all their supplies to the south coast. They are making trips back and forth pulling their boats on big sleds. Maybe they have already gone. No one knows for sure.”
David looked at him in shock. Left, already? Had he been left behind by the expedition? Was his fate sealed now forever? It looked that way. Maybe it was best, he didn’t really know, but he felt his heart freeze for a moment. It seemed so final.
David closed his eyes. Agayuq was right. The expedition members would not accept help from the Inuit anymore than they’d come looking for him again. He remembered clearly the comments and jeers made about the people they had encountered in Greenland during the transfer of supplies. The remarks about superiority of the English, how filthy and foolish the Greenlanders could be. They were called ‘savages’. Then too, there was the talk from the officers belittling anyone who wished to adopt ‘native’ methods of travel and survival. There seemed to be so little common ground. He could still hear Shanks boasting of what he would do if any dirty Eskimos showed up at the depot of supplies they were supposed to guard. He was very graphic in his desciption as if he were speaking about animals, not people. Even if Agayuq and others went and offered help it would be scofted at and they would be rebuffed. It was pointless. Perhaps what he had seen was not as bad as it seemed. Most of the expedition was probably safe and sound on board the ships and the men he had seen were perhaps only a scouting party which had somehow got into trouble, or maybe they had got trapped in a storm while on an exploratory mission from the ships. Still, it was a horrible fate which seemed so pointless given how well equiped the ships were and how close to their goal they were. A few more miles and they’d be free to sail away to the west and the Pacific. Surely the stories Agayuq had heard were wrong or at least confused.

Ilatsiak - 44

2007-04-18T10:23:00.000-07:00

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.

Ilatsiak - 43

2007-04-10T07:15:00.000-07:00

His thoughts returned to Goodsir. Where had he been going? To the Back’s Fish River? Why, was food running low? But how could it be? There had been so much... Had there been food at the camp? He couldn’t recall seeing any of the famous red tins. Where had any of them been going? Where were the ships? Perhaps the story of the Terror sinking was true. That would help to explain some things. But the Terror had survived even the Antarctic ice fields which he heard were much heavier and more distructive than anything found in the Arctic. How could the Terror have sunk? These must be the remains of the men who, someone said, had been seen dragging a boat near Washington Bay. People had waited for these men a few days later, but they had not come and so the people had left thinking the white people had returned to their ships. David realised he had not believed that story, but maybe that story was true after all. These sailors must have been in trouble too. They certainly seemed very scary to those who had seen them. Maybe they had just taken too long to arrive and the people had left too soon. But how were they to know? And where were all the others people from the ships?
David knew that during their first winter beset in the ice Crozier and the other officers on the Terror had argued for hunting parties to visit the Fish River during the coming spring. Shanks had even volunteered to go with them. He considered himself a good hunter and had bragged to Fairholme that had he a gun, he could feed the whole party easily on their trip along the coast. Suddenly, that seemed so long ago.
David’s dogs pulled silently on. The runners hissed over the cold snow now that the sun had moved down close to the western horizon, only scraping the underlying stones now and then as he took short-cuts overland on his journey eastwards. The horror inside him began to subside somewhat when he saw a seal bob it head through a tide rip ahead to the left of the sled. Leaving the dogs anchored by the overturned sled, David crawled slowly to the edge of the ice and waited. He began to scratch on the ice with his knife, a old trick that Agayuk had taught him to attract a naturally curious seal. When the seal cautiously lifted his head out of the water, David was ready. He lay still, almost a seal himself. The animal swam closer to inspect the noise. David’s arm made a sudden movement. The harpoon found its mark and David swung around to the jerk on the line. The seal was his. He pulled it from the water and dragged it towards the sled. The dogs were straining on their traces now. They had the seal’s scent and their hunger returned in stength. Cutting the animal into chunks, he spread the pieces out in the snow, taking only a portion of the liver and the two shoulder blades for himself. He then let the dogs at the food. In moments, there was little remaining on the ice. Just the circle of blood stained snow and countless paw tracks.

Ilatsiak - 42

2007-04-06T17:16:00.000-07:00

David watched as the snow beneath the sled runners passed underneath, the only features were the footprints of the dogs pulling up ahead. The snow itself now seemed to be covered with death. Grey, cold, damp death.
David sat rocking gently with the motion of the sled as it made its way over the wind blown snow hummocks, his mind a blank, almost in a stupor, then the dogs made a sudden change in pace. Realising they must have detected something, David shook himself alert. Raising in a single fluid movement as he halted the dog sled, he slowly came to his feet and stood, and looked at the scene just slightly above him on the little island ahead of the dogs. It might have been a sleeping camp, but he knew it wasn’t. People had already been here and now he understood what it was that they had tried to keep from him. It was about what they had found. It was about the death of the men from the ships. However, this place didn’t match the stories he had heard. Even with the snow cover, David saw there were no ridges behind the tents, no little ponds where ducks had been killed. In the stories he had heard, there was a low stone wall built by the shipmen, where they had hid as they shot ducks or geese landing on the ponds. This place was clearly an island like Toonoonee, but this was not Toonoonee. This place was too far to the east. David had never heard stories of the ship people coming here to this place so far to the east. He began to get excited. Perhaps the people here could explain why Goodsir and the others had been walking southward.
On the sandy knoll a little back from shore he could see their two large tents, one beside the other. The three uprights on one were still standing, but it appeared that the ridge pole on the other had been taken down, leaving only the two uprights remaining, frozen into the ground with the tent draped over them. The center part of the tent was flapping in the light wind that continued to blow, left over from the previous day’s storm. On the wide open top of the island, only about 30 feet perhaps above the sea surface, the tents’ inhabitants had found nothing to offer protection from the wind when they had been set up.
This year, for some reason, spring had been a time of contradictions. Nothing seemed to have gone the way one might have expected it should. His Inuit friends and family had complained bitterly that it was fate, that perhaps taboos had been broken, but whatever it was it couldn’t be helped and one must just make do. Perhaps a shaman would come soon and tell them what to do, but in the meantime, food was scarce, the weather was either too wet, too cold, too foggy and always miserable.
As the sled got closer to the shore, David began to dread what he would find. He had seen no one outside the tents nor any activity of any kind. He slowly moved up the little slope into the campsite. The low mounds in the snow hid nothing. In places the snow cover was not complete and the dark cloth of navy overcoats could be seen. A couple of men were lying dead, unburied in the stark white snow. Opening the flap on the only standing tent revealed about five others, in their sleeping sacks, also dead. David looked down on them. In a gruesome way, they were seemingly asleep. They seemed mostly crew members from from the Terror, but all were people he had known these past four years, but ghastly replicas of the men they had once been. Their faces were grizzled, thin, their lips black from once bleeding gums and hemorrhaging. Two slept contorted, twisted together in awful shapes, as if they had died in a wrestling match. The others just lay there as if they hadn’t noticed anything going on. Had they died first? Their clothes were perhaps the biggest shock, all tattered and makeshift and ill-fitting. They seemed to have been making do with borrowed items which did not fit. Why? How could this be? David had never ceased to be amazed at the vaste quantity of clothing the expedition carried on the ships. What had happened to it all? Why were these men wearing old blanket cloth, all dirty and ragged, wrapped around their legs and over their boots? Everything he saw just brought up more questions and no answers.
David let the tent flap drop. Outside, he was swept by a cold feeling of horror. It was too much to believe that all this had happened, especially without him knowing about it. How had the dream of the Northwest Passage had come to this? He felt himself stagger backwards, his foot catch on a hard-packed snowdrift, and then fall down, landing roughly on his side. His eyes opened to another sight, a face mostly eaten away, probably by a wandering fox. Scrambling to his feet, David slipped, crawled, then ran to his sled. Giving the runner a good nudge with his soft sealskin booted foot, he murmmered a low command to the dogs and with the crack of the whip turned them and returned eastwards again along his tracks, but he may as well have been sledding to nowhere. What he had seen was worse, far worse than the stories people had been telling each other when they thought he wasn’t listening. How had they all died? Why? When last he had heard about the crews, he remembered Pocock saying that things had been deteriorating, true, even fighting and arguing with the officers, but he had not mentioned anything to compare with all this death. Of course that had been almost a year ago and much had obviously changed since then. The situation at the campsite was beyond him. Had both crews all died? If not, where had the others gone? David tried to remember how many bodies he had seen, but it was impossible to even quess with many covered with snow. Maybe there were thirty or fifty, perhaps more.

Ilatsiak - 41

2007-03-01T12:46:00.000-08:00

David ran to him and crouching over, turned him over to see who it was.
“Oh my God....Mr Goodsir! What...are you...”
The man was dead. His face was bearly recognizable, the blackened lips pulled back showing his long teeth and receeding gums, his skin darkened as if by boot polish, but more likely from the brilliant effects of the Spring sun.
A cold wave passed through David. He let the body down again into its snowy impression. It was still possible to see that several men has passed this way, their footprints were visible for the most part. It was easy to see that wherever they were headed, they were in trouble as not a single path was straight, but rather each one staggered left and right in a zig-zag pattern.
What to do? David felt the hot tears run down his cheeks. Of them all, the good and the bad, Goodsir had been a friend and he had always felt perhaps there was a future for them once this trip had been completed. They had talked about being back in Scotland and of some of the things they might do together once they had returned. But that was finished now. Goodsir was dead.
The tracks in the snow led southward across the bay to the headland on the mainland beyond. David went to retrieve his dogs and returned, rolled Goodsir’s body onto the sled and then turned around and headed north. The tracks of the ship’s men wandered here and there, seldomly coming together. It was almost as if they had been trying to stay apart from each other, yet had been afraid to be totally on their own. Now and then he came across discarded items in the snow; two cups, a notebook, a spoon. He picked up each item as he found them.
The sun lowered itself into a grey bank of cloud just above the western horizon casting the land into shadow. The tracks became harder to follow now as they disappeared in the failing light, but David let the dogs keep them in view. As they reached the land, the winds started to pick up and he began to look for a spot to build a snow house. He could feel the weather changing. It would be best to be protected inside a warm house out of the wind once it really got blowing.
As he lowered the last block of snow into the keyhole at the top of the snow dome, David could feel the rising wind gusts trying to grab the block from his hands. He knelt down to the level of the floor and cut out a door and crawled through it to the outside. Circling the little dome of snow, just large enough for two men and some storage, David began to cut slices of snow off the edges of the blocks and slide them into the cracks where they came together, sealing any holes in the house walls, That done, he turned to look at the dogs and knew they were hungry. They hadn’t had the seal he remembered he had been stalking. He had no choice. He dragged Goodsir’s stiff frozen body over to the snow house and laid him in the snow trench where he had cut out the snow blocks for the house. He would have to bury him in the trench for the night. But the dogs watched his every move. It was no use. He knew what they were thinking: they were hungry. David pushed the body of Goodsir through the opening in the snow house and returned again outside for his caribou sleeping skins. He would cover Goodsir with them and sleep in his clothes. He wished he had caught a seal to feed the dogs. He could tell they were in a bad mood.
The wind blew all night and right into the afternoon of the following day. David spent most of the time sleeping. There was nothing else to do and besides the recent experiences had exhausted him both mentally and physically.When he finally woke up and decided to look out, the storm had passed, but the day was overcast and dull. Living with the corpse of his friend had not been pleasant and David found himself fitfull and uneasy. His mind kept asking questions that he couldn’t answer. What had happened? What had happened to change Goodsir’s appearance so much? The blackened lips, the missing teeth? Where were these men going? Should he have followed the prints heading south? Why had they left the ships? It was obvious the men were sick. Goodsir was unwashed and filthy. His face had been sunburned badly in the harsh sunlight. Was that scurvy? David had heard people talk about the dreaded desease, bit had never actually seen anyone suffering from it.
He roused the dogs, but decided it best to leave Goodsir in the snowhouse until he spoke to Agayuq. Blocking the entrance, he made a small hole in the west wall. Having done that, David knew, no one would use it now. Even in his short stay among the Inuit, he had seen death come to their camp several times, and knew the customs of the people when someone died.
He headed along the coast just below the ridge which ran overlooking the sea ice hoping to catch a glimpse of any other men. Maybe they could tell him what had been happening. As he search the coast line and the hours passed, he saw not a single person, not a trace of anyone having been along his route homeward.

Ilatsiak - 40

2007-02-26T13:13:00.000-08:00

Once the ships’ crews were ashore, together with the materials and supplies they would require for the coming months, the job of transporting everything southward began. As the weather and snow conditions in late April were perfect for moving supplies with the least amount of trouble, it was decided to off-load as much as possible in the event that the ships were crushed while they were away at Terror Bay and the Fish River mouth. A depot would be established at Victory Point as well as a message of explanation should any search party happen this way, something which was not felt to be likely. Surely at this time any search party would be combing the coast of Alaska and not have thought to come this far to the east.
Filling the boats to the gunnels with items didn’t normally pose much of a hauling problem for fit men as the boat-laden sled loads pulled relatively easily over the hard frozen snow in the Spring. The land along the west coast of King William Island being very flat was another help as no major hills would have to be crossed on their way south. With a little luck, the officers were confident that all the needed materials would be at the proposed first encampment site at Terror Bay on the southwest shore by the time open water arrived sometime in June. From there, the party would remain and hunt for caribou which has previously been seen in that area. When open water arrived in July, they would divide into the two groups. The first, Fitzjames’ Passage party, would head westward looking for leads in the ice large enough to permit the ships to sail southward, or failing that they would continue on in order to reach an outpost of the Hudson’s Bay Company perhaps near the mouth of MacKenzie’s river or the whaling camp on Hershel Island.
The second, Crozier’s party, would head towards Back’s Fish River to establish their semi-permanent hunting camp. There they would stay to either await their rescue or if their health returned sufficiently, they would head south via Back’s River taking the same route Capt George Back had taken 14 years previously.
To a man, everyone was finally in good spirits. After sitting and grumbling in the ice bound ships for nearly two years eating food which was getting worse by the day, finally something was happening. While it wasn’t the trip everyone had imagined when they had set out from London, at least the expedition was one its way southward and hopefully westward once again! The renewed morale would also be good for everyone’s health. The previous winter had brought with it more deaths than expected, especially among the officers.

• • •
David had tried it a few times but had never once been successful. This spring he would begin learning all over again. It seemed to be so easy for his father Agayuq, but of course he had had years of practice going back to childhood.
“That’s what I need, I guess. Years of practice...”
David could see the dark object lying on the gleaming snow of the Spring sea ice. A seal, lying next to its breathing hole. He got off the sled and settled the five dogs so they wouldn’t want to follow him as he carefully made his way towards the sleeping seal. He checked his harpoon, making sure the head was on securely. The last time the thongs holding it in place had been too lose and it had not penetrated the seal before twisting off pre-maturely allowing the seal to plunge unharmed into the safety of its hole in the ice. He readied his white sealskin screen between the cross-pieces of precious wood. This would allow him to get much closer before he adopted his seal-mimicking act which would allow him to get to within harpooning distance. To bring home his first seal would greatly please Agayuq, especially as Davidee, as they called him now, was out hunting on his own for the first time.
He cautiously peered over his white screen and checked again. The tiny black spot hadn’t moved. It was still there. He turned the sled on its side and began walking, the shield out in front of him, hiding his body. Every now and then he stopped and knelt down, controlling his breathing was important. The seal hadn’t moved. He began to approach it again. Its shape was becoming clearer. It seemed quite large and very dark against the snow. His mind began to question what kind of seal it might be. Surely a ringed seal, but it was so dark. It should be a light grey, surely, having been in the sun for this long.
David was close enough to begin making his final approach. He lay down on his side and began to imitate a seal lying on the ice, alternately pretending to doze, head down, and then raise his head for a look around. As the seal did the same thing then David would wiggled closer and closer. The seal remained still. Still? David realised the animal hadn’t moved. Not once. Not even to look around. Was it already dead? Had a bear killed it and left it? Something seemed odd about this seal, but what?
He watched it and the more he watched, the more certain he was that something was not right. Then he noticed something like a flap in the middle of its body seemed to lift up each time the breeze picked up. “What could that be?” David wondered. Slowly David rose up behind his screen for a better look. Then he stood up and dropped the screen. The object wasn’t a seal at all, it was a man. A man dressed in a dark blue Naval coat!

Ilatsiak - 39

2007-02-24T13:13:00.000-08:00

Crozer gave the order to abandon the two ships in mid-April. The situation on board had reached the point that the decision was inevitable if the remaoinong men were to survive the situation in which the expedition found itself. It was now clear that they were trapped by the ice. The only escape was to sledge the ships’ small boats overland to open water and from there to make a final decision on escaping directly southwards up Back’s River, or heading westward towards Alaska. The day chosen to begin the move off the ships turned out to be one of brilliant sunshine during the last few days of April, 1848.
The move was done after much debate and arguing among the remaining officers. Sir John had been dead now for nearly ten months and after two winters locked in the ice in more or less the same spot. It was abunduntly clear to everyone that the ships were eventually going to be crushed by the grinding of the massive piles of sea ice long before they would make it to the open water to the south. The various exploratory and subsequent hunting trips made during the two summers had confirmed open water existed only a short distance to the south of some islands at the bottom of Victoria Strait.
The plan that had been finally decided upon was to establish a semi-permanent camp in Terror Bay on the south coast of King William Island and as soon as possible a group would go on to hunt and fish at the mouth of the Great Fish River, a place extolled for its fish and game by George Back on his visit there in 1834. Here fresh food could be obtained so the men could regain some of their lost morale and strength. The less able remaining men would stay with Captain Crozier either in Terror Bay if it proved adequate and the hunting was good, or failing that they would make for the Back River in several easy stages. If the ships remained frozen in he would send a party up the Great Fish River either before Autumn or, failing that, in the following summer with the hopes of travelling to the post at Fort Reliance and sending a relief party from there.
Another plan was hatched that as soon as the ice broke in Terror Bay, twenty of the most fit would make a dash westwards in two of the specially lightened ships’ launches with Commander Fitzjames in charge. If, by some good fortune the ships were freed by the ice during the coming summer season, they would be re-manned and sailed westward in pursuit of Fitzjames’ launches and by doing so complete the Northwest Passage. It was also agreed that Fitzjames would remain with the whalers at Hershel Island as long as possible into the Fall or until the ships arrived. He would also attempt to send a relief party eastwards at his first opportunity. If the ships failed to arrive, he would leave with the last of the whalers, the assumption being that the expedition had taken the Back River route southward to safety.
Francis Pocock’s suggestion of convincing the Inuit to take them to Repulse Bay was dismissed out of hand as being impractical given the distance and the already well known difficulty of overland travel in these climes. Besides there was no assurances that white people and ships could be found in Repulse Bay even if they could get there. Furthermore, it was unlikely that the local Inuit had the skills needed to make a trip to Repulse Bay. The best plan was clearly to relie on their own self-sufficiency and trust in their proven arctic skills.

Ilatsiak - 38

2007-02-16T13:14:00.000-08:00

Fall came in ernest during the next few weeks with cold winds and biting snow and sleet. The narrow strip of water separating King William Island from the mainland to the south began to freeze over. Each day the ice grew outward from the shore and became thicker and stronger. By late September, only areas of water with the strongest currents were still open. Qajaq and her family would be collecting their belongings and beginning the long trek southward to the mouth of the Fish River for the winter.
David found himself trapped in a way, wishing he had been able to follow Qayaq and her family, but also knowing he should really stay with the family he had become attached to and over all of these thoughts, of course, wondering if he had made an error not reporting back for duty on board the Erebus. In spite of the obvious benefits of living with Agayuq and his family, he was a member of the ship’s crew and was expected to perform various duties. He didn’t consider himself a deserter when he first joined up with Agayuq, but the longer he remained away from the ships, the more impossible it was to return to them. He would be considered a deserter for sure by now, and David knew that punishment would be certain upon his return. At the same time, this new life seemed like the better choice while the ship was temporarily prevented from progressing towards its final destination.
Looking back, David was grateful for the kindness of Sir John looking out for him the way he had, right from the onset of the voyage. He would be stuck on the ship doing the usual round of boring duties had he not say to it that David get out and help Fairholme at the Magnetic Observatory. The news that Sir John had died still stung him, and then Pocock’s tales of widespread illness, the constant grumbing he had seen over the bad food and the griping of shipmates didn’t make the life aboard the ships sound very attractive. Things had changed a lot since their first winter-over. It was obvious, he had made the right choice to stay with his adopted family on King William Island. If he had to for some reason, he could probably return to the Erebus when it became useful to do so. He could make up a story about being held up. Now that fall was here again, that opportunity would not likely arise until the following summer, at the earliest, and then only if the ships worked themselves free of the ice.
* * *
Sadly David watch Qajaq and her family depart over the now frozen strait to the mainland. They had become close to each other and promised to meet up again the following summer at Amitsoq if they could. If not David was determined to make the trip south to the Fish River where her family would spend their winter.
He thought about little else that winter. Of course, there was the usual hunting to be done several times a week in the fall. In the dead of winter the family depended mostly on their cache of fish and seals caught during the summer. The caribou hunt at the crossing point had gone well and the whole family slowly got new winter clothing thanks to the sewing efforts of his adopted mother.
As the light returned and the days lengthened in the spring David and Agayuq returned to Boothia to hunt caribou once again. This year they had sighted a polar bear and Agayuq let the dogs chase it and eventually they cornered it in a small snow filled rock canyon. The bear turned and tried swatting the dogs, but they kept their distance. When David and Agayuq caught up to the dogs, the bear was obviously tiring as it fended off the dogs in the deep snow. Watching for his chance, Agayuq slowly moved closer to the bear and with a sudden movement, hurled his harpoon right at the bear's chest as it stood up. David watched, grouched down on one knee a few paces back with his own spear, but then froze as the bear knocked the oncoming harpoon aside and then lunged at Agayuq. In another fluid movement, Agayuq turned, grabbed the harpoon from David's grasp and taking a pace forward pushed the butt end into the snow. The harpoon head took the bear's weight as it threw itself over the dogs at Agayuq. As the impaled bear died, the dogs tore into its fur and Agayuq beat them off with the handle of his dog team whip. David was astonished by what he had seen. He had to be the bravest act he had ever witnessed, yet Agayuq calmly set about sharpening his knife as though it was just another chore in a long boring day.
When they got home a few weeks later, David was even more impressed that Agayuq said nothing about the bear kill. He let others slowly discover the bear skin and then shyly admitted that, yes, they had 'seen a bear' while hunting and were lucky enough to be able to bring it home.
The news at home was unsettling once again. People were once more telling stories about seeing Kabloonat on the move. It seems they were moving boats down the coast and setting up a couple of big camps. In the north, near the ships they had offloaded vast quantities of things from the ships and had them piled on the snow covered beach. Clearly, something was changing and David was again anxious about what he ought to do: stay or leave?

Ilatsiak - 37

2007-02-04T18:41:00.000-08:00

At Amitsoq lake there were sometimes stories told about white people, kabloonat they were called, how they would fight and shout and fire their guns. These began to bother David because people were obviously frightened. Then, more or less by accident David discovered that many of these stories were quite old. They described events on the mainland, far to the south of King William Land.
More out of curiosity now than anything else he found himself thinking he should return to the ships to check for himself what was happening. The last time he had asked if the Inuit might return to the ships, David was surprised to hear Agayuq say only a sort of maybe in the evasive way he had discovered these people sometimes had of giving only a very non-committed sort of answer. Were they saying, don’t ask me that again, because I cannot give you the answer you want to hear? People were definitely being evasive. It was nearly impossible to learn if there really was trouble brewing at the ships? He couldn't discover if they still at the north end of the island or if they had they somehow moved closer to where they were going. Whether Agayuq had heard something that David hadn’t picked up in the usual gossip that went around from tent to tent was hard to discover. In fact, asking questions only made it worse as he seemed to get shut off from them wherever the subject came up. It was as if the topic was a taboo, an unmentionable and people just ignored him when he brought it up.
David continued to listen quietly to the stories however and pieced together that while people seldom visited the northern area where the ships lie frozen into the ice, even to hunt in times gone by, they were even more reluctant than ever to go there now. In fact, the whole of the island’s west coast seemed to be off-limits to everyone for some reason. He was aware that any place known to harbour possible problems and difficulties was a place to avoid in the peoples view. In the end, David decided that groups of men from the ships had indeed been seen walking down the west coast, even as far as the crossing-over point to the mainland. They had been seen during the spring, pulling light sleds. Several times guns had also been heard as well. After that, the men returned to the ships. During the summer several other groups of men were seen hunting birds, but like the first time, no one had talked with them. People seemed to be afraid of them and it reminded David of the earlier stories he had heard of people being killed. For David, there was no question of his being able to travel alone in search of the ships. In the end he let that matter drop. That way, everyone seemed happier and whatever the rumours were about the ships and their crews, David would have to wait for more definite news, particularly about the ships moving further south.
In the meantime, although the decision had been made to leave for the southern coast, most people continued to linger and life continued. David and his friends became closer and closer. His attachment to Qayaq became greater and together they would steal secret glances at each other and now and then they began to spend some secret time together, although with so few places to go and the land providing such a flat expanse, there was little opportunity to be alone out of sight of others for long. It seemed as it even the largest rocks on the landscape were designed to be too small for a couple to hide behind!
David amazed everyone one warm day at the lake. Stripping to his underwear, he jumped into one of the shallow ponds which was by now fairly warm for the arctic. He then began swimming around, a feat he had learned early in life, but which was completely unknown to any of the onlookers. They simply stood on the shore watching, some in horror and others in wonder at how this swimming thing was possible. At one point, David dove under and swam some distance under-water, staying down for thirty seconds or so. The gathering on shore was sure he was dead and when he at last surfaced, bursts of laughter held forth and many people began stripping. They wanted to be able to perform this miracle as well. David could not even begin to teach so many the art of swimming all at once, but a few did manage to paddle a few strokes and were determined to improve their skills. Those who tried to replicate his under-water feat, found themselves spluttering and gasping for air. Everyone had fun splashing and playing about in the shallow water and many stayed in until the sun began to lose its warmth in the late afternoon and they retreated to look for their clothes now strung out all along the shore, thanks to the ones who only watched, but hadn’t gone in.
While the young people played, a number of elders huddled together in Agayuq’s tent asking themselves what might become of this new person in their midst, with his strange and mysterious abilities, especially now that news that men from the ships had been wandering southward. Some hunters travelling westward had heard people shooting geese around Terror Bay. Finally another story told how one of the ships had been crushed by the ice and then sank in Erebus Bay, but others denied this was true. Some people began talking about going to see if any wood remained they could use. In the end it was decided it was better to wait until Spring. By then the whitemen will probably all have gone away.

Ilatsiak - 36

2007-02-01T18:28:00.000-08:00

David removed his coat and tried to shake the wetness out of it before crawling into the tent. It seemed as wet after it’s shaking as before. Later in the morning, when he tried to put it on, it had frozen stiff. The weather had turned even colder and the rain became blinding snow once the wind began to pick up. Before mid-day a blizzard had begun to blow new snow across the sheets of ice now covering the land, making it almost impossible to even stand up on the slippery surface. The children had fun sliding in their furry parkas during the late morning, but Agayuk knew hungry times would be ahead for those people not camped close to their cached supplies. No one could hunt in conditions like these. He decided it was wise to head eastwards to be closer to the sea ice off the coast where seals might be out on the ice next to the breathing holes they keep open all winter. No matter how thick the ice became, the seals would stay near their holes. His fish caches would be closer too, just in case. Before the move, David considered finally discarding the last of his English clothing. In the end he couldn’t part with his coat and pants, but there seemed little point in keeping the rest any longer. He gave his mother, Maneejaq, the coat’s buttons and had her sew the front up to make an anorak-like jacket. She was always joking about how she wanted the shiny gold coloured buttons and now at last they were hers.
No one looked forward to the trek to the coast, but all knew it was a better place to look for food than their present camp inland. They would try not to grumble as they slipped and slid along.

* * *
The winter passed quickly for David. Unlike the previous winters on the Erebus, there was always something that had to be done living with Agayuq. He was a good provider for his family, spending much of his time out hunting and David soon found himself able to help as he was now the oldest, Aliktu and Kanguajuq the other children being only 4 and 1 years old. Maneejaq, his adopted mother, a happy jovial woman, probably in her late twenties, was ever helpful as well. David awoke one morning in early winter to find his old clothes missing. They’d been replaced silently by a full set of caribou skin clothes, inner and outer, as well as boots. He was astonished at this gift. He had seen her sewing, as she always did, but had no idea she was working on things for him.
Now he was equiped with these new clothes, it was assumed that he would accompany Agayuq out on the sea ice to hunt seals at their breathing holes. Even in skin clothing, as warm as they were, it was cold, silent work, but David learned the system quickly. Just before the sun disappeared for good, he made his first kill. He was treated to the usual rituals associated with this passage, although he had no mid-wife ‘mother’ to act for him. The whole ceremony was treated with lots of humour as everyone present knew how unusual the situation was. For David, it was yet another indication of how far he had distanced himself from the expedition and how close he now felt to these warm, welcoming people with whom he now made his life.
As the months passed by, he gained a certain amount of fame for being a good hunter. He made a trip over to Boothia in early spring, once the light returned. He traveled with Agajuq and two other men to hunt caribou. When they returned, they were grateful to have dogs to help transport the carcasses and skins. Their arrival home was a happy time for everyone as the diet of seal and fish was wearing more than a bit thin. They’d eaten nothing else since late fall, almost five months previously.

* * *
It was half way through the brief arctic summer, probably July or early August, when David and Agayuq’s family made it back again to the big lake called Amitsoq near the center of King William Island. He’d been with these people for over a year, he realised while walking past their old camp site where Fairholme had found him. On the way there, they had met up with several other family groups, who were already forming hunting parties to snare the caribou on the island, squeezing them into a funnel shaped trap where they might be taken more easily. In this way, the 30 or so people arrived at the lake laden with fresh meat and many skins suitable for use during the coming winter. Most were still thick with long winter fur and would be suitable for bedding and so on, but a few had shed enough of their old coat that the new summer fur was showing underneath and these the women began to work on. Making the under-parka was the first chore and was best made from the shortest fur. The heavier outer layer could wait for the August hides which had slightly longer, thicker fur. These would be the ones where all the talents of the seamstess's arts could be displayed, with the contrasting strips of fur patterns, the fancy edging frills and cold stopping fringes along the parka’s lower edges.
While walking about visiting and being shown off by his younger brother and sister, David entered the tent of Tulukaq’s family in order to have another peek at their pretty daughter sitting quietly behind her mother, softly chewing on a tiny piece of skin intended for a baby’s boot. He had never before thought of the prospects of finding an Inuk girl to befriend, but suddenly the idea was in his head and he found it stuck there, unable to be shaken away. Even the knowledge that the Erebus could soon be sailing away with him on board did nothing to rid this alluring girl from his thoughts.
In the meantime, his friends were off for another round of visiting, of fishing at one of the many weirs, racing each other over the tundra, or splashing in the warm waters of the shallow ponds which dotted the landscape near the lake. This time of fishing and socializing with the many Inuit groups from both Boothia and the mainland to the south was always a happy time for all, especially for those with love in mind.
As it happened, the cute girl - he had discovered her name was Qajaq - and her family were vaguely related to Agayuq. About two weeks after their arriving at the lake, it was decided that the two families would move further south and west on the island to look for caribou together. By now the caribou having dropped their young, where beginning to filter towards the narrows where once the sea was frozen, they would return to the mainland for the winter. It was a good time and place to hunt for furs for winter clothing and to cache some extra meat for the long winter ahead.

Ilatsiak - 35

2007-01-28T07:25:00.000-08:00

David woke. It was a new sound, a strange one, something hitting the roof of the skin tent. It was raining heavily. David rose and turned, coming to a sitting position under the caribou blankets. The inside of the tent was a quiet gloom, the only light was coming from the patches in the skin which had been scraped too thin and become translucent. The rain sounds seemed to increase, a regular pitter-patter which now and them turned into a rage of sound against the outside surface. It wanted to come inside and get everything wet. David sat there and listened, wondering whether it was worth getting his clothes on and going out to have a look. This was the first time he had seen real rain at all and here it was in early fall. In fact, it was highly unusual. Snow would be more like it, especially after the beautiful, cold, clear, sunny days of the past week or two.
Agayuk began waking up as well, stirred awake by the sounds outside. He turned and began his usual morning cough, pulling his long, black, stringy hair from his sleep-worn face, another standard morning routine. He then pulled himself from under the caribou skin he shared with his wife and, bare-naked, crawled along the ground to the hanging flap of leather which covered the entrance. Drawing it aside, he peered outside. As far as he could see, there was an overpowering whiteness, the snow beneath blending seamlessly into the clouds above. The illusion was made even more perfect by the fog which had come with the rain, which had begun to freeze as it hit the ground. The fog hung over the snow like a sullen dog, dripping wet and mean, something everyone would come to regret as the ice began to build up on everything.
David heard him mutter something, probably a curse of some sort. Rain and worse, the icy fog, meant the hunting would be useless today, not to mention making attempts at travelling awful as well. No, today it would be best to stay inside where one could at least be dry. He could hunt tomorrow. If not then, well, there was always the fish cached last month only a day’s walk southward from the camp. He turned from the doorway, got up, pretended to cover himself with false modesty, smiled at David with his friendly, toothy grin, mumbled something through his second coughing fit , during which David recognised the word “sila”, the weather, and then he slipped gracefully back under the caribou skins. Within minutes, he was snoring again, dead to the weather.
David pulled on his clothes then his tattered woolen coat and crawled though the tent opening. He stood up and looked around. The two other tents were drooping in the icy wetness, the side facing the weather glistening with its freezing coat. It had become much warmer than the past few days. That would account for the rain and fog. Below the crust, the snow was soft and wet and not the dry, hard granular stuff he had become so used to during the long winter months.
He walked around for a while, then realised he was getting soaked. His woollen coat had completely lost its ability to shed water like it had done when new. Instead, it just soaked in the moisture that fell on it, no longer beading on the surface where it was easy to brush off. His boots leaked as well. He could feel the remains of his socks getting wet around the toes, especially the left one. David needed to get some replacement clothes and vaguely wondered if he would be able to return to the ship in this weather, but came to the conclusion they would give him clothes anyway unless he stayed on the Erebus.
In this fog and rain, the whole world had turned white, every direction looked exactly like every other one, without any up or down or sideways. Once out of sight of the tents, he would be totally lost in this dimensionless world where there was nothing to guide him. Turning back to the skin tents, David wondered how the men he had left were fairing in the ships. At least, they would be under cover, he thought. The deck tenting was probably still up, so they would have lots of room to wander about out of the rain. They were probably thinking about getting the ships ready for yet another winter. The gossip was that the ships had not moved very much since they’d got stuck almost a year ago. Then he laughed, “I don’t care about those ships anymore! They don’t even know they’re frozen in for good...”

Ilatsiak - 34

2007-01-26T10:24:00.000-08:00

David stopped and reminded himself again, they had begun calling him “erniq” - son - ever since he walked into Agayuq’s camp. It was his return from the hike northwards with Fairholme and the others that changed everything. They thought he had gone for good, so his appearance was treated with surprise and great joy. He had arrived just in time. The family - his family - would join in the annual fishing camp on Kikitarjjuq, as King William Land was called. This was an annual event when people from all around would meet at the big lake in the center of the island and celebrate the late summer season. There was always lots to eat: fish and caribou and sometimes people from the mainland to the south, would bring dried muskox, a real treat.
David jumped to his feet and once again walked along the shoreline. In his head he could hear the words and phrases of his newly acquired language, Inuktitut. He realised how quickly he was catching on. In a way it was more like Gaelic than English and that made it easy to learn. He was now able to understand much of what was being said and only speaking came slowly, but he knew it too would come, just like when he learned English, French and Dutch with old Captain Fergus - oh how long had it been since he remembered that kindly old man!
The more days passed, the less he thought of returning to the Erebus. Something seemed to block his mind whenever the idea of of the ships and their crews occurred to him. For some reason, David could never solidly grasp, he seem to be blocking the ships from his mind. They disappeared little by little each day and now when someone mentioned them he would think of they in the third person as though they were foreign to him in some inexplicable way.
Still, every now and then, David would wake up from a dream in which the information he knew had to be relayed immediately to those still aboard the ships. Sir John would be there waiting for him to arrive with vital news about the ice. From what the Inuit - to use their own name for themselves - had told him the ice in which the ships were beset could remain frozen where it was for several years at a time without melting or moving. This knowledge was crucial information which would affect the outcome of the voyage immensely. He had to get it to Sir John... Waking up, he would find himself in a cold sweat, but be unable to remember what it had been that caused him to awaken. He would search for a clue in his mind, but the more he probed, the more whatever it was remained hidden from him. Was it something about Sir John? No, he had died last Spring. It must have been something else, guilt over not returning to his ship? That must be it, but how could he return, especially now it was mid-summer and he was miles away?
In the meantime, David knew he was enjoying the experience of living with his newly adopting family - the first time he could really say he had a family with two parents and siblings! It was a very addictive feeling, this family thing and certainly was an easier life than putting up with the short tempers and grumblings most of the ship’s company displayed with him and each other during the last few months he had been on the Erebus. People would sometimes ask David how the ships would escape from the icy trap from which there seemed to be no escape? He would shrug the questions away. Surely the officers had already come to some conclusion and were probably making plans to do something. He had heard that the food would run out in three years, so that would be next summer. Perhaps they were already planning something, but he doubted it. Francis or one of the men would have said something about it. There were always rumous going around, but he’d heard nothing.
He found it hard to relate to his former life on the Erebus. It seemed so distant and unreal. Still, now and then he would over-hear a bit of Inuit gossip about the ships or the movements of the crew. None of the stories seem to amount to much and he found them easy to ignore. Surely, he thought, if over a hundred men began sailing away or marching en masse to safety the Inuit would be alerted and he would hear the stories and think once again about whether or not to join them. Until that time came, David made up his mind to stay with these easy-going happy people who got to eat fresh food a lot more often than he had since the ships entered the ice two years past. Until that time came, he would think about the ships as little as possible. David stopped and reminded himself again, they had begun calling him “erniq” - son - ever since he walked into Agayuq’s camp. It was his return from the hike northwards with Fairholme and the others that changed everything. They thought he had gone for good, so his appearance was treated with surprise and laughter. He had arrived just in time. The family - his family - would join in the annual fishing camp on Kikitarjjuq, as King William Land was called. This was an annual event when people from all around would meet at the big lake in the center of the island and celebrate the late summer season. There was always lots to eat: fish and caribou and sometimes people from the mainland to the south, would bring dried muskox, a real treat.
David jumped to his feet and once again walked along the shoreline. In his head he could hear the words and phrases of his newly acquired language, Inuktitut. He realised how quickly he was catching on. In a way it was more like Gaelic than English and that made it easy to learn. He was now able to understand much of what was being said and only speaking came slowly, but he knew it too would come, just like when he learned English, French and Dutch with old Captain Fergus - oh how long had it been since he remembered that kindly old man!
The more days passed, the less he thought of returning to the Erebus. Something seemed to block his mind whenever the idea of of the ships and their crews occurred to him. For some reason, David could never solidly grasp, he seem to be blocking the ships from his mind. They disappeared little by little each day and now when someone mentioned them he would think of they in the third person as though they were foreign to him in some inexplicable way.
Still, every now and then, David would wake up from a dream in which the information he knew had to be relayed immediately to those still aboard the ships. Sir John would be there waiting for him to arrive with vital news about the ice. From what the Inuit - to use their own name for themselves - had told him the ice in which the ships were beset could remain frozen where it was for several years at a time without melting or moving. This knowledge was crucial information which would affect the outcome of the voyage immensely. He had to get it to Sir John... Waking up, he would find himself in a cold sweat, but be unable to remember what it had been that caused him to awaken. He would search for a clue in his mind, but the more he probed, the more whatever it was remained hidden from him. Was it something about Sir John? No, he had died last Spring. It must have been something else, guilt over not returning to his ship? That must be it, but how could he return, especially now it was mid-summer and he was miles away?
In the meantime, David knew he was enjoying the experience of living with his newly adopting family - the first time he could really say he had a family with two parents and siblings! It was a very addictive feeling, this family thing and certainly was an easier life than putting up with the short tempers and grumblings most of the ship’s company displayed with him and each other during the last few months he had been on the Erebus. People would sometimes ask David how the ships would escape from the icy trap from which there seemed to be no escape? He would shrug the questions away. Surely the officers had already come to some conclusion and were probably making plans to do something. He had heard that the food would run out in three years, so that would be next summer. Perhaps they were already planning something, but he doubted it. Francis or one of the men would have said something about it. There were always rumous going around, but he’d heard nothing.
He found it hard to relate to his former life on the Erebus. It seemed so distant and unreal. Still, now and then he would over-hear a bit of Inuit gossip about the ships or the movements of the crew. None of the stories seem to amount to much and he found them easy to ignore. Surely, he thought, if over a hundred men began sailing away or marching en masse to safety the Inuit would be alerted and he would hear the stories and think once again about whether or not to join them. Until that time came, David made up his mind to stay with these easy-going happy people who got to eat fresh food a lot more often than he had since the ships entered the ice two years past. Until that time came, he would think about the ships as little as possible.

Ilatsiak - 33

2007-01-19T19:58:00.000-08:00

David sat hunched down on the stony beach. If he faced just the right way the wind behind him would almost support him like the back of a chair. And he could watch the waves roll past the shore in endless succession as they had been doing now for the past few days. What a different place, where the wind could blow so hard for so long, yet the ice far out to sea just seemed to stay and stay, never moving. He was reminded of the expedition’s ships, the Terror and the Erebus. They too had remained beset in the ice where they had come to a stop in spite of ample wind and all because of the same unmoving ice. His mind turned next to the wretched Mr Shanks for some reason. Perhaps it was the constant wind and the thinking about the ice and chilly air.
How had he died so quickly? Was it the plunge into the cold sea that first day? Surely that wouldn’t be enough to kill a person. There must be some other reason for it. Was it his refusal to dry out hs clothes or do anything to help David try to get them dried? Certainly remaining in his damp bedding day after day had not helped his cough. It just kept getting worse and worse. Then it hit David again. The sight of Shanks curled up in the shelter when he returned from his walk southwards to look for the Eskimos. It was a scene that still woke David up from time to time. Somehow, he had died while David was away. Only a day’s walk, and Shanks had just died. There had been nothing about him that morning to suggest he was getting worse. It was so odd. Francis had been right. So many strange illnesses and deaths. Not that he liked Shanks much, he was a crude, simple man with few things about him that David found friendly. He talked only seldomly and more often than not it was to complain or rant aimlessly about their fate.
“I signed on to sail, not to lie freezing on this god-foresaken frozen beach.” he would shout at David. There was no answer to that, David knew. Since they had hastely set sail from Beechey Island where they’d spent their first winter, the expedition had managed just over a month of actual sailing and much of that had been spent tacking back and forth searching for a passage through the ice. Now another summer had passed and from what Fairholme and the others had said, the ships were stuck in the same place. The good news was that Lt Gore and Mr DesVoeux had made a trip southward along the west coast of King William Land in May and had found a cairn put up by Simpson and Dease. They discovered much better hunting further south which was good news given the growing number of people getting sick. As well, they had discovered there was a water route through to the Pacific if only the ice would melt! More and more of the ice would be leaving in the next days and weeks. David was sure it would and he was also certain the ships would be freed this year, even though the Inuit said they didn’t think it was possible.
David closed his eyes and let the warm sun beat on his upturned face, but he again saw Shanks. His mind once more went through what had happened at the depot that Spring. Pulling Shank’s body out of the shelter, rolling his blanket around him and then pulling him in the blanket down to the tide-line where he could lay him in an ice crack and cover him up with snow. He had tried to collect enough rocks or snow near the shelter to make a gravesite, but everything was too solidly frozen or in too small a quantity to cover up someone as large as Shanks. The ice crack seemed like the only place. At least there he was covered up. And it was only to be until the depot crew returned... He knew now that no one had come for them. Not until Fairholme organized the search party that found him in Agayuq’s camp.
David opened his eyes and stared once more across the miles and miles of pale brown landscape made of broken rocks. What had happened to everyone last winter? Certainly life on the ships was different from the early days that first winter. people had been slowly changing, he supposed. Too slowly to really notice, perhaps. He could see that now. Especially with his having been away from all of them for these many months. Something bad had been happening back on the ships. Was it just the fact that too many men had been alone for too long, trapped with nothing much to do. Certainly the past winter had not followed the same regimented routines in place at Beechey Island. There had been fewer trips out exploring. The rough ice prevented them from playing football and other games, and the shore was too far away to walk to even on pleasant days. Then there were the growing squabbles among the crew and officers. These thoughts were not pleasant ones. Why was he tormenting himself by letting all these questions come to the surface? Was it that he found Fairholme, Francis and the others moodier and crankier than he had remembered them only a few months previous? They seemed to be much weaker than he remembered, but maybe that was his imagination playing tricks. They had trouble when they were in Stormness and that was a long time ago. Why did these thoughts keep coming back to him? It was as though he knew the answers, but somehow couldn’t focus on them. Was it because he didn’t want to know? Was it because something deep inside him told him the ships were somehow doomed and he should avoid them? Or was it he feared what would happen now that Sir John was dead and meaner men were in change of his fate? Men he didn’t want to trust given what he’d just seen during the past few days?
In any event, it was time to move on. David knew he had to hurry southward or he might miss finding Agayuq, his new family.

Ilatsiak - 32

2007-01-11T19:22:00.000-08:00

As they walked northwards, David kept to the shoreline, always watching the water, still amazed that it would be so inviting yet so cold. Even the azure blue colour was so tropical, almost Mediterreanian-like. How could this place be the arctic?
Fairholme shook his head as he gazed out at the sunlight dazzling on the blue water. Not a sign of ice anywhere. Why is it we are still so beset in ice even the ice-master admits is the heaviest ice he had ever seen in all his years of whaling in Davis Strait and elsewhere? Why had the expedition not checked out this coast more carefully? Surely the ships could have found a passage through the shallows, perhaps by hugging the Boothia coastline more closely. On his trek along the eastern shore of King William Land he never saw land extending towards the east. It always trended south and south-west...
He stopped again to arrange the sole on his left boot. The wet going and sharp stones had managed to loosen its sole and now it had begun to flap back nearly to his instep. Using the last bit of his silk neck scarf, he tied it up once again wondering as he did so how long it would last and what he would try as a fix the next time it flapped. Everything was running out. Each day there was less and less. Perhaps David had been right. He should have had it fixed by one of the women back at the camp. Still, how long would caribou sinew hold? Probably a mile or two, no more.
He looked across at David, dressed partly in native clothing, yet so carefree, skipping stones out into the calm water, counting the number of expanding ripples they created on their way. David would indeed be the great help just as Sir John had said he would be. How could it be that one so young had picked up the strange sounding language so quickly, after only a few months of contact with these people? And he even knew the word for map. Having the Inuit men draw the coastline of this land during his brief stay at the camp had been a real stroke of luck. Now they could be certain they were on an island. If David had it right, these people still remembered James Ross and his ships and the years they had wintered to the east of Boothia. It was Ross’s visit to the area that the hunter had been talking about that first day last Spring at the depot. David had learned that some of Eskimos had even travelled to Repulse Bay and knew about white men - kablunaat - from the people who sometimes wintered there. Yes, David would be an real asset. He felt ashamed to think how harsh he had been trying to convince Sir John of David’s folly of wanting to live with such primitive people when he had duties on board the Erebus. Now that Sir John was gone, he would have to speak with Fitzjames and Crozier and re-evaluate David’s status. But first he would have to break the news of Sir John’s death to David. They had become very attached to each other during the past two years the expedition had run. It would not be easy bringing the subject up. He’d have to think about a suitable way to let David know about Sir John, which would spare him too much pain.
His boot again serviceable, Fairholme signaled to the others and they continued on their homeward walk back to the magnetic observation post which had been established at Cape Felix during the previous fall and then, from there on they would head westwards over the rough ice where they’d eventually come to the ships lying still firmly beset in the ice about 15 miles offshore.
That evening, approaching Fairholme as he stood alone outside his tent fussing once again with his boot, David explained he would not be continuing on to the ships. Francis Pocock, one of the seaman had told him of Sir John’s passing and the difficulties which had become commonplace on the ships. David was surprised to hear about how badly the summer hunting had gone and the fact that food rations had been reduced by a third. By comparison he had eaten well all summer. They had cached both seals and fish during the summer as Agayuq had far more than he could use. David explained as well as he could that he no longer wished to return to the deprivations on the ships. Besides, he continued, there was no urgency anymore. In fact, he bluntly told Fairholme that he no longer felt welcome on the Erebus without Sir John’s protection and care for him. He had been almost a father to him.
In a way, this was a perfect out for Fairholme. He could declare David a deserter which would solve the problem his disappearance had created among the crew and at the same time relieve him of the responsibility of knowing where he was all the time. One less mouth to feed, one less soul to worry about also made the decision easier as well. Furthermore, he had the information regarding King William Land being an island as well as the news that the ice in which the ships were stuck only broke up on rare summers and not as a rule. Still, David was a British member of the expedition and to it he owed his loyalty, and this point bothered Fairholme.
“That may be your wish, Mr Young, but your duty is to the Expedition. I will consider your request and give you my answer in the morning. In the meantime, I expect you to assist the others as usual.” Fairholme, David could see, had not expecting his decision and insisted on treating it as a request, which it was not. This position made it harder on him, but his mind was made up. Just listening to Francis and the other men talking behind Fairholme’s back about how life on board the ships had changed, how their food was reduced and suspected of being bad, how their morale had broken down completely, with the men divided into cliques and full of petty jealousies, often fighting among themselves over little things. Worst of all was the revelation that more and more men were coming down with some mysterious illness much like scurvy, but worse, was proof enough. He couldn’t return no matter what his duty might be. It would be wiser to stay with Agayuq and perhaps eventually make his way to Repulse Bay or somewhere to the east and return to England that way. Surely there was little hope in remaining here until a rescue ship from England arrived. No doubt people back in England were already wondering why no word had been heard from the Expedition. They had been expected in the Pacific this summer, not stuck in the unrelenting ice. By next summer, their third out from England, a rescue ship would most likely be sent to find them, but given the bad news aboard the ships, would any of them still be alive when it arrived?
David left before any of them awakened the next morning, although he did shake Francis and thank him for the many kindnesses he had done for him over the past two years. He told him to head south and find the Inuit, as he called the Eskimo people, if conditions on the ships got worse. They would take care of him and perhaps together they could both get to Repulse Bay where people saw white people and English ships now and then. Francis declined. He believed the ice would free them and they would be on their way shortly. He still looked forward to becoming a hero when he got home to England, just like they said he would be as they left the docks in Greenhithe. David knew his mind was made up. He turned away and quickly ran inland along the ridge before finally heading southwards towards Agayuq’s camp. Hopefully they would all still be there...

Ilatsiak - 31

2007-01-06T18:38:00.000-08:00

Their tents seemed to rise so naturally out of the ground they were all but invisible against the muted reds and browns of the low vegetation and the similiar colours of the stoney ground viewed in the weakening sunlight of mid-August. Fall was returning to the arctic once again. Each day the sun seemed to set earlier and earlier. Ice would form a skim on the little ponds overnight. The summers seemed so short; a month at best. People had begun to find ice now forming on the bay each evening whenever the ocean waters were calm.
Perhaps it was the sudden movement of the children running towards their parents that revealed the presence of people at all. Lt. Fairholme could pride himself at last. He had been leading the men at the moment they had topped the slight rise and came once again into view of the sea. And now, here between them and the beach were four tents made of brownish coloured skins, arranged in a haphazard fashion near the water’s edge. Holding up his hand and indicating the others to remain behind, Fairholme began walking down the slope to the nearest tent.
To his amazement, Fairholme watched as a young man crawled out of the tent, stood up, turned and cried out “Lt. Fairholme, sir!”
“Mr Young? Is that truly you, Mr Young? My god, man... We took you for dead... along with Shanks.” Fairholme was obviously taken aback seeing David long haired, dishevelled looking, but very much alive after having been missing and presumed dead for nearly three months.
“Yes, sir. It’s me,” David turned to view his Inuit friends who now began to relax somewhat. “I was meaning to head back to the ship... soon, sir. Have you been able to move at all this summer? I was wondering because people here say the ice seldom melts on the west coast.”
“A few miles, that is all. However it is time you returned - returned to civilization you might say, Mr Young. I think this adventure of yours has gone far enough if we’re to get you back to England in one piece. Whatever are you doing here with these... ah... people? What’s going on? And whatever happened to Shanks? Is he here as well?”
“England, sir? When will that be, sir?” asked David already knowing the answer would not be anytime soon.
“In good time, Mr Young. In good time. In the meantime, there is much to discuss. Is Mr Shanks here with you?”
David froze. “Mr Shanks, sir? No sir, he... he’s dead. Back at the Terror’s supplies. Did you not find him?”
“No body was found, Mr Young. How did he die?” There seemed to be a twinge of guilt in Lt. Fairholme’s voice.
“He fell through the ice, sir. Must have got pneumonia or something. He caughed terribly for a few days. He couldn’t move and then he died.”
“It was our fault, Mr. Young. We were unable to return for several weeks... much longer than we planned. Finally the supplies were ferried out by ship’s launch last July, but we found neither you nor Shanks. I’m glad to have found you alive, at least. Thank God! Your disappearance has been a considerable worry to us all.”
“I suspect it has, sir. I’m sorry to have abandoned the supplies, but these people came and I more or less had to go with them at least to visit their camp and I wanted to learn their language - I can almost speak it now - and, well, it wasn’t easy to return with all the travelling we’ve been doing... I didn’t know the way...” David stopped. He had run out of words. To see Fairholme again was comforting, yet at the same time, a shock after all this time. Most likely he would be required to return with him to the Erebus and he didn’t really care for that eventuality, at least not so unexpectedly, not like this. He wanted to return and show off all that he had learned in the months since his absence. This would be different.
Fairholme set about getting ready to leave the camp immediately, but David managed to persuade him to remain and eat and sleep before they began the return trek to Cape Felix and thence to the Erebus. As it turned out Fairholme’s party was nearly out of supplies and while the Inuit food was somewhat distasteful to them, they admitted they needed the sustainance it gave them.
It was actually several days later, in fact, on a fine day, with blue skies, very little wind and just a few clouds, as near to autumn as it gets in this strange land, when David, the two officers and the five crew-men set out walking towards Cape Felix, northward along the east coast of King William island. Fairholme and the others had found David and Agayuq’s extended family just north of Cape Norton waiting to cross over to Boothia to begin the fall sealing season. Another few days and they would have missed them completely. Agayuq had already repaired his kayak’s skin cover where some loose dogs had managed to eat some holes. The fact that he had caught a few seals was all that kept the four families from moving further along the coast and over to the Matty Islands themselves to where they would wait to cross over to Boothia.
Fairholme and the others had welcomed the chance to feast on fish and caribou meat during their short stay with Agayuq’s family and the others, although, having run out of cooking fuel for their little spirit stove, they were obliged to eat it either sun-dried or raw which did little to give them much satisfaction. The hunting had been so poor prior to their finding David that Fairholme had determined they would only last one more day before they would be forced to retreat northwards again or face possible starvation. Finding David like this was a miracle, to be sure in more ways than one.

Ilatsiak - 30

2007-01-04T06:17:00.000-08:00

Lt. LesVisconte didn’t arrive at the Observation Site that day or even the next as expected. Lt Fairholme on hearing the news about Sir John’s health decided his duty lay in returning to the Erebus to be with his Commander. It was possible his illness was what was keeping LesVisconte at the ship. Fairholme realised he would surely be of more service there than here at the site where the only activity was the regular recording of the magnetic variations each day. Accordingly, he packed his gear again, repaired his boot for the umpteenth time and, accompanied by a Marine from the ship named Pvt. Joseph Healey, he set out over the ice. Even though the path was well trodden, it was by no means smooth. The recent snow had made walking difficult. Each step sunk down about 4 inches into a water-logged layer just above the ice itself. The warm weather, while vastely more bearable than the cold endured during the winter, also had its less welcome side - soaked feet. In any event, the two men trudged on. By noon, Healey estimated they were about half way to the ship, having walked about 10 miles altogether. They found a place to rest and ate their lunch cold, not having brought a stove with them. As they began to get ready to set out once again, the ice suddenly made a loud cracking sound. It made Fairholme jump, as if a cannon had suddenly discharged behind him. Healey, smiled, “I should have warned you, Sir. The ice has been making a lot of noises this past week. Good sign. It will be sending us on our way soon, if it doesn’t crush us first!”
“God willing, Private. I’ll be none too happy to have water under the keel again and be homeward bound.”
“Yes Sir. That’s everyone’s wish. It has been a hard winter, this one.”
With that the two men walked silently on, both dreaming of the ones they had left at home nearly two years ago.
“Would you look at that, sir?” Healey pointed downwards as he came up over the last hummock of ice. “It’s all water.”
Fairholme got his first look as he came to the top of the ice. The crack in the ice had allowed water from beneath to come to the surface and flood the path and the surrounding are, making a mini-lake about 100 yards in diameter. There was nothing to do but make their way over the jagged ice mounds which formed the lake’s sides. Half an hour later, they regained the trail and for the first time could see the Erebus laying at a slight list about two miles ahead.
Finally coming close to the ships, Fairholme found a number of the crew out on the ice beside the Erebus milling about. The previous winter he would have more likely seen a ball game underway with one watch playing another, the third watch acting as spectators, waiting to take on the winner. The scene was quite different now. Groups of men had formed more often more for the purpose of grumbling about something or other. The cheeriness had all but disappeared. Fairholme made a note to remind Sir John of the promise to get the men out hunting as soon as possible. Hunting always seemed to raise the spirits, and King William Land had offered good hunting in the fall and was bound to do so again with the summer solstice only a week or so away.
He climbed aboard, but no one greeted him as he pulled the canvas winter deck cover aside and looked along the ship. The deck was empty. He swung open the hatch cover, descended to the lower deck, turned to his left and then opened the door to his tiny cabin on the port side of the ship. All was as he had left it. He began to feel the warmth of the steam heating system installed in the ship. It felt good. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be warm again. Removing his heavy coat, his boots and socks, he dried himself off, pulled on a couple of dry socks and slipped into his homemade felt slippers. he then headed aft to the mess to inquire of the news. It was not good. Glum faces told the news without asking. Sir John was not expected to live through the day. It was June 11, 1847.

Ilatsiak - 29

2006-12-28T16:42:00.000-08:00

Mr Shanks didn’t get up the next day. In lay in his blanket, his body wracked by continual coughing fits. Towards the end of the day, David noticed him trying to hide the fact that he has been spitting up considerable blood.
“What’s the bloody date, David!” Shanks suddenly yelled at David who had just left the shelter for a look around. Hearing the yell, he turned and poked his head under the canvas door flaps.
“The date? You want to know the date?”
“Yes, bloody hell, man. What’s the date?”
“I’m not exactly sure. Towards the end of April, I’d think.” David suddenly realized he couldn’t recall even what day it was for sure, but they had been on the ship about ten days previously on a Sunday in mid April. “Why’d you need to know that?”
“Because I’m dying, that’s why! I’m coughing my guts up! Can’t you tell?” Shanks was clearly distraught and confused. “ I want you to mark this day, David, the day I pass on...”
“That’s rediculous, Mr Shanks. You’ve caught a chill, that’s all. You’ll be up in a day or two. You’ll see.”
* * *
There were faint crunching sounds outside the shelter. David slowly woke up to this new sound and lay still. While he had yet to see a bear on this trip, other men had killed several and he had a good idea how big they were and how curious. He listened for a few more minutes before daring to move. The sounds seem to move away. Slowly he rose and lifted the rock which held the shelter door flap closed. He pulled the canvas aside slightly and peered out. Everything was white, brilliant, sunny white with a blue sky above. David looked towards the shore ice suddenly thinking that perhaps it was Mr Shanks body that had attracted the bear. However, if that was the case the animal wasn’t there.
Then a human laugh. David felt his body jump with surprise. Grabbing his boots, pulling them on, he burst out of the shelter ready to welcome the men back, wondering how they had been able to return so soon. Seeing no one, he ran around the corner of the piled boxes and tumbled into a crouching man, completely dressed in brown fur clothing. Eskimos!
Everyone seem to freeze, not knowing what exactly to expect next. David looked up. The man he had fallen over, was turning to face him and three other fur clad figures just seem to stare at him from around the boxes near the back of the shelter. No one seemed able to make the first move. Then everyone seemed to thaw out. David heard one of the men behind the shelter begin to laugh. Another man said something and the man closest to David pulled his hood back and spoke directly to David. It was the man who had visited them only a few days previously.
David, recovering from his surprise, held out a hand to the man. He responded with his and shook once with a slow up them down movement. The other three men came up to David and did the same. All four men had the warmest hands David could remember. Once this was done, the men began speaking rapidly both to David, who of course could understand nothing of what was said, as well as to each other. David immediately enjoyed the sound of their language and silently began to try and mimic the sounds to himself. It brought to mind the same sounds he had heard while he was in Greenland. Everything about the depot seem to interest them: the wooden boxes, the canvas, David’s woolen clothing, his leather boots, even his skin.
Before long it became apparent to David that they were obviously wondering where the other crew members were. They looked all around the depot, inside the shelter. They could see that another person had been there, there were two mugs, and various other pairs of things, but only one person. David didn’t know what to do. Should he show them where he had tried to bury Mr Shanks body in the snowdrift down beside the shore ice? Would it be better not to let them know he was alone? Would they guess the fact anyway? There were only David’s footprints besides their own. Surely they had already figured out he was alone.
After spending about a hour looking the depot over and trying to speak with David, Agayuq, the man who had visited the depot previously, began to indicate to David he was to follow them. At first he was reluctant to leave with them, but when another of the men crawled out of the shelter with David’s blankets and mug and David realised that he was not being given much of a choice. He followed his belongings, hoping that they were not being stolen, but just being moved to another site. He grabbed his heavy parka, and set several stones along the bottom of the tent flap knowling full well that it wouldn’t prevent a bear from entering, but might keep some snow out for a while.
Several hours later, David suddenly realised he had not left any sort of note behind indicating what had happened to him. It was too late now to return, but surely he would be back in a day or two - at any rate, it would be well over a week before the crew returned to the depot. He would surely be back by then.

Ilatsiak - 28

2006-12-20T17:55:00.001-08:00

The next day was at least sunny, although the wind continued to blow strongly in gusts from the north, making walking into it a chore. All three men trudged along silently, each one thinking about his own misery. From time to time one would slip and fall on the rough, but barely snow covered ground. Rolling as they fell, they would become covered with wet sticky snow which clung to their woolen parkas and leggings. It would then melt, soaking their parkas and so increase their misery as the wind blew the dampness closer to their skin. After a year and a half of almost continual use the wool no longer possessed the natural oils which had once helped to shed moisture the way it had a year ago. Now only the exercise of walking kept them warm. Whenever they stopped for a rest break, they would feel the chill creep toward their bodies, forcing them to continue walking once again.
Stopping to eat around noon, they used up the last of their food, a ‘portable soup’ which could be mixed with water. It was somewhat akin to pemmican in that it provided considerable nourishment when mixed with warm water. Here again they ran into difficulty as the stove had bearly melted the snow before it ran out of fuel, their last. Forced then to drink the soup mix cold, Irving was the first to complain. He finally stood up and threw his cup as far as he could from where they huddled below a slight ridge of broken stones and stood up.
“I’m going ahead, Mr Fairholme. See if I can’t make better time on my own to the Cape. I’ll have them send a relief out to assist you people with the sledge.”
Without waiting for a reply, he spun on his heel and headed over the ridge for the Cape. Lt Fairholme said nothng. What was there to say? He assisted the sailor in packing the sledge and taking a pulling-line himself, followed in Irving’s tracks.
They followed behind Irving for the rest of the day before Fairholme realised that he was heading further and further inland rather than remaining near the coast. It was obvious that Irving would miss the Cape entirely if he wasn’t careful. The two men tried yelling at him, but Irving was over a mile ahead and what with the gusting winds, he was certainly out of hearing range. Fairholme returned to the coast all the while keeping track of Irving’s movements as best he could given the undulating terrain. Rather than stop to eat at suppertime they kept walking with the idea of reaching the Cape as soon as possible. By the early evening they had lost sight altogether of Irving, but managed to estimate his route. Hopefully he would turn towards the coast at some point and make the Cape soon after they did.
Just into the early hours of the morning, Fairholme’s little party saw the magnetic observation building at Cape Felix. Another hour of walking and pulling brought them into the sleeping camp about two hours after midnight. Peering into the sleeping quarters, it soon was apparent they had beaten Irving to the Cape. Hopefully he would arrive by morning. Dead tired, they found places to put their blankets and fell asleep themselves.
The next morning, Fairholme set about to find Commander Fitzjames and report their findings, however he soon discovered that Fitzjames was not at the site, but had returned to the Erebus. Sir John had again taken ill with the same respiratory affliction which had plagued him on and off throughout the voyage. This time however, it appeared more serious and Mr Stanley, the surgeon, feared Sir John would not have the strength this time to fight it off. That left no officers presently at the site although Lt. LesVisconte was expected to arrive from the Erebus sometime during the day.
About mid morning Lt. Irving strolled into the little camp of four tents that comprised the Observation Site. He seemed to be in a good mood and Fairholme was surprised at how cheerily he was greeted, almost as if the past twenty-four hours had not happened. Irving’s only comment on his strange behaviour was to joke about how the years he had spent aboard the permanently docked gunnery ship Excellence was taking its toll on his ability for making longish treks. He just didn’t seem to have the stamina he once had, he joked. Upon hearing the news that Franklin was once again ill, Lt. Irving determined to return to the Terror to see whether he could be of any assistance to Capt. Crozier and to inform him that Eskimos had been sighted at the depot of materials belonging to their ship and would no doubt begin pillaging it now they knew it was there. Accordingly, he ate a hearty meal, slept for a few hours and then set off alone following the set of hand sign posts frozen into the ice along the fairly well trodden ice route out to the ships, 15 miles away.

Ilatsiak - 27

2006-12-10T10:53:00.000-08:00

Shanks began caughing during the night and David tried to get him to drink some of the left-over soup they had had for supper, however he would have none of it. David could see he was shivering still and found his blankets none too warm. The fact they had managed to get wet somehow didn’t help the situation. Finally David got up and walked outside to relieve himself only to discover it had been snowing heavily. All Shanks clothes had blown down from where he had carefully set them out to dry and were now wetter than ever. He set about collecting all those he could find and returned into their little shelter. It was clear that the recent snow storm had allowed snow to find its way inside and David began to look for holes to patch here and there.
None too pleased to see his snowy, wet clothes, Mr Shanks nevertheless said nothing. He rolled over and, still caughing, tried to find a comfortable position on the hard, stoney ground. David looked around wondering what to do, then went out again and sat down in the shelter of the containers and stared out to sea. It was going to be a long boring time if Shanks' caughing fits became worse or he was unwilling to find ways to dry out his clothes. It would mean being stuck here at the depot for the whole two weeks instead of exploring the area. David was certain that the Eskimo they had met a couple of days ago must have a camp nearby and he was anxious to visit and learn more about these mysterious people he had been waiting so long to meet. He made up his mind that regardless of Shanks condition, he would do some exploring further along the beach especially towards the south. That seemed to be the direction the Eskimo man was heading when they last saw him. With David gone for a few days, Shanks would have to begin helping himself and that would no doubt be a good thing. After having Lt Irving picking on him the way he had, David was anxious to have a break from playing the servant routine to people who had no business asking him for services.

(Author's Note: I've used the word 'Eskimo' in this story as it was used during the period of the book, however the proper term is 'Inuk' for the singular and 'Inuit' for the plural)

Ilatsiak - 26

2006-12-05T18:28:00.000-08:00

On the return trek to Cape Felix, Lt Irving managed to overcome his fear of the ice by walking behind the others most of the way. In fact, it was he who suggest to Lt Fairholme that the party depart the Matty Islands and make a direct line northwestwards for King William Island thus avoiding walking around to the narrowest crossing point as they had done on the outward voyage. In fact this turned out to be a good idea. No poor ice was encountered and a number of seals were spotted basking on the ice near their breathing holes. This was a novelty for the men as it was the first time they had been able to actually see seals in any number at all. The rough ice around the ships made it impossible to see any seals although several of the crew claimed to have heard them under the ice from time to time. This was dismissed as nonsense by most of the officers and especially Mr Goodsir, the best naturalist on the expedition.
By the time they stopped to camp, the party was well up the coast of KWL, as they had come to call King William Land and if the weather continued to be as warm and sunny, Lt Fairholme predicted their arrival at Cape Felix the following evening or at least the morning after. Irving complained about missing his servant as he now had no partner for dominos.
They were awakened early in the morning by the sound of the canvas tent flapping and being blown inwards from the strong gusts of wind that was blowing from the west. Looking out, Lt Irving cursed under his breath.
“Bloody snow!” he turned and bunching up his blankets, squatted on the side of the tent which allowed some sitting room. “Must be a couple of inches on the ground already. Looks like we’ll be sitting here for the day.”
“How could that be, after yesterday’s heat?” said Lt Fairholme. “Surely it will melt away and we can be off.”
“Take a look, sir. I think you’ll find it quite wintery again. We’ve lost the spring weather, I’d say.” Irving was disgusted. The long months of winter, the condition of the ships, beset as they were in the ice with little prospects of advancing any time soon, was beginning to get to him. “I was hoping this outing would bring a change in our condition. Now we’re right back were we began. Stuck, with winter at our heels again, sapping our strength, killing us by inches at a time.”
“I agree, I agree. But at least we have seen some new territory. Meeting the Eskimo at last may help. They will be able to advise us on when the ice breaks up, on the best route to follow.”
“You’re right. Yesterday’s weather got me thinking it was July and we’d be on our way again.” Irving’s voice sounded normal and reasonable suddenly.
“The worst is over, Lt, we’ll soon be sailing clear and free again. In fact, I was just thinking of our passage down here last summer. Yesterday’s weather reminded me, I guess of that passage. This snow won’t last but a day or two.” Fairholme tried to cheer him up with some hopeful memories.
“I’m not too sure of that, Mr Fairholme. We’ve been thinking, over on the Terror that we might be best to retreat up Peel Strait and look further west for a better channel. The ice we’re in will break us up ‘fore we’re into sailing again.”
“I’ve heard the talk too, but I can assure you, it doesn’t carry far with Sir John. At best, he might send a boat out to search a passage west, but he’s determined to break through the 90 miles we have to go to Simpson’s Cairn. Just let’s wait on the weather. You’ll see he’s right.”
Irving folder his arms across his jacket and closed his eyes. The discussion was closed as far as he was concerned. Fairholm stared at this stubborn man for a few more minutes before turning to his note-book. Then thinking better of warming up some ink to write with, turned on his side and closed his eyes. “Only 90 miles to go and we’ll be free of this and on our way...”
The wind began to slacken after they made a lunch and a short walk around convinced them it was worth continuing on to the Cape. In fact, the thin snow cover actually made the sledge easier to pull, although several times both crew men stumbled and fell in the slippery snow. Their boots, more designed for dry conditions where a smooth sole was an asset, became treacherously slippery in the snow.
By suppertime, they were still a good day and a half from Cape Felix and the decision was taken to camp again rather than go on. Hopefully the snow they had received earlier in the day would melt and travelling would improve although the look of the sky to the west, where the weather seemed to mostly come from, was anything but promising.
Once again, during the night, the wind began to blow again, this time from the north, and dark heavy clouds scudded past looking ominous and threatening. Irving was in a foul mood again, but worse by far than anything Fairholme had seen before. He stormed out of the tent, complaining of the infernal flapping of the canvas, the dampness of his blankets, the impossibly slow cook stove, his slippery boots, just about everything seemed to anger him these past few hours. It seemed to be worse now that he didn’t have poor David to bully. Fairholme felt guilty about letting that go on for so long, but Irving was senior to him and there was little he could do. Outside Irving was facing the wind, like some sort of timeless prophet of old. He looked into the distant horizon and began yelling and cursing it with every word he could think of. Finally exhausting himself, he ended with a caughing fit which only resulted in his stumbling back into the tent, nearly knocking down the center pole as he careened about looking for an unoccupied spot to land in. Finally, he sat down rather hard, wrapped himself in his blanket and sat staring dumbly at the ground, totally dejected and miserable.

Ilatsiak - 25

2006-11-29T19:13:00.000-08:00

“Best we reach the shelter as soon as we can. Once you’re in your blankets, we can try and dry your clothes.” said David.
Mr Shanks didn’t need any proding. He was silent the rest of the way to the depot and in fact, was the first to reach the shelter. When David arrived a few minutes later, Shanks was already under his blankets and David could see he was shivering even in their warmth. When David asked for his own clothes back, Shanks just growled something and David decided to wait until the morning before asking again.
Managing to get the little stove going, David used the axe they had found in the stores to open one of the food cans. It turned out to be a beef and vegetable soup. He set the whole can on the little spirit stove and waited for it to heat up. It seemed to take forever, so while it was heating up, he climbed up on the pile of containers to survey their camp. Far to the east, out on the ice he saw nothing, but as he glanced away, he thought there were tiny dark spots scattered here and there on the ice. Still, staring directly at them seem to make them disappear. Towards the west, David could see the clouds had begun to thicken even more and even though the sun was still up, it had gone behind them and would remain behind as it swung through the northern sky. Tomorrow would bring poor weather for drying clothes David thought as he climbed back down to check on the soup.
The stove was doing its best but was hardly up to the job of heating a 9 pound tin of soup over a single flame. In the meantime, Shanks began to complain of being thirsty again and David ladled some of the soup liquid into a mug and gave it to him to drink. He spat it out immediately.
“It's cold, Mr Young!”
“Of course, Mr Shanks, the soup has yet to heat.” said David, “It will be hot in due course.”
David was slowly coming to the realization that Mr Shanks, a man who had shipped on the Terror, was not a person he had known well known. His fellow ship-mates from the Erebus, had gossiped about him as not being the easiest of companions to be alone with, although he was known for his strength and stamina. David began to picture what it was going to be like during the next couple of weeks. When the soup was at last hot, they both ate their fill and then some. David kept thinking all the while, that they would not be able to eat again like this if the food was to last until the sledging party returned for them.
After eating, David tried to get Shanks to hang up his wet clothes to allow them to dry, but he simply refused to exit his blankets.
“You’re the cabin boy, me lad. Would you be so kind as to deal with it? Or would you like to settle it with a domino game?” he said in a mocking fashion. David, not wishing to upset their fragile relationship any further, came back with, “As you wish, milord.” and attempted to lay the still soaking clothes out in places where he felt they might possibly be dried by the slight wind if not the sun. Dominoes was not David’s favourite game, but one that, like Lt Irving, Shanks seemed addicted to and while it was distasteful to play with him, David was prepared to do anything to raise his spirits and keep him from being miserable and hard to get along with.

Ilatsiak - 24

2006-11-26T19:23:00.000-08:00

It was clear from their hushed conversations that the officers had been disturbed by the sudden appearance of the hunter. While he appeared harmless enough, they knew enough about his kind not to take unnecessary chances. After conferring for some time, they broke from their huddle and approached David and the other crew members.
“The arrival of the hunter has meant we will be changing our original plans somewhat. Two of you will remain here at the depot to secure its contents while we determine how to best deal with the situation. Mr Young, you will be in charge. Lt Irving and I will leave you and Mr Shanks here to see to the safety of this depot. Lt Irving, myself and Mr Kinnaird will return to Cape Felix in the morning. We will set about arranging the boxes in order to provide a shelter for you until we return with a sledge party in a week or so. Now that our supplies here have been seen by the natives, they will no doubt be broken into and scattered far and wide. Your duty will be to see that doesn't happen.
“Let’s see what food items can be had. You will need provisions for about two weeks at most, I would estimate before we return...”
The remainder of the time Lts Fairholme and Irving remained at the depot, they saw to it that David and Mr Shanks were as comfortably housed as possible by making a makeshift shelter using whatever supplies were to be found and that they were provided with whatever would be needed for the two week stay. The biggest problem was food and a means of heating it. There was almost nothing in the way of food items at the depot. Finally it was decided that the items left behind on their way to the depot would probably last the two weeks if both men were careful. In the morning, a cold overcast day with a nasty westerly wind to contend with, the two officers and Kinnaird set off on the return trek to Cape Felix. David was grateful to see the end of Lt Irving and the treatment he had been enduring during the trek out. He and Mr Shanks returned along the trail as far as the small food cache where they said their farewells to the others as they departed. The ice conditions had deteriorated even during the few days the party had spent at the depot and David found it useful to carry a wooden pole to use as a probe to test the ice as he walked along much like the hunter they had met had been doing. The others felt this was overly cautious and Lt Irving especially made fun of him, calling David, their little ‘Eskimo’ boy as he appeared to be imitating the man who had visited them the previous day.
Their goodbyes made, David and Mr Shanks began their return journey to the depot. They had no sled to carry the heavy cans of food which they had been left, however David soon improvised a piece of canvas and a length of rope into a sled suitable for pulling all the cans along over the ice. He was quite pleased with himself as he and Mr Shanks slowly made their way back across the frozen sea.
The day was turning hot and the radiation off the sea ice as the sun climbed higher began to bother both of them, especially Mr Shanks. He started to complain of being thirsty and tried to grab handfuls of snow to eat hoping to gain some relief from it. However, as time went on, he only became more and more thirsty. He was a big man, well built and seemed to possess considerable strength. However the heat and the glare seem to melt his strength away. David could see him staggering somewhat as he walked along, especially when it was not his turn to pull the food bag. Several times David had to speak to him about veering to the right towards the open water and the poor ice as they walked along. Each time, Shanks would complain that David was taking the long way around for nothing and saying that they would be forever out on the ice if they didn’t take a more direct route. David only shrugged his shoulders and continued along. He was certain that getting too close to the edge of the ice would be dangerous. Already his probe had gone through in a number of places and he was glad of the warning it gave him.
Shanks was some distance to the right of David and seemed to be walking closer to a patch of open water, gleaming blue and sparkling in the sunlight. On several occasions David heard him yelling in his direction, but was unable to make out his words. David yelled back each time, recommending that the ice was safer for walking where he was and that Shanks ought to stay well way from the open water. It was lost on Shanks, who began pointing at something near the ice edge and waving for David to have a look. David’s probe went through again and forced him to retreat and seek another route through the ice and watery maze that surrounded them.
Finally it happened. A cry brought David’s head up quickly. Mr Shanks was in the water. He had found a weak spot and broken through. David dropped the sled rope and testing for thin ice as he went, he ran towards Shanks as fast as he could. The ice seemed solid until about ten feet from where Shanks was floundering in the water. Each time he made a grab for the ice in order to haul himself out, he found nothing to hold on to except slippery wet ice. David held out his pole, but there was a current and Shanks began to float away from the ice edge, buoyed by his heavy woolen jacket.
“Grap the end!” he yelled to the half drowned Shanks, but it was plain to see the wooden probe was already too short to grab and the distance was increasing with each second.
“I can’t reach...”
Shanks saw himself drifting dangerously out of reach, but was quick enough to also see his best chance lay in letting the current carry him to the far side of the opening in the ice. He was not a swimmer, but somehow managed to flounder and float the few dozen yards to the opposite ice edge and finding firmer ice held on until David made his way around to him. Once there, it was an easier task to extend the probe and between the two of them, Shanks managed to pull himself out and onto the firmer ice.
“I’m frozen through, Mr Young. I’m nearly drowned. I’ll die here in the dreadful place!”
“Take off your parka. We’ll try to dry you off a bit. The sun’s quite hot. Perhaps you can wear some of my clothes in the meantime 'til we get yours dry.”
They began the odd business of undressing out on the ice, Mr Shanks piling his wet ones on the retreived food sled and then he and David attempted to divide up David’s dry clothes. Apart from having to wear his wet boots, they ended up working out a reasonable sharing of dry things fairly well. It also served to stem the stream of complaints coming from Shanks about taking the shortest route. However, once the safety of the shore was reached, he began to complain again of David being too slow, of being cold and being certain that he was near to death’s door. It was true, the heat of the day had passed, the sun being now lower in the sky and David was feeling chilly as well. Ominously a bank of high clouds appeared to be moving in from the west and blanked off the sun earlier than usual.

Ilatsiak - 23

2006-11-20T18:14:00.000-08:00

Bernard’s Harbour seemed suddenly empty with the Inuit gone, but it did mean the scientists could get on with their plans for the coming spring and summer in relative peace and quiet. Their objective was to map the area more thoroughly, to collect samples of flora, fauna and geology and while some of these activities would be done while in the company of the local Inuit, much of it was more easily done without them. The first night during supper, talk returned to their recent visitors.
“I’ll miss them,” said Diamond. “I was hoping to travel with them during the summer, especially the group going over to Victoria Island.”
“That group will be back just before the ice goes out.” Patsy put in. “They’ll want to stock up before they go. I’m sure they’ll take you with them.”
“I was hoping to get some more recordings from the old shaman, as well. Any idea where he was headed, Patsy?”
“No. I...”
Patsy’s father interrupted suddenly. “That reminds me, Diamond. That old man said the damnedest thing the other day. I forgot to mention it to you.”
“What did he say?” quizzed Diamond.
“He told me that the thing that makes my boat go was broken, so it wouldn’t go any more.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? How would he know anything about your boat and what makes it go?”
“That’s just it. I kinda ignored the remark at the time. He doesn’t, or at least, I don’t know how he could much about sailing boats, but this morning I went aboard to ckeck that nothing had been lifted off her and damned if the main boom doesn’t have a big crack in her. He’s right, I’m not going anywhere in her, until I can replace that boom!”
“You mean, Ilatsiak knew the boom was cracked?”
“He seemed to. But I know no one had been on the boat. There were no signs of tracks or anything around her and as you know, the winter tarp’s still on, so he couldn’t have seen the boom...”
“I’ll be! That is a bit strange, isn’t it?”
Talked turned to other things after dinner, but once again, Patsy was forced to see again that Ilatsiak was a man surrounded in mysteries. How would he ever get to the bottom of who he was and how he knew what he did? He didn’t even know where he had gone, except somewhere to the east of them.

* * *
It was good to be away from the strangers living in Bernard’s Harbour, thought Ilatsiak. There were troubling things about them, things he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was all very foggy in his mind and best forgotten like so many other things in his past, all of which now seemed unimportant.
That night, the sledding being good now the temperature had dropped below freezing, he just let the dogs keep pulling as he walked along beside the sled. He kept on going after the others stopped. He'd done that often in the past. They would follow eventually, but this time Ilatsiak decided it would be different. He looked down at his sled as it slipped over the snow and ice. It was heavy with his new possessions and he wondered why he had brought them along. Suddenly, he stopped the dogs and began untying everything. First to go were the new pot and the kettle. Then everything else he had acquired was lying in the snow beside the sled. He only stopped when he looked down at the shiny new knife he had just thrown away. Slowly, he bent down and picked it up. He’d keep that. It might be handier than his old ones made of hammered copper.
The dogs lie curled in the snow waiting for him. With his low gutteral command, they rose and once again headed eastward on the sea ice. Ilatsiak had it in mind to go as far eastward as he could. It was time to be alone. The experience in the trading post would leave him if he could only put enough distance between him and them. He had done that before in his life and he’s do it again. He’d go some place where he could live quietly and think about the better days when he had been young and full of life.

Ilatsiak - 22

2006-11-18T11:20:00.001-08:00

Agayuq was forced to travel north of a direct line towards the strange objects he could see on the shore. In doing so he was better able to see the five strangers moving about and talking among themselves. It was obvious to him that they had seen him as one of them began to point in his direction. He continued towards them, determined to act bravely. He would have a good story to tell the others. Hopefully these strangers would have many interesting objects to give away much like those who had come so long ago.
Agayuk stopped short of the jumbled shore ice and hobbled one of his two dogs by sticking it’s left fore-leg through the part of its sled harness that acted like a collar. This forced the dog to hop on a single front leg and preventing it from dragging the make-shift sled very far if at all. Taking a single dog by its sled trace, Agayuq found his way through the piles of ice at the tide line and walked towards the five men. When he got to within 20 feet, he stopped and waited to see what they would do.
David was beside himself with excitement. Finally, after waiting nearly two years he was going to meet one of the inhabitants of this snowy world. He wracked his brain searching for some of the words he had learned back in Greenland, but now that he needed them, he could scarcely recall any words at all. He looked around at the others. Both Fairholme and Irving were checking their clothing to see if they couldn’t make themselves more presentable for this first encounter. The two crewmen were still leaning against the piled containers, peering over the top, waiting to see what the man would do.
The Eskimo was dressed in a fur jacket of some kind, perhaps deer-skin. He appeared to be very dark skinned, almost black, in fact. Now that he stood in front of them, David could see that he was about the same height as his ship-mates, roughly five and a half feet high. He wore pants made of seal-skins which had sewn patterns running up his legs from about his knees up to his jacket. Tall, brown leather boots on his feet disappeared into his pant bottoms.
They all stood staring at each other for several minutes before, David broke a big smile and said “Kimik” -dog, the word having suddenly jumped into his head. The Eskimo man looked down at his dog and then he too smiled.
“Eee, kimik.” Yes, a dog.
With that David walked up to him and removing his mitt, offered the man his hand. Together they shook, once up and once down, almost in very formal style. This action broke the cultural barrier and all the men then began to shake hands, again in the strange up and down manner. Once this had occured however, there was nothing to say or at least no words with which to say anything with. Again David’s quickness spared their awkwardness by suggesting they boil up some tea. While this was happening, Agayuq began loosening up a bit and started to examine their clothing, especially the shiny metal buttons on their outer parkas. He seemed intrigued with how they held the opening together. David could tell, he was not impressed with their boots, repeating showing David how much better his was, although why it was superior David could not understand.
The men all made an attempt to tell each other their name while tea was being handed out, but Agayuq quickly got muddled trying to pronounce their strange-sounding names. As for the tea, it was hard to tell if he liked it. He took a few sips, and kept looking into the pot as if something were missing. Finally deciding that everyone was getting the same fare, he drank the rest and handed back his cup to David. Once tea was drunk, Agayuq untied his dog, then he began saying something seemingly important and at considerable length, several times pointing dramatically to the east for some reason. Then suddenly David caught the word “umiak” - ship and realised he must be referring to their ships. He pointed back northward, the way they had just come and repeated “umiak, umiak” and at the same time held up two fingers.
This action only seemed to confuse Agayuq who seemed to agree with the two fingers, but again pointed to the southeast. It seemed pointless. There simply was too vast a barrier between them. Suddenly, as if he had forgotten something, Agayuq untied his dog from one of the containers and headed back the way he had come. He turned to smile at them several times, but was soon lost among the jumbled ice to the southeast.

Ilatsiak - 21

2006-11-09T12:15:00.000-08:00

Just a single domino left. If Patsy could jump it he would win and not have to cook all week, but his turn came and went three times with the play still undecided. He was not alone either. His father, the Captain, had had two pieces left but had just lost one, so he now was left with one piece to play. Diamond and John were still actively in the game but both had several dominos left and didn’t pose as big a threat as the Captain.
Footsteps crunched louder in the snow as someone... no, two people, approached the cabin. Then they stopped at the snow porch leading in towards the entrance. After a few seconds the door sprang open and Ilatsiak and Uyarajuk, the camp boss came in bringing with them a cloud of steam and snow. The wind had begun to blow again, bringing back the snow and cold of winter in spite of the late April date. The game paused while everyone recognized each other. Patsy motioned towards the teapot on the stove and then having had to skip his turn again, got up and offered the two visitors a mug from the rack over the sink.
The game went around again. Diamond played his second to last piece, a six and three. The Captain kept peeking at his sole remaining piece and then at the string of pieces on the table seeming to have a hard time deciding where to play. Finally he said “Pass” and the turn moved to John who promptly played two pieces. Now everyone had only a single domino. Glancing back at the table, Patsy let out a whoop and slammed down his domino against John’s two and one. He had won! No cooking all week. Now to play for no dish washing...
Ilatsiak, usually slow moving in his actions, abruptly reached over and grabbed the dominos, almost like someone gone berserk. He peered intently at each one, turning them over and over in his knarled, chubby hands, picking others up and then dropping them as if they were too hot to touch. As he did this, he began entoning something in a strange language neither Inuktitut nor anything that Patsy could understand. He stood rocking slightly from side to side lifting one foot and then the other, his eyes seemed glazed over and dull.
Then without warning he stopped, quickly downed the last of his tea and was gone, the door way again a swirling patch of ice fog and snowflakes. The men listened as the footsteps led away into the night. Uyarayuq followed after thanking Patsy for the tea.
“What was that all about, then?” John was the first to recover from the strange behaviour.
“Beats me,” Diamond said closing the door behind Uyarajuq. “Maybe it would be wise to see him in the morning. It seemed the dominos set him off or something. Might be interesting to know more. You free after breakfast, Patsy?”
“Sure, I’m not cooking, remember?” he joked.
The game won and the time well past midnight, they turned down the lamp and began to bed down.
The next norning, Ilatsiak and many of the others from his camp were already distant specks out on the sea ice when Patsy heard Diamond making porridge and boiling water for the coffee. As he got dressed, the drifting snow, blowing even more strongly across the flat sea ice began to obliterate the dog sled tracks and erase the dark specks from view to those left behind at Barnard’s Harbour. Patsy never saw Ilatsiak again, yet the old man’s story haunted him for the rest of his days like a ghost who would suddenly appear and then fade away, only to return years later in another spot. Slowly, as he moved from place to place, from settlement to settlement along the coast of northern Canada, he began to piece together Ilatsiak’s story, who he was and how he had come to Bernard’s Harbour that day long ago. It was a curious tale and a remarkable one.

Ilatsiak - 20

2006-11-07T18:59:00.000-08:00

David spent a lot of this time in the crow’s nest looking at the new land around him. At one point he was certain he saw people on the shore of Boothia. A few were paddling around in their kayaks, but then fog rolled in and cut off the view, making it impossible to take a boat over to meet them. Sir John assured David during dinner that evening that there would be plenty of opportunities during the long winter to meet any native people who might be in the area. David’s heart lept at the thought of renewing his adventures with them as he had the natives of Greenland, but he was surprised to hear that Sir John thought they would be spending another winter in the ice...
* * *
Lt. Fairholme looked around for David. “That lad is never where you want him,” he said half to himself as well as to Lt Irving. Even in the small magnetic observation camp here on Cape Felix, David had managed to go missing just when he was needed.“Never saw such an inquisitive boy.” Fairholme continued to himself as he ducked into the main supply tent and cast a quick glance around. Irving shook his head. The boys on the Terror had not turned out much better. His boy Evans was always up to something with Master Peglar and never where he ought to be either. Suddenly David’s head poked up from between the pile of stacked boxes.
“You want me, sir?”
“Yes, Mr. Young. We’re ready to leave.” Fairholme tried speaking in his most commanding tone. “We would appreciate your presence outside.”
“Yes sir. I just want to pack an extra pair of mitts.”
“They won’t be needed, Mr Young. It’s mid-May. Fine weather will be here any day now. Just come along. We wish to leave immediately.”
“Of course, as you say, sir.” David had his doubts, but he came around from the stacks of supplies and followed Fairholme and Irving out of the tent into the brillant sunshine. Cape Felix looked much like any other spot on the northern tip of land they found themselves, a flat series of stoney, snow covered raised beaches, slowly rising to an inland plain of low ridges and still frozen sedge ponds which stretched southward into the distance. The two men joined others who stood waiting for them outside the obervation tent. This was the only building which was designed to be somewhat permanent. In fact, it was the same pre-fabricated building the expedition had used on the Whitefish Islands off Greenland, and during the previous winter on Beechey Island.
“Gentlemen, our party is complete. We’re off!”
The five men began their march. The objective was the supply depot the Terror had deposited off the northernmost of the Matty Islands. It was hoped than these supples could be sledged overland to Cape Felix and placed back on the Terror now that a commitment had been made to follow the west coast of Prince William Land. Three men, picked from the two crews as much for their continuing good health as anything else pulled a light sled of supplies for the exploratory trip south along the east coast of King William Land. Later, larger crews would sledge the material back once a feasible route was determined.
The first day the easy pulling over the snow covered ground went well and 15 miles were made to the southwest before they stopped for the night. David was glad to stop. The whole day Lt Irving had made it his business to torment him for some unknown reason. As well, they were forever moving between the land and the sea ice. Granted in some places they had had to walk on the sea ice itself as the snow cover was too thin on the land to allow the sledge easy travelling, but Irving seemed to enjoy making a game of it switching back and forth for no real reason. This would not have presented a problem had it not been for the jumble of ice caused by the tides which had to be passed through each way. At night, David was forced to play a game of dominos, just he and Irving. The others seemed not to be able to play, or knew that this was Irving’s was of treating those he saw as his servants. Irving must have lifted the game from the Terror to entertain himself at the Observation site. The game had a sinister wrinkle to it which David soon found out. Each time he was unable to play a piece, Irving would demand a piece of meat from David’s next meal. Irving, being the much more practiced player, David found himself forfeiting his meal, and he became more and more frustrated by Irving’s bullying attitude not to mention the glee with which he kept describing how much bigger his next meal was getting. Fairholme chose to take no notice of David’s plight and never intervened. On the third day, they were forced entirely onto the sea ice because of the bareness of the land and its increasingly rocky nature. Around noon, the low lying Matty Islands became visible offshore. Fairholme was keen to cross over to them immediately, making a direct line for them, however Lt Irving held to the original plan of crossing at the narrowest point. He was anxious to avoid getting too far out on the ice where it might be thin and weak. He had made it very clear that he was afraid of going through the ice and for this reason he made David walk a few paces in front of him. He would joke to Fairholme about how grateful he was to have Franklin’s little ice tester out in front of the expedition. Once he passed the comment that when David did plunge into the water, he would get his whole ration rather than a few bites. David had little choice in all this, but to do as he was told, and again Fairholme seemed unwilling to stand up to Irving’s meanness. In the end, Irving’s longer route was followed although it did add an extra day to their trek. The crossing itself went smoothly, the only obstacle being a wide crack which forced them to detour several miles northward before they found a narrow section they could all jump across.
Had it not been for Irving, David would have been happy to be away from the ships and in the open air again. The forced enclosure of on-board life was not his style. He much preferred the outdoors and the freedom it offered. The first winter at Beechey, while much of it was also spent within the confines of the ship, had at least been a novelty to some extent. This past winter had passed much more slowly. First there were none of the on-shore activities, nor were there the sledging trips and exploring they had done the previous year from Beechey Island. The general mood below decks was also less enthusiastic. More men were in sick-bay, the food was less and less to their liking. In fact, David was sure that the food was one of the factors which was making so many men sick. And now more men were ending up like Irving, seeming to delight in making the lives of others as miserable as they could.
The second day on the island they realised that yet another stretch of ice would have to be crossed to reach the depot. Tides running between the two islands had opened up much of the water forcing them once again to circle some distance northward before they felt safe crossing the ice. Before leaving the safety of the first island, they left behind about a third of their supplies to lighten their load.
Finally safe on the easternmost island, it was a short haul to the supplies which stood clearly up out of the flat, dreay landscape. Fairholme and Irving had placed a private wager on whether the supplies had been broken into during the winter. Fairholme lost. The supplies seemed to have been untouched and apart from having some of the canvas covers blown open and torn by the nearly constant winter winds, they were exactly as they remembered them having been left. David was on Fairholme’s side of the bet, not out of any loyalty, but rather because he hoped a break-in would indicate the presence of Eskimos in the area, something he had been hoping would happen sooner rather than later.
While the men and David set about erecting the tents for the evening, Fairholme and Irving made a more detailed inspection of the supplies. Some of the crates were certainly going to present difficulties moving them by sledge. These items might be best moved by ship’s launch during the coming summer and put directly on board, Surely this could be done before the ships moved south through the passage they were presently beset in. The remaining supplies could be moved by sledge provided the ice conditions did not deteriorate too rapidly. Fairholme and Irving were both astounded at how much further advanced the season seemed to be however, on this side of King William Land.
Once in the tents and preparing the evening meal, Fairholme announced to the others the decision to return immediately to the ships the following day. For once Irving had not pulled out his bag of dominos, which pleased David. Fairhomle explained how, if supplies were to be moved it would have to be done immediately before the ice deteriorated much further. David was disappointed with this news. He had hoped to continue exploring southward, but this was not to be if they were to return immediately.
Fairholme and Irving were up early and began urging the others to make haste packing the sledge for the return ship. David suddenly had an idea which, if accepted, would solve both his immediate problems.
“Lt Fairholme, sir. I would like to volunteer to stay with the supplies and protect them, until the sledge party returns, sir, if this meets your approval.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, David knew what the answer would be. Fairholme would see it as another attempt to shirk his duties aboard ship. Irving would certainly object as David was not a member of Terror’s crew, nor would he have anyone to torment on the return leg of the trip.
“Mr Young, that’s a generous offer, but as you can see, no one has disturbed the site for the past nine months. Lt Irving, what do you think...”
“Lt Irving, there’s someone out there... coming... Look sir. Lt Fairholme, out on the ice, to the east, there, maybe a half mile out!” The two crew-men were pointing to a dark figure, about half a mile out from shore, and slowly making his way towards them, leading a dog.
“I’ll be damned... Mr Young, you might get your wish after all. You and Mr Shanks here might find yourselves camp-mates for a while.” Lt Fairholme used his scope to study the figure out on the ice. His dog was dragging something while he walked towards them. He was using a tall stick of some kind which he jabbed into the ice as he walked alone towards the depot.
“Eskimos!” thought David. “Eskimos... Finally!”

Ilatsiak - 19

2006-11-04T07:38:00.001-08:00

David was not among the crew that went to the Terror’s assistance, but it soon became apparent that she was fairly hard aground on a falling tide. To make matters worse, a thick fog and pans of heavy ice began drifting in from the north-west together with a rising breeze. However, Sir John was confident she would float off on the high tide later in the evening, and so took the opportunity to call a conference in his cabin of the two Captains together with Misters Reid and Blanky, the ships’ Ice Masters. He was particularly interested in the advice of Mr Blanky of the Terror who had some knowledge of the coast gathered when he had sailed with Sir John Ross’s Victory in the 1830’s.
As usual, David served the evening meal in Sir John’s cabin, this time to the five men. It was obvious that very serious dicussions where being held and not without some considerable disagreement. Maps and charts were spread about, even on the floor which was not Sir John’s usual style. As well, David was frequently asked to search the ship’s library for various books and reports of earlier explorers who had had some familiarity with this region and whose journals might lend some advice to the ship’s predictament about exactly in which direction to head.
It was finally resolved that the ships would be unable to continue in the present southeasterly direction into what seemed to be a narrow and increasingly shallow channel which in any event probably ended in the low lying land seen by Ross to the southeast. Crozier argued forceably that the strong tidal flow passing the hull of the Terror could only be the result of a passageway into the straits discovered by Simpson and Dease. Mr Blanky was pressed over and over again to give a firm answer to the problem of whether a waterway could exist to the south. He could not be sure. He had only seen the country during the winter when all was frozen and snow covered. It was almost impossible to tell when one stood on ice covered sea or low lying land. Only by actually digging into the snow could one tell for sure. All the same, if there was a passage, he felt, it would be difficult for the two ships to traverse on account of the low lying islands and no doubt more of the shallows such as they had already encountered. He reminded both captains that their deep drafts of 17 feet or so and the difficulty of manuovering such large ships as the Erebus and Terror could easily get them into difficulty in such shallow and confining waters.
Relectantly, especially on the part of Crozier, it was agreed that in spite of the obvious difficulties it would present, the only practical solution would be to try and drive the ships through the old, heavy ice in the larger channel to the west of King Willand Land. It was still early in the season and there was reason to assume the ice would continue to melt during the month of August and probably loosen sufficently in the next few weeks to permit them to advance southward just as it had earlier at the entrance to Peel Sound. If they were unable to make it through this season using the engines, then surely they would be flushed out the following Spring. Crozier had argued strongly for a second attempt to enter the eastern Inlet, his main argument being the fact that the engines were nowhere near up to the task of making any progress in such heavy ice as had been encountered, but it was finally vetoed by Sir John and seconded by Fitzjames. To satisfy his curiousity, it was agreed that Crozier would be permitted to take a ship’s boat southward into the Inlet and map it’s coastlines if the ships were beset early, but this was thought unlikely given the recent good weather. Only the Ice Masters reserved judgement claiming the heavy multi-year old ice to the west was considerably thicker and heavier than they were used to seeing in their whaling experience prior to this present voyage. Neither of them viewed entering the ice pack with much enthusiasm, but agreed that it seemed their only option other than retreating back up Peel Sound which no one was yet prepared to do. Only the experience of the two ships previously in the Antarctic and the special iron sheathing and solid wood strengthening at the bows which had been performed especially for this voyage convinced Franklin that the ships were up to the challenge of the ice.
The high tide did not float the Terror free as expected. Anxious to be off, Capt Crozier began immediately off-loading various supplies and shipping them to shore on a nearby island with the understand of making a small depot which would be picked up later if necessary. This operation took most of the following two watches when on their return, the boat crews and the ship’s engine were finally able to back the Terror off the shoal and into deeper water. The crews then returned to the depot to make it tight for the coming months until it could be retrieved later during the fall or spring to come. In order that the cases not come to harm from the sea storming over the low lying island, Crozier gave the order that the depot be made on high ground which turned out to be about 300 feet from the shoreline. Most of the cases contained flour sealed inside the usual red painted tins. A few of the other cases contained ships’ biscuit and a small amount of pemmican. The whole depot was made secure with a canvas cover which in turn was nailed tight by long, wide, thick planks nailed into the wooden crates.
The grounding had not done the Terror much damage although the carpenters spent the next several days checking several areas of planking which had sprung and were leaking slightly.
Sir John then sent the Crozier and the Terror westward along the ice edge in hopes of finding some opening to the west, but after only a few hours of sailing it proved hopeless, the ice edge curving in a more and more northernly direction until it was seen to attach itself to the southern tip of Prince of Wales Island. To the west, the heavy ice extended to the westward to the horizon and beyond. Somewhat shaken by the prospects, Crozier gave the order to come about and turned back to Cape Felix to report to the anchored Erebus.
Fitzjames, in the Erebus, had had little luck in pushing his way through the heavy ice of the western channel. It was simply too heavy and thick, made up as it was of multi-year ice which had partly thawed only to refreeze again and again year after year turning it into an iron hard substance more than equal to any wooden hulled ship. This situation of searching here and there along the ice edge for an open channel continued through the month of August, 1846 when the fine summer weather began to fail, the darkness of night returned in ernest and then, late in the month, an early winter drop in temperature below the freezing mark found the ships once again frozen into the ice about a mile distant from each other, with little hope of making any further progress through the passage this year. In the end, it was simply a matter of deciding the best possible site to be beset in order to float through to the southwest the following summer. To the great disappointment of everyone they would have to spend their second winter where they were and not sailing through tropical seas, a victory in hand.

Ilatsiak - 19

2006-11-04T07:38:00.000-08:00

David was not among the crew that went to the Terror’s assistance, but it soon became apparent that she was fairly hard aground on a falling tide. To make matters worse, a thick fog and pans of heavy ice began drifting in from the north-west together with a rising breeze. However, Sir John was confident she would float off on the high tide later in the evening, and so took the opportunity to call a conference in his cabin of the two Captains together with Misters Reid and Blanky, the ships’ Ice Masters. He was particularly interested in the advice of Mr Blanky of the Terror who had some knowledge of the coast gathered when he had sailed with Sir John Ross’s Victory in the 1830’s.
As usual, David served the evening meal in Sir John’s cabin, this time to the five men. It was obvious that very serious discussions where being held and not without some considerable disagreement. Maps and charts were spread about, even on the floor which was not Sir John’s usual style. As well, David was frequently asked to search the ship’s library for various books and reports of earlier explorers who had had some familiarity with this region and whose journals might lend some advice to the ship’s predictament about exactly in which direction to head.
It was finally resolved that the ships would be unable to continue in the present southeasterly direction into what seemed to be a narrow and increasingly shallow channel which in any event probably ended in the low lying land seen by Ross to the southeast. Crozier argued forceably that the strong tidal flow passing the hull of the Terror could only be the result of a passageway into the straits discovered by Simpson and Dease. Mr Blanky was pressed over and over again to give a firm answer to the problem of whether a waterway could exist to the south. He could not be sure. He had only seen the country during the winter when all was frozen and snow covered. It was almost impossible to tell when one stood on ice covered sea or low lying land. Only by actually digging into the snow could one tell for sure. All the same, if there was a passage, he felt, it would be difficult for the two ships to traverse on account of the low lying islands and no doubt more of the shallows such as they had already encountered. He reminded both captains that their deep drafts of 17 feet or so and the difficulty of manuovering such large ships as the Erebus and Terror could easily get them into difficulty in such shallow and confining waters.
Relectantly, especially on the part of Crozier, it was agreed that in spite of the obvious difficulties it would present, the only practical solution would be to try and drive the ships through the old, heavy ice in the larger channel to the west of King Willand Land. It was still early in the season and there was reason to assume the ice would continue to melt during the month of August and probably loosen sufficently in the next few weeks to permit them to advance southward just as it earlier at the entrance to Peel Sound. If they were unable to make it through this season using the engines, then surely they would be flushed out the following Spring. Crozier had argued strongly for a second attempt to enter the eastern Inlet, his main argument being the fact that the engines were nowhere near up to the task of making any progress in such heavy ice as had been encountered, but it was finally vetoed by Sir John and seconded by Fitzjames. To satisfy his curiousity, it was agreed that Crozier would be permitted to take a ship’s boat southward into the Inlet and map it’s coastlines if the ships were beset early, but this was thought unlikely given the recent good weather. Only the Ice Masters reserved judgement claiming the heavy multi-year old ice to the west was considerably thicker and heavier than they were used to seeing in their whaling experience prior to this present voyage. Neither of them viewed entering the ice pack with much enthusiasm, but agreed that it seemed their only option other than retreat back up Peel Sound which no one was yet prepared to do. Only the experience of the two ships previously in the Antarctic and the special iron bow sheathing and solid wood strengthening at the bows which had been performed especially for this voyage convinced Franklin that the ships were up to the challenge of the ice.
The high tide did not float theTerror free as expected. Anxious to be off, Capt Crozier began immediately off-loading various supplies and shipping them to shore on a nearby island with the understand of making a small depot which would be picked up later if necessary. This operation took most of the following two watches when on their return, the boat crews and the ship’s engine were finally able to back the Terror off the shoal and into deeper water. The crews then returned to the depot to make it tight for the coming months until it could be retrieved later during the fall or spring to come. In order that the cases not come to harm from the sea storming over the low lying island, Crozier gave the order that the depot be made on high ground which turned out to be about 300 feet from the shoreline. Most of the cases contained flour sealed inside the usual red painted tins. A few of the other cases contained ships’ biscuit and a small amount of pemmican. The whole depot was made secure with a canvas cover which in turn was nailed tight by long, wide, thick planks nailed into the wooden crates.
The grounding had not done the Terror much damage although the carpenters spent the next several days checking several areas of planking which had sprung and were leaking slightly.
Sir John then sent the Crozier and theTerror westward along the ice edge in hopes of finding some opening to the west, but after only a few hours of sailing it proved hopeless, the ice edge curving in a more and more northernly direction until it was seen to attach itself to the southern tip of Prince of Wales Island. To the west, the heavy ice extended to the westward to the horizon and beyond. Somewhat shaken by the prospects, Crozier gave the order to come about and she turned back to Cape Felix to report to the anchored Erebus.
Fitzjames in the Erebus had had little luck in pushing his way through the heavy ice of the western channel. It was simply too heavy and thick, made up as it was of multi-year ice which had partly thawed only to refreeze again and again year after year turning it into an iron hard substance more than equal any wooden hulled ship.This situation of searching here and there along the ice edge for an open channel continued through the month of August, 1846 when the fine summer weather began to fail, the darkness of night returned in ernest and then, late in the month, an early winter drop in temperature below the freezing mark found the ships once again frozen into the ice with little hope of making any further progress through the passage this year. In the end, it was simply a matter of deciding the best possible site to be beset in order to float through to the southwest the following summer. To the great disappointment of everyone they would have to spend their second winter where they were and not sailing through tropical seas, a victory in hand.

Ilatsiak - 18

2006-10-26T06:08:00.000-07:00

Ilatsiak continued to fascinate Patsy, the young clerk and even while he was employed in the cold, dark warehouse of his father’s trading post, his mind would creep back to the old man. A few days after the remarkable performance he had given, Patsy had a chance to ask Ilatsiak how a person became a shaman. Was it the same for everyone, or did one have to be chosen? How had he become so knowledgeable in these crafts?
At first Ilatsiak was quiet. Patsy knew this was not a topic one usually went into. It was even rude to have brought it up, but Patsy’s curiousity got the better of him and he figured the old man would just assume that non-Inuit people were just rude by their very nature and there wasn’t much one could do about it. However Ilatsiak was thinking more about how he might tell his story without appearing to be impolite himself. He knew it was rude to boast that one had special gifts or powers which others did not have. So before he finally told Patsy his story, Ilatsiak gave out a long explanation about how useless he was, how he knew nothing really, and how Patsy was surely wasting his time with his visit and his questions. He claimed it was nothing special and probably other people had better claims to having the knowledge to be shaman than he did.
During the second or maybe it was the third summer after he nearly died from being sick - he couldn’t remember anymore, but he was still living with his father, old Akayuk - he went fishing all alone on one of the small streams which flowed from the center of Kikertak. Ilatsiak remembered being intrigued with the way fish could be caught using a 'kugivuq', the two-pronged harpoon which held the fish on two sides while the center barb impailed it. Made of springy caribou antler material carefully carved to shape and laced onto the shaft, it was a very effective fish catching tool, but it required a certain amount of skill, something he didn’t have at that time.
Ilatsiak explained how as he was intently watching the fish swim up to the stone weir where they could be speared, he slowly realised he was being watched. Assumming it was one of the local people come to watch his ineptitude, he paid no attention and continued to practice his skill at fish spearing. When he heard a noise he didn’t recognize he turned and what seemed to be a spirit-like creature appeared to him. Taken by surprise, Ilatsiak let out a yell and turned to run, nearly falling on the slippery rocks which made up the ancient weir. As he regained his balance, he stopped, nearly falling a second time. The spirit seemed to be accompanied by other spirits, but Ilatsiak could not clearly see these others. He was very much afraid of them, and when they approached he asked if he was going to die. The spirit, apparently a youngish man about his own age, said no. He went on to tell Ilatsiak that he would live to be an old man, in fact, saying he would live to be one of the oldest.
The spirit then took the 'kugivuq' from Ilatsiak and with a quick jab at the water, caught a tom-cod for him, a fish not usually found in fresh water. This he swung right up to Ilatsiak’s mouth, spear and all and made him eat it, fresh and cold, still dripping with the water it had come from. Ilatsiak was terrified, but did as he was told. The young spirit person then told him that by eating this fish he had gained special magical powers which only shamen possessed. He was told that these powers would gradually become apparent to him over time as he learned more.
The spirit then went home with him, all the while talking with him, explaining that he had been sent to work together with Ilatisk for the benefit of the Inuit. They would meet often in the years to come, each time giving him various magical words and phrases which would be useful and which could provide the power to do various things like cure illness, find game and so on. He was also warned by the spirit never to eat the intestines of any animal, only meat and fat. When they arrived in camp, the spirit disappeared. Ilatsiak explained however that he had seen this spirit many times over the years although it had now been many years since their last encounter.
As happened so frequently during these visits of Patsy’s, the old man would seem to run out of steam. The words coming from him began to come more and more slowly until finally they stopped altogether. It was as if the old man’s thoughts would slowly drift away, like snow before the ever-blowing wind.
Patsy stared at him hoping there was more, but there didn’t seem to be this time. He was gone again. Funny guy, thought Patsy, so spry and agile for someone his age, his movements usually so vigorous and full of energy, his every move so quick and decided. Sitting there, bolt upright, even in his dream-like state, Patsy thought he appeared calm and dignified. He was certainly much admired by his fellows who treated him as the father figure of them all. Patsy straighten up and looked over at him. Yes, he was shorter than most of the people he had come to Bernard Harbour with. He even looked somewhat grave, especially with his thin, white beard and his slow-moving personality which projected an air of knowing all things, even the unknowable. He was definitely a man whose integrity was beyond question, someone who was never talked about except in awe. He was certainly a shaman, and a powerful one at that.

Ilatsiak - 17

2006-10-22T11:24:00.000-07:00

Not for the first time, David overheard the officers on the Erebus complaining about the behaviour of the Terror. Crozier seemed to lag behind and at one point head directly westward rather than follow them south into Peel Strait. Fitzjames finally flew signal flags to direct the Terror southward, but it was some time before she was seen to turn and follow them. Clearly, the feelings among the officiers of the two ships was beginning to wear thin and it was becoming more obvious to all now that they were at sea and not all under the direct eye of Sir John. In fact, there was a story circulating between decks that Capt. Crozier had actually written to Sir John Ross from Greenland the previous July suggesting to him that Sir John be relieved of command because of his lack of judgement, his ignorance of ships in the ice, not to mention his too easy way with the men. How true this was, David had no way of knowing, but it was said to have been discussed among the officers on the Terror during the winter lay over. Certainly Commander Franklin did not live up to the stories David had always heard of the harsh discipline handed out by Royal Navy captain for even minor offenses.
As the eastward heading stream of ice became thicker the ships began to strain against it. On the fourth day, Prince of Wales Island was in sight and by mid-day the two ships found themselves through most of the heavy ice pans they had encountered the day before. Then, as if by magic, the heavy ice had suddenly disappeared entirely. It was as if the Northwest Passage was opening up before them. Once again, orders rang out to set all sails and the ships steered through the occasional clumps of loose pans with relative ease. On the southern shore of Barrow Strait, with Cape Walker clearly visible ahead, heavy multi-year ice was once again encountered. This time it was a solid cover and did not appear to move. Rather it seemed to be frozen solidly to the shorelines only a few miles to the south. Accordingly both ships set out ice anchors alongside the floes and waited to see what would happen. This practice had become a familiar one to those on board both ships. A year previously, nearly to the day, they had been tied up to an ice floe in Baffin Bay, waiting for a chance to sail into Lancaster Sound when two whalers, the Enterprise and the Prince of Wales were sighted and several officers had been entertained for dinner by Captain Dannett. Those two ships were the last they had seen since entering the ice, however there were bets on for the first ship sighting of the year. So far there had been no ships sighted, but some still had hopes of winning the monetary prize.
This situation continued for another few days of clear calm weather. On the third day as the tide changed a call came down from the mast-head lookout that the ships were in fact drifting eastwards. The ice had begun to move. Once again sails were set and as the two ships, now sailing in close company again, began to make their way southward into the open entrance of Peel Sound. The further they sailed, the more the ice appeared to separate and pull apart, allowing the ships easier and easier passage southward in Peel Sound. It was becoming more and more clear to Franklin and his captains that Prince of Wales Island could well be the key to the passage they were seeking as it served to block the heavy ice streaming out of Melville Sound through the western part of Parry Channel. Peel Sound could very well continue directly southward into the area around King William Land first seen by Sir John Ross in 1833 if no land bridge were found to connect Somerset Island to the east with Prince of Wales to the west. This possibility existed and some tentitive charts had dotted lines suggesting a barrier had been seen but not confirmed. In any event, the clear sailing which was opening up to the ships would provide the answer to this question within a day or two at the most. If Peel Sound was in fact a strait, the passage was in hand. Once through the strait, they had but to navigate the passage seen by Ross along King William Land’s western coastline to join the passage travelled in Dease and Simpson in 1838. Once there, then it would seem the secret of the Northwest Passage was at hand!
Just as had occurred last summer, all hands were elated at their success and how easy the passage was going to be. The brilliant sunshine lasting twenty-four hours a day helped as well to brighten the spirits of the men. The fourteen in sick bay on board the Erebus were brought up on deck and David was kept busy seeing to their care on the heeled-over open deck.
Several days later the answer was not so assured. While Peel Sound did indeed open into a strait leading south, the ships once again both encountered old, heavy, solidly packed ice just north of King William Island and especially in the southwest quarter, exactly the direction in which they wished to go. Once again, the order was given to anchor, and wait for either a melt or some other clearing trend to occur.
When an easterly wind blew all night while at anchor, the report from the crow’s nest in the early watch revealed that there was open water to the southeast. Although it was thought that there was no navigable exit at the head of James Ross Inlet which led into Poctes Bay, sufficent doubt exisited in Ross’s notes to encourage Sir John to decide to proceed in a southeasterly manner to check. Cautiously, the two ships entered the inlet under steam power. Strict instructions were given to cast for soundings frequently as it was apparent from the state of the grounded ice extending some distance especially from the low lying shores of the islands seen to the northeast of Cape Felix that numerous reefs must extend for a considerable distance eastward. As the day progressed, the shallows forced the two ships with their deep 17 foot draughts more and more to the east against the equally uncharted shore of Boothia.
In the late afternoon, the officers on duty on theErebus received a message yelled down from the crow’s nest that theTerror was signaling that she was aground about a mile to the west of the Erebus. At the news Capt. Fitzjames immediately brought the Erebus into the wind and set the ship’s anchors. The order was given to lower boats and proceed to assist the Terror.

Ilatsiak - 16

2006-10-18T11:55:00.000-07:00

The little house was only 18 feet long by 12 feet wide, hardly large enough for five men, but in fact five scientists had managed to stuff themselves into it and call it their arctic winter quarters. The lumber to build it had had to come all the way from Alaska as none was to be found on the coast in the area of Bernard Harbour. It was rough sawn, about 1000 feet of it. There was a single window with three panes of glass facing the sunny south. In order that it might be warmer for the winter, the five scientists covered the whole house, walls and roof with square sods cut from the nearby tundra meadows during the summer and recently hauled from there to the house site by dog-sled.
The frame work went up easily enough in only three days. The turf-work to cover the sides and roof of the house had been then split among the men. At first, this proceeded rapidly, but when one section reached the eves, it suddenly collapsed under its own weight requiring the whole side to be started again, this time with a wider base. Each man began looking at how wide their base was and began to re-enforce their walls as well rather than suffer a similar structual failure!
None of the men - all scientists more used to living in southern climes - had any carpentry experience, so the house took on some peculiar twists and one wall sagged so much from the weight of the turf lying against it that any building inspector who might have passed by would have immediately required it to be demolished. Instead of taking such a dramatic step, the men simply added a few additional supports where appropriate, lightened the turf insolation here and there and considered the building job a success.
On one end of the building a large deck was built with the remaining lumber on which was piled all the supplies and equipment required for their stay. Once everything was stored and in place, the whole deck area was covered with a large canvas tarpaulin and tied down to resist the coming winter storms. The end result was a building which was to become more or less “home” to the scientists during the years 1915 and 1916. In later years, the building was taken over by the Anglican mission for several years and in fact stood for many years after that - a testiment to its builders!
Patsy wandered into this building two years after it was first built. “Anyone still having trouble finding their way out?” he called out as he walked through the door. In the early days, several Inuit, not being familar with wooden houses searched in vain for a door indicating the way out once they had entered. While it didn’t happen any longer, it had been a great source of fun in the early days when watching the poor person wander about the house would peer into this place and that searching for the exit door. What seemed to some to be so obvious wasn’t to those not familiar with doors and it had been a major source of entertainment for the white people present.
“Problem seems to be too many people finding their way in!” came back the quick reply. Patsy squeezed in past the stack of crates being used as shelving next to the door and picked his way towards another, lower crate which also doubled as a chair next to the central table. “Remember back when you first came? Not an Inuk in sight for miles no matter how we searched. Must be 30 or 40 out there now. Where’d they all come from...?”
“I hear we’ve a bunch from Bathurst Inlet. Now that’s quite a ways, especially the way they travel. Most of them have to walk. They’ve so few dogs”
“So the scientists had heard about them.” thought Patsy to himself. “And have you met the old man. Ilatsiak’s his name. The real old one, a shaman I would say. He’s kinda strange, yet interesting.”
“Diamond was over to see him this morning. I think he might perform for us. We wouldn’t mind if you were here if and when he does, to help with any translating that might need doing. You know how it gets when they get going, talking a mile a minute!”
“Sure, no problem.” Patsy was glad to be asked. Watching shamen perform was often good entertainment even if he thought them to be big phonies, and getting paid to be there, well, that made it even better. Having these scientists at the trading post was going to work out just fine!

* * *
When first approached Ilatsiak did not seem to be much interested in performing his rites for the white visitors. He answered that he might be able to come some day, but it seemed clear that day would be a long time coming. However just a few days later, while at the house to see if he could trade something for a little sugar, he became interested in the scientists’ phonograph machine which they had been recording and playing back a number of different people’s voices. On the spot, he wanted to record himself and even to summon his spirit helper Kingaudlik. As Ilatsiak was rather short, Patsy and the other men got a box for him to stand on so he could speak directly into the speaker horn to record himself. It was quite an amusing sight to see the old man, almost imp-like, an old elf incarnate, peering into the horn while he danced around on the box, kicking his feet back as if skipping a rope like a child. Suddenly, without going through any of the usual build-up and preliminary antics, he began speaking into the horn. Just as quickly it was over and he jumped down and demanded to hear his spirit talking to him. Most of what played back were the sounds made by his feet shuffling as he danced on the box. Some speech was audible, mostly something to do with wanting liver, Patsy translated to the excited scientists.
After this rather unsatisfactory beginning, Ilatsiak was unstoppable. He immediately proposed to have a proper sceance in a large snow house built for the occasion. When this was ready and everyone, including half the assembled population was present, jammed into the large dance house, Ilatsiak began. He came from out of the crowd and moved slowly about the open space in the center, his eyes slightly glassy and his face contorted. “I need a cup of water...” his voice squeaked out as if he was already possessed. Once it was produced, he stopped his pacing and stared into it for a long moment. “There is something very wrong.” he squeaked again. “There is trouble, something is wrong on the schooner. Someone will drown, soon.” Ilatsiak then slowly drank the water, then walked around looking at all the white men present, shaking their hands very solemnly. At this point, he walked up to the phonograph machine, said, “Begin!” and began to deliver a long and tangled oracle. As best as Patsy was able to make out afterwards through the mingling voices and the sounds and callings of the assembly, Ilatsiak or his spirit associate spoke mostly about some terrible occurrance from the past. “Did you do it?” he called out several times as if pleading to someone. This was followed by “The fish ate them. They say that. It was the fish that ate the people. It is terrifying! The fish ate all the people, swallowing them, those far-away people. They were all distroyed. They were on the sea when it happened and the fish came and ate them.” At this point the crowd made quite a lot of noise as they got caught up in the terrifying references being made by Ilatsiak. Later his voice again dominated the recording and Patsy was able to understand him to say, “The dogs, the dogs, everything is distroyed, easily distroyed, seized with pain..” at this point Ilatsiak grabs his stomach and writhes about as if in pain himself, finally throwing himself to the floor where he lay motionless for a few minutes and then he gradually came to and was helped to a seat on one of the benches along the side of the snow house which had been covered with caribou skins.
Many in the crowd seemed to know of this spirit visitation from previous encounters. It seemed to be a well known story, but apart from learning of it from its having been spoken of before and that it happened a long way away to the east where many unhappy souls resided, no one was willing to talk about it further with Patsy, and certainly not the scientists.
Ilatsiak was not finished however. Once recovered, he again returned to the phonograph and began another sceance with the same spirit as before. This time, the spirit spent a few moments reminding the scientists of the promise to pay Ilatsiak for his work as a shaman although the idea was never been directly mentioned to him as far as anyone could recall. It seems even the spirit world is concerned with the proper settling of accounts, financial and otherwise. Once this part was over, the spirit returned to the previous theme about being eaten. It was especially concerned that the scientists’ schooner would be eated by the giant fish much like the same fish had eaten ships in the past. Special , strong magic would have to be used to see that such a thing did not happen. Ilatsiak finally finished by reminding everyone present that the spirit spoke only the truth and this should be remembered. He then backed away from the horn, but then suddenly, as if having forgotten, moved closer and gave a series of gasps and grunts as if to signal the spirit was leaving him and returning to it’s spiritual home. He then turned and headed directly to the snowhouse door and was gone.

Ilatsiak - 15

2006-10-15T09:50:00.000-07:00

Getting Ilatisak to talk about the old days was never easy, but Patsy kept trying. Old stores of the area between the MacKenzie delta and Victoria Island where he had grown up in were always fascinating and Patsy was old enough to know that life was rapidly changing for everyone. Talking with old people was the only way to learn about the past and Ilatisak seemed to have lots of stories to tell if he could be coaxed.
“Were there many stories about white men when you were young, old man?” Patsy had assumed that because none of these people had actually seen white men, they would naturally not have stories to tell about them.
“Oh yes, many stories were told in the old days.” claimed Ilatsiak. “But not for a long time now. I had thought that white men had died off entirely because we had not heard stories or seen them for so long. I was very surprised to hear about you and your father coming here. In the past, it was thought by most people that white people lived in the east or maybe in the far north. Most of our stories told about them dying once they got to our land because they were not real people and could not live like real men.”
“Well, we came from the west, and we won’t be dying for a while yet, old man!”
“Well, it’s because your Mother is an Inuk. Your Father was wise to have married her. Now he will be able to live here like me.” Ilatsiak laughed at his own cleverness. “Perhaps white men from the east are not so smart, eh?”
“Maybe not,” said Patsy, “Maybe not...”
He offered the old man some chewing tobacco he had lifted out of his father’s trade goods, not usually with the idea of sharing it, but because he liked to chew a little himself. It made him feel just a little bit older, more mature. Ilatsiak smelled it and put some in his mouth, but didn’t chew it. “Chew it!” Patsy insisted, but the old man was gone again, into his dreamy state. This time however he didn’t talk or look at him. Then suddenly Ilatsiak came to, spit out the tobacco and struggled to get up. “You should go now.” he abruptly told Patsy. He looked the other way seeming to re-enter his dream world as if Patsy had already left.
“What a strange old man...” Patsy thought to himself as he rose from the caribou skin they had both been sitting on. “Bye, old man!” he murmured as he headed back along the beach towards the trader’s house, but he didn’t get an answer.
* * *
Patsy looked at his father’s old hands as they hugged his tea mug. They were a deep mahogany brown, weathered like the driftwood found on arctic beaches, but polished a deeper, richer brown. The hands that carried me as a baby, he thought. Those hands, so knarled and full of life could warm a tea mug, sail a ship and cuddle a baby.
“Where there lots of ships here in the old days, Papa?”
The old man seemed to be quiet a long time before he suddenly answered him. It was as if he was silently visiting each ship and inquiring after its captain for permisson to come aboard and count the crew.
“No, very few... Maybe only one or two. Collinson, way back in 1855 is the only one I know of, that I have heard about. I think he went to Cambridge Bay. Oh, and there was McClure in 1854 or so, but he went over to Banks Island and may not have been here.”
“The old man, Ilatsiak. His words keep running around in my head. He is a strange one.”
Patsy got up and rinsed his mug at the sink, using the scoop from the water barrel.
“Can you talk to the scientists? You said you would. They’re laughing at me again.” Patsy suddenly changed the subject.
“Your name again? Why not just call yourself Pat. That’d make everything easier.”
“No. I’ve always been Patsy. I’m staying Patsy, even if they make jokes about it. One of them asked me out on a date. Can you believe it! What jokers!”
“Well, I’ll mention it to them again. Patsy was your mother’s idea. Guess I just sort of went along with it.” the Captain looked at his tea cup, now half empty and cold. He opened the door and tossed the remains alongside the house. “That’ll help the lawn grow next summer!” he laughed.

Ilatsiak - 14

2006-10-12T09:28:00.000-07:00

There had been signs in the air for several days that the ice locking the two ships in their winter quarters behind Beechey Island was about to break up. Already Lancaster Sound was nearly clear of ice right across to the headlands on Somerset island to the south. A lookout had been kept from the plateau on top of the island for two weeks now. Franklin had ordered that the two crews begin sawing passages through the ice leading the ships to open water. On the night of July 6, 1846, the high tides began breaking-up the ice so fast that men on shore duty were barely able to get themselves down to the beach and over the ice and onto the ships. In order to avoid being wrecked on the eastern shore of the bay as they lie, sails were set and together with the ice, the little fleet departed winter quarters. The second season had begun. In a few short months, it was expected by everyone that their health would improve and they would be in the Pacific, sailing in the warm sun for Hong Kong and immortality.
The ships moved out into Barrow Strait and all hands were amazed to see clear sailing in all directions. The last news from the lookout atop Beechey Island showed some smaller amounts of ice streaming in from the west. True there was ice blink far to the south as the stream of polar ice made its way out towards Lancaster Sound, but it was clear to the west and that is where they headed.
Franklin was in a buoyant mood and David was relieved of much of the drudgery he had put up with all winter long. Still, he was beginning to miss the rollicking music and theater pieces which had made up the entertainment during the winter. Oh what he had learned about telling stories and performing that winter! John Asham’s magic tricks had been the best and David now knew how to perform nearly all of them. Helping Mr. Goodsir was also a joy as he was a fellow Scot as well as being the naturalist on board. David had learned much from him, this time about the plants and animals they had seen on their many hikes and especially the odd life forms they had hauled up out of the depths of the anchorage at Beechey Island. Best of all was the chance to again speak in Gaelic again, his mother tongue.
The third day of sailing brought a change in both weather and ice conditions. The sunny days and steady winds gave way to overcast, dull weather with long periods of calm. It became necessary to run the engines for longer periods as the day progressed. This was especially the case when the ice began to thicken. Franklin began inching southward in the realization that if he was to join his present position to the last one he had made at Point Turnagain in 1821, then he must begin heading south into one of the openings which could be seen on the horizon.
In the distance almost directly south of their present position, he could see the headlands of Somerset Island close up for the first time. It’s eastern coastline led into Prince Regent Inlet where his friend Captain Sir John Ross had explored and spent four winters. To the west, curving in exactly the direction he wanted to go lay the west coast where no one had managed to go before. It was beckoning him, the dull blue-grey, ice sprinkled water began pulling him in, promising success and an easy passage westward.

Ilatsiak - 13

2006-10-01T09:53:00.000-07:00

The black hulls and yellow weatherworks were easy to spot. The white masts and canvas winter covers on the other hand blended almost perfectly into the white snowy background. The whole gave the impression that the hulls with their broad beams and bluff bows were somehow floating in the snow covered landscape. David was a little shaken by the sight, even though the whole party had been travelling for several hours now in the overcast conditions which had produced the white-out in the first place. Knowing that the body on the sled he walked beside was dead didn’t help make the scene any more comforting.
Private Braine had been one of David’s better friends among the Marines on board. They had enjoyed their first kayaking adventure together in Greenland when out with Mr Goodsir. He had helped as well when some of the crew took some unwelcome interest in him earlier in the Fall. While Braines had not been that well during the winter, David was shocked when news of his death came from the exploring party which had gone on a mapping trip along the Devon Island shore only a week earlier. David went out with the party of Marines to bring back his body. He was shocked to see how thin he had become. Like the others, he was concerned about why he had died. The members of the party claimed Braines had just suddenly become weak and within a day became delerious and then just as suddenly died.
Once the sled party came down off the island and began making its way across the fairly smooth sea ice towards the Erebus, the ships took on their more normal, and familiar appearance. They passed the flattened area on the ice where the crews had competed in cricket games whenever the weather was decent, passed the fire-hole next to the ship which Franklin has insisted they keep open so that water would be available all winter. As they came around to the starboard side where the access stairs had been built, their presence was acknowledged by those on deck duty. Lt Fairholme came part way down the steps to welcome them back and to instruct them to bring the body to the forward hatch where it would be placed directly in the surgery where Stanley and Goodsir would examine the body and prepare it for burial. David mounted the stairs and opened the door for Fairholme. Then they both entered the winter cover.
“What did you find out?” inquired Fairholme of David.
“He just seemed to go weak suddenly. Then he died within the day... It was so quick. No one had heard him say anything, complain of being ill or anything. He just began to feel numbness and finally was unable to breathe.” David’s voice trailed off. He was still shaken by the quickness of the whole thing.
“How did the others seem?” continued Fairholme.
“All right, I guess, but they are wondering if they’ll get sick too.” said David. “I thought after the two died at the New Year, that we would be safe. I didn’t want anyone else to die.”
“Yes, well, life can be harsh in these regions, we must accept that, boy. Some of these men aren’t very fit. Look at the bunch we shipped home on the Baretto. Odd though how we seem to all be suffering our aches and pains so much. Like all our old ailments have returned to haunt us. At the least, the days are sunnier now, the worst of the winter is over. In a couple of months we’ll be away from here and on our way through the passage and then home via the sunny seas. You’ll be complaining of the heat, next!”
“I’m looking forward to being under sail again, sir.”
“Yes, I am as well. Now...report to Mr. Franklin that the party have returned. He asked to be told immediately. Then go forward and see if you can assist Mr Stanley and Mr Goodsir.”
“Yes, sir!” replied David and turning, headed down the hatchway amidships and then towards the passageway leading to Sir John’s great cabin in the aft part of the Erebus. He didn't have a good feeling about any of this business. Something was wrong, very wrong, but what?

Ilatsiak - 12

2006-09-25T18:36:00.000-07:00

“I was very ill when I was young, and I remember very little of my early days. Maybe I was about your age when I nearly died.” Ilatsiak told Patsy. They were sitting in the sunshine once again looking out over the sea ice. “Several shamen tried to cure me, but everything they tried, failed. My parents were sure that I would die. Everyone was sad because I was always known as the ‘gift child’. My parents had had no children of their own and I had come to them as a special gift. Later they got other gift children, but I was their first one. It was a hard time for everyone because there was little food and the weather was constantly stormy making it hard to hunt. Finally, my parents were told that my sickness would affect everyone, and many would die as others had in the past. They told me to leave the camp one morning and to walk towards the sun. If I was to live, the sun would cure me, otherwise I would die. The sickness I had was came from the east where the sun appeared each day and only there could it be cured.”
Patsy listened to Ilatsiak talk on and on. Some of the words he spoke and the complex way he would construct his sentences made it hard to follow. Patsy wanted to interrupt with questions, but Ilatsiak just ignored him. He was almost talking out of a dream. At first Ilatsiak said he could remember nothing more of his childhood. But as they talked, Ulotsaq was ministering to a sick boy in the camp, and Ilatsiak slowly began to fade this new story into the one from his own childhood. Patsy became confused and later wasn’t sure which story was which. One was here and now and the other seemed to come from a place beyond the old man’s conscious mind. Even his voice seemed to become somewhat hollow sounding and distant. Patsy wondered whether the stories were from this world or Ilatsiak’s spirit world. They seemed to be so mixed in the old man’s head.
Ilatsiak finally seemed to focus on his own story and told of how he had wandered into a sun fog which lay across the flat snow covered beaches south of the family encampment, the sun a blurring disk in his feverish eyes. He stumbled about for what seemed to be days, falling now and then into the snow where he lay asleep for hours, only to begin wandering deleriously once again, here and there, without direction or destination. Finally, even though all ideas of time or place had been erased from his mind, he slowly realised that he was on the ground, on a gravel ridge, high above the surrounding landscape. He was waking up in the moonlit darkness, his fever gone. He felt new and almost refreshed and was aware that he would live! Not certain at all where he was, he simply began walking in a direction chosen only because it seemed to be a good choice at the time and for no other reason. He could recognize nothing in the featureless landscape. Every view seemed identical. He just had the feeling inside that he was headed back to the camp and his people. As the sun’s glow on the horizon began to fade at the end of the third day, Ilatsiak saw snowhouses directly ahead. He began to run towards them and recognizing his father’s dogs, knew he was safe and back home.
Ilatsiak chuckled to himself as he told Patsy how the people, seeing him so well and obviously recovered after being so near death, created considerable talk among everyone in the camp. This was unheard of, they claimed. They were still mourning his death and now here he was among them, alive and well once again! Everyone wondered secretly how was this possible?
As the account of his recovery spread from place to place, more and more people began to refer to Ilatsiak as having special powers and that he might be a shaman in the making. “People are foolish, sometimes.” calimed Ilatsiak. But, too them, it was clear that the spirits favoured him and were beginning to work through him. Within a few years, whether he desired it or not, the story of his miraculous recovery spread slowly, but surely, turning him into a powerful shaman in the eyes of many people. Ilatsia frowned. “ I was always the same person. I never could see myself living apart from the others. “I wasn’t a shaman, I only wanted a family and to live like everyone else.”

Ilatsiak - 11

2006-09-21T13:47:00.000-07:00

Transfering the cargo from the Barretto to the two Naval ships Erebus and Terror seemed to take forever and David was quite aware of the mountaing tension in the officers. When he had a chance he slipped ashore to the Whalefish Island in Disko Bay. Here he could wander around in the native camp and see what was happening. His easygoing and quiet nature appealed to the Inuit and they soon had him in their tents for meals. In no time, David acquired an ablility to converse somewhat in the local language much to their delight. Once a few of the men tried getting him into their kayaks, but even though most of these were too small for him to fit into, they tried nonetheless, even attempting to bend his legs the wrong way to squeeze him in. David was intrigued with their paddling skills and only wished the boats were bigger. He would stand on the shore for hours, watching the Inuit roll their boats over and then magically come up, usually lying back on the rear deck as if they had fallen asleep, only to suddenly sit up and laugh!
Naturally, David was called back to his duties on the Erebus and for him the days in Disko Bay passed much too quickly. The day of departure, July 12, 1845 did arrive and heading northward, the Erebus and Terror began the real purpose of their journey: the discovery of a passage through the icy waters to China and thence home to England. He would circle the globe.
A few days later leaving Disko Bay, some whalers were sighted and again on the 25th of July two more ships were sighted while Erebus and Terror were held up by heavy ice in Baffin Bay. The last ships seen were more whalers on the 29th, but with ice conditions improving rapidly, both the Erebus and Terror headed westward and entered Lancaster Sound.
What followed was a happy time for everyone on board. The weather remained as good as any had seen it in that part of the world. While ice blocked their passage due west, they discovered open water northwards, and managed to circumnavigate Cornwallis Island before the season came to an end. Franklin and his officers were obviously elated with their new discoveries.

With the end of August, Franklin directed the ships to return to the little harbour behind Beechey Island where he had earlier made the decision to winter over if no way to the west was found that year. Accordingly, both ships anchored a mile apart and preparations were made for over-wintering. Top-masts were lowered and canopies raised over the decks to provide some additional room out of the winter storms. On shore, several buildings were erected for various purposes and duties were assigned both for ship and shore. It was a busy time. With the excitment of having already accomplished a great deal of useful exploration, the winter season was looked forward to as being even more rewarding and exciting.

Ilatsiak - 10

2006-09-17T18:11:00.000-07:00

Ulotsaq sat alone on his sled. His three dogs were ragged and worn, his caribou clothing dirty and missing much of its fur where it had been worn away with use. He must be cold, thought Ilatsiaq. Where’s the the boy and the woman who usually travel with him? He watched him swing off the sled as it reached the rough ice shelf in the tide zone. As the dogs moved through the gleaming hummocks of ice, Ulotsaq pushed and pulled, swinging the sled to avoid bumping into ice blocks which would bring the dogs to a halt. Finally through, he sat back on the sled and let the dogs pull him up the slight slope to where Ilatsiaq sat waiting. He looked tired, worn out and old. Ulotsaq got up and walking over, gave Ilatsiaq’s hand a single shake. Neither spoke. Turning, Ulotsaq walked to the closest snowhouse, pushed the skins forming the entrance aside and disappeared inside. Ilatsiaq heard a woman inside offer him some warm seal soup. Then silence. His dogs curled up where they had stopped. They too had come a long way on little food.
Ilatsiaq wondered what was going on. It wasn’t usual to see Ulotsaq so far away from the people he usually wandered about with, but this was far to the west of his usual haunts. And that he was alone was also troubling. Something must have happened. Something that reminded him of a time he didn’t like like to think about. It was too long ago and now lay muddled in his tired brain, images and thoughts and emotions all jumbled and twisted together. How could anyone make any sense of it now. Still there it was, back again to haunt him. Perhaps he should not have come to this place. He began thinking of leaving even though the others would not want to.

* * *
Patsy watched his father moving through the kitchen dawn. He was easy to see. The sun had been up now literally for weeks, and wouldn’t set until sometime in August. He watched his father as he fussed with this and that obviously searching for more tea.
“Looking for the tea, Father?” he finally said, grinning to himself because he knew he would never break down and ask. Sometimes he wondered why the old man had bothered to marry his mother, he was so damned independent. But then, he really did need her. Independence didn’t guarantee his survival completely, especially as he got older, more set in his ways.
“Where has your mother hid it this time?” he wasn’t going to admit he didn’t remember where it was usually kept. “Why can’t things be left out where they can be handy...”
Patsy got up and pretended to search for the ‘missing’ tea, suddenly finding a small metal tin of the stuff hidden behind several boxes of rock hard ship’s biscuits on the wooden shelf to the left of the only window in the building. Passing back in front of the window, his eye caught sight of his father’s boat frozen into the ice out in the bay. He handed the tin to him. “Have you met Ilatsiak? He’s an old shaman. The one who came in with the Bathurst people the other day? He’s quite different. Funny guy... strange almost. I get the feeling there’s something going on between him and that loner who came in yesterday. Have you seen him?”
The Captain shook out a handful of tea from the tin and lifting the lid off the kettle, dumped the whole fistful into the water. Patsy watched his tea brewing technique, again for the umpteenth time. “Typical,” he thought. “Who taught him to make tea? He just adds more and more tea and water until at the end, the kettle becomes filled completely with soggy leaves. Then he finally cleans it out and the process is started over again.”
Patsy’s father added a few scoops of water from the barrel of melting lake ice to the kettle, topped it up and then placed it back on the stove in its usual position. It would slowly simmer away all day, the tea reaching a strength unknown to most tea lovers in the rest of the world.
“Old man? What old man?” Patsy’s father finally joined the conversation. “You mean the old man, the one who sits outside his tent and stares into the bay all day?” he suddenly said, looking up from his chore.
“Yes. He was talking about your boat yesterday. He said it was too small.”
“Too small? It’s the biggest boat he’s ever seen!” The Captain looked up quickly, laughing at the odd remark. “Biggest boat he ever saw, was no bigger than a glorified rowboat!” Klengenberg, shook his head, laughing all the while. “What a strange thing to say!”
“When I asked him what other ships he had seen though, he quickly changed the topic and asked where I had come from, how I could speak Inuktitut and things like that.”
“Now that I think about it, you know, he might have seen other ships, I suppose. Some of the old guys, I quess made it this far, maybe a few whalers and the explorers, you know Collinson was through here, I think. Got to Cambridge Bay, east of here, on Victoria Island. I wonder how old he is?”
“Hard to tell. He could be really old, eighty or more. I suspect he’s older than he looks. Just as I was leaving he said ships used to have two and three masts, not just one! See what I mean about being strange?”
“Yes, that would be odd. Where did he see these ships?” the Captain was intrigued now as well.
“ When he said that, I stopped and looked back at him, but he just waved me away. He didn’t want to tell me more.” Patsy raised his shoulders and eyes as he spoke.
“I think I’ll see the scientists talk to him. Might be an interesting fellow to talk with. There are lots of old stories in this country going back to the old days of the explorers and so on. Must be people still around who remember seeing them.”

Ilatsiak - 9

2006-09-14T17:50:00.000-07:00

The supply ship Barretto Junior which was to carry much of the livestock and additional food supplies for the period to be spent in the ice finally arrived in Stromness. Being somewhat smaller than the ship David was aboard, she had left several days previous to them, but had not been able to make as good time in the foul weather coming up the east coast of England in spite of the Erebus having put in at both Harwick and Aberdeen. But now, once again, after their brief stay, an Orkney crowd was in a jovial mood watching the ships drop their lines from the tugboats. Flags rose lightly to the sunny breeze in the Scapa Flow. The docks and the slate roofs of the dockside warehouses glistened from a sudden brief shower as if washed especially for the departing ships. On board, the men set the main-sails while everyone cheered them on. The ships’ bows fell off the wind which bellied the canvas and then, gaining leeway, their bows turned towards the north Atlantic Ocean and the real voyage began. Two steamers accompanied them out into Hoy Sound and continued as far as Cape Smith. Here they gave the expedition another hearty cheer. The day was clear with a fair wind. The next landfall would be the western coast of Greenland, where the livestock would be transferred, and any men found unfit would also be transhipped over to the Barretto Junior to return to England.
* * *
Crossing the Atlantic the ships experienced every sort of weather one might expect on such a voyage, some days really lovely, clear and sunny with a fair breeze, while others nothing but annoying with stubborn southerly winds or no wind at all, simply a rolling and uncomfortable sea . Finally on the 22nd of June a NE gale struck the ships and continued to blow fiercely for three days. The seas it created were steep and high but did allow the ships to run faster than ever towards the Greenland coast. The whole crew were in a high state of anxiety as much with the winds as with the thick fog and haze which restricted their view ahead into seas known to be ice filled...
* * *
On the 25th, the winds died suddenly to a flat calm. At first David assumed the whiteness off the port bows were clouds on the horizon. The next time he had a chance to slip up on deck, several hours later, the clouds had turned into white, glacial mountains complete with patches of dark rock sticking out here and there. The sea was beginning to be dotted with large pieces of ice, the famous icebergs which sailors with more experience than he were talking about in the forecastle at night. Hitting even a smallish bit of ice could damage even a ship as large as the Erebus, so considerable caution was to be taken. More than once, Mr Reid, who was really the ice-master on board, required David to carry messages between the helmsman and the officers' quarters below where decisions were made on the best route to take. For the first time in his life David heard the growling of the pack-ice which kept them from approaching too close to the Greenland coast.
Later in the day, the Terror was sighted and the two ships sailed to within a half mile of each other on the calm sea. Fairholme and Le Visconte took one of the inflatable boats with which Sir John was experimenting and together with a couple of crew, paddled over to visit her. It seemed to David the paddle took a while and that for all the effort it took, they didn’t stay long. One thing they did was to get a list of all of Terror’s library books so that all aboard would be able to know who had what in their libraries. All together, there were sufficient books that no one should lack for things to read during the year or two of the voyage! Fairholme was very excited about his paddle in the inflatable boat, but again was quite tired from his sudden exercise. He also mentioned to David that they were definitely on the better ship, saying twice that he would not switch ships with anyone!
Twice, during the previous night, the ship had had to change course to a more southernly route because of the movement of the ice. Now, with the sun shining brightly from the south, Erebus was able to pick up speed and David could feel the excitment growing on the ship. In three more days, at the whaling depot in Disko Bay, West Greenland, they would rendezvous with Terror and the transport ship, the final crew would be selected and the voyage into the icy Passage itself would begin. David already knew of several men on board who would probably not continue because of illness or accident. In particular, he had overheard Fitzjames and the Surgeon, Mr. Stanley discussing the fact that several men were thought to have signs of tuberculosis. In fact, the Armourer, Mr Burt, was already confined to his bunk by Mr. Stanley so he would be leaving the ship when they arrived. There was also a rumour in the forecastle that several men were also caughing up blood and should stay behind as well. Things being what they were, with so much riding on the success of the voyage, those who were sick were hiding it as best they could. Afterall, who wanted to miss being on the voyage that finally solved the riddle of the Passage? They would be famous on their return to England, with tales to last a lifetime. There was even talk they might become rich from this trip.

Ilatsiak - 8

2006-09-11T17:12:00.000-07:00

Once in Stromness, orders were given to dine with Sir John at 9.00 in the evening. David and the cook’s steward were busy all day getting ready. At the same time, the wind began rising along with the bread. By 8.00 the action of the ship in the seaway was so violent that extra anchors were set and the formal dinner called off. The next day, as the seas had died down somewhat, Lt. Fairholme and a few others decided to try going ashore and walking across to Kirkwell to see the old Medieval church there, As David was a native, he was invited to come along and show them the way. Fairholme’s father had told him that the visit to the old church would be well worthwhile and so they all set out. Getting ashore was not as hard as they had feared and except for getting a little wet, they soon reached the docks at Logan’s Well where so many ships were outfitted for the Arctic and elsewhere. The three-quarters of a mile to the end of the town was a narrow one of well-worn flag-stones, grey buildings and not much else. Cheerily, they all set out. The land quickly became steep to and before an hour’s walk was up they began joking about hiring the first cart they came across to take them the remaining distance. Several times, the officers commented on how barren and uninteresting the country was, but David could not see the barrenness. Rather, it was home to him and he could see that while it was different from southern England where most of the officers originated, it was also an intriguing place, full of mysterious ruins and ancient tombs and definitely well worth exploring even by a native to the islands like himself.
When nearly within sight of Kirkwell a horse-drawn cart came into view. Fairfolm pounced on it’s owner and promised him all sorts of things if only he would turn about for Kirkwell. Of course as the chance to separate some fancy English gentlemen from their money was always a pleasant duty, he quickly agreed to carry them into the first tavern in Kirkwell and afterwards to return the party the the ship once they had eaten and seen the old church.
There were no end of complaints over the rough fare at the tavern, although all agreed the ale was excellent. The large bulk of red stone which composed the church itself was truely a wonder and David was pleased the officers agreed it was a beauty, especially having been built in such a wild, far-off place. There only sour comment was regarding the head stones, blackened with age to the point of being hardly legible in the graveyard beside the church. Oh, how horrid, to be buried without a decent marker one of them moaned. What a nasty end, indeed. People should be more respectful of the dead.
On the way back to Stromness, it occurred to them that they never did visit the interior of the church, nor the palace of the Bishop, the intended objects of the visit in the first place! Laying on his bunk once aboard the Erebus, David thought about the officers. They seemed to be so out of shape for men he thought of as his superiors. He could easily have made it to Kirkwell and back and run all the way!

Ilatsiak - 7

2006-09-10T07:45:00.000-07:00

Patsy could see a dog team forming in the the dazzling whiteness out on the sea ice. It was merely a speck in his eye, but the fact that it was moving told him it was time to go and warn his father, People were coming, perhaps to trade, perhaps just with stories to tell, in which case the scientists would be wanting to know and he would get some money working as a translater.
“That’s all, old man,” Patsy said as he got to his feet. “You must tell me about the times you had with your new wife. I bet you had many children, yes?”
“No, we had hardly any...” Ilatsiak quietly said. There was something about his eyes that let Patsy know there were stories lying behind them and he smiled back. Then he turned and headed towards his father’s cabin. As he walked along, the old man stayed in his mind. What is it about him, he thought. He is not like the others, yet he is... It’s as if he knows things the rest of us don’t know, yet what he says is perfectly ordinary. He made up his mind to spend more time talking with him. Maybe he would find out about him, who is was and more of his stories. Maybe the scientists would like to meet him. They were always looking for new people and especially shamen with supernatural powers.
At the trader’s combined store and cabin dwelling, several members of Ilatsiak’s band were already milling around talking with Patsy’s father, the Captain. The news in the air was that a dog team was coming up the bay. Everyone had a pretty good idea who it might be. Even at this distance, there was considerable certainty about the driver. The way he moved, the colour of his dogs, the way they moved through the ice ridges all told his name as if he had yelled it out. Ulotsaq was coming.
Ulotsaq was a powerful shaman from Bathurst Inlet and well known to Ilatsiak’s people. He had bought his powers from another shaman. Or, to be more truthful, he had bought the goodwill and knowledge of how to summon certain spirits to him. Some spirits were willing to come of their own accord, but others had to be summoned through special knowledge and it was this knowledge that Ulotsaq had acquired. At first, none came to him and he thought he had been tricked by the old shaman who had sold him the knowledge. However, one day while hunting, as he usually did, he arrived at a small island. Several spirits appeared to him one after another. They forbade him to eat any part of the stomach of the caribou, but to eat plenty of brains. If he did as he was asked, the spirits promised him they would stay with him and give him magical powers. He readily accepted. However, for his troubles, he was roughed up and beaten about and began dreaming that he had become a white man - a type of person he had only heard stories about, but had never actually seen alive.
Ilatsiak met him soon after this strange transformation and convinced him that he was really an Inuk and not possessed of any shaman abilities. It was only that bad spirits were at work within him. Several shaman then worked together to rid Ulotsaq of his white man images, but the end result was finally to make Ulotsaq into one of the more powerful shamen in the area. He became both loved and feared at the same time by many people. Everyone agreed he was nearly as powerful a man as Ilatsiak, the greatest shaman known to the Bathurst people.
Patsy felt a rush of blood through his body! So, the old man was a shaman, and a powerful one at that! He knew why he had felt Ilatsiak was special and now it was clear why. A shaman, and not just an ordinary one, but someone with immense powers!

Ilatsiak - 6

2006-09-07T08:17:00.000-07:00

Those new to sailing found the trip up the coast a difficult ride. The weather was squally and nasty for the most part and the two ships were forced to beat into the wind much of the way. Franklin finally gave orders to stand in towards Aberdeen, Scotland and here they anchored off shore to wait for the weather to change.
David took the opportunity to fix up his tiny cabin by doing a little of his own carpentry. He had discovered that a nasty, cold draft came down the companionway from the open hatch above and that by hanging a heavy blanket across the entrance he was able to stop the worst of it. His main duty of the day was to be on hand to assist Sir John and also Lt. James Fairholme. Sir John was most anxious that David see to it that his meals were served promptly and on time. Sir John dined with a rotation of three of his officers every day and then on Sunday, all the officers would dine together with him aft in the main cabin. These dinners were semi-formal affairs where Sir John got to know his officers and they him in turn. It was obvious to David as he moved among them serving drinks and then dinner itself, that the voyage was to bode well. The officers were quickly developing a certain cameradery and he several times heard them mention how they appreciated Sir John’s ability to quickly and efficiently make decisions and how he fully took into account their comfort and the well-being of all aboard. Only on one occasion did he overhear a comment about Capt Crozier of the Terror being upset with Sir John’s ability to command the expedition. It seemed that Cozier was of the opinion that Sir John was too old and had been too long out of the “new Arctic” as he put it where things were done much differently than had been done in the 1820’s when Franklin had last made a voyage into these regions.
However when David looked over at Sir John and watched his animated talk he seemed even younger now that he had been just a few days previously. When he mentioned this to Lt. Fairholme he commented back that Sir John was indeed a new man and that no one need be concerned with his being nearly 60 years of age!
After remaining off Aberdeen for a few days, the ships weighed anchored and under steam motored along towards the Orkneys in conditions of dead calm. Several people had been put ashore in Aberdeen as they had taken advantage of the trip up the coast and David had been able to assist in getting them ashore. He had sailed here several years ago with Fergus and was hoping to get a look around again, but orders to sail had been given and he was obliged to return to the Erebus immediately upon seeing his charges ashore.
This was the first real chance most of the officers and men aboard had to see what the newly installed engines were capable off doing. It was definitely impressive to see the bows cut through the calm water so cleanly. Just sitting in the bows looking at the cut-water, David could see the arctic ice being cast aside as they sliced their way quickly through the Northwest Passage. It was a dream that more and more of the men on board could clearly see happening.

Ilatsiak - 5

2006-09-05T09:55:00.000-07:00

All that happened in March, just about the time of his birthday, and now it was May 19, 1845, the day of departure. Much had taken placed during those months. David now knew the ships, their officers and in the last few days was getting to know all the other men who were to sail with them. The two ships had been recently towed to the small port village of Greenhithe for final fitting out, which included fitting the new steam engines, something David was very proud to have aboard. His ship was to be fitted with all the latest technology and modern scientific gadgets.
The Commander, Sir John Franklin had come aboard the night before, but immediately retired below. He seemed to be moody and Mr Reid, who David had liked immediately, told him that the Commander had the flu. David had never met Sir John, but had seen him engaged in meetings with the officers and Captain Crozier of the HMS Terror, their sistership for the voyage and was sure he was a kind and gentle man.
“Be attentive, in case you’re needed, boy, but otherwise be silent.” were Mr. Reid’s words of instructions.
However, early on the nineteeth, all seemed gay again and full of exciting things to do and see. The docks were lined with people waving and cheering. Hankies seemed to wave in the breeze like wild flowers in a meadow, hundreds of colours and a sea of shapes. David could see Lady Franklin. Wouldn’t she be proud to see her husband home for good once this voyage was done and he a national hero having finally found the Northhwest Passage’s secrets for England. David’s thoughts again went back to the night a few days previous when Lady Franklin had presented the crew with various gifts including their mascot, Jacko, the monkey! He was such a little devil, he was glad he wasn’t put in charge of him. That job had fallen to George Chambers, the other cabin boy on the Erebus.
The two ships leaving that bright and sunny English day, The command ship HMS Erebus and the almost identical HMS Terror, both stubby Hecla class bomb vessels with fresh coats of black paint with yellow trim, three tall masts and, of course, the newly installed 20 hp auxiliary steam engines borrowed from the railways and driving screw propellers, the very latest technology. These would enable these large ships to plow through ice and push their over 300 tons through the Passage unlike any other ship so far had been able to do. It was the single great advantage which would make navigating the Passage a possibility. All too often in the past ships driven only by sail would sit facing a wide open sea to the west, the way through clear and free, yet not a drop of wind to sail in. With the engines, this would not happen to Erebus and Terror.
As the ships were turned by the tugs and given their final signals, Fitzjames turned to his mate and casually said, “Shall we be underway, Mr. Des Voeux?” Immediately he turned and the orders rang into the rigging, “Away aloft! Trice up and lay out!” David took his position along the rail out of the way, but ready if called. The topmen scrambled upward and then edged out along the yards. “Let fall and sheet ‘em home, sheet ‘em home. Man your halliards: haul tight and belay, ‘em!” The sails billowed out as the sheets were trimmed to take advantage of the favouring winds and tide. Men began springing into action, preparing the ship for sea, running the remaining fathoms of cable in as briskly as the capstan could handle it. “Lay me a course north by north-east as you clear the last river buoy, Mr. Des Voeux.” Fitzjames then headed below. Unlike the more casual action of Fergus’s crew, the naval sailors made setting sail a spectacle for all who watched. After all, these men were the pride of England, the men who ruled the seas.
David loved the feeling of a ship as it began to feel the long set of the waves at sea. The heel of the ship to the wind as it settled into the groove it carves in the ocean’s watery field delights every sailor and no less so David. He was on deck every chance he could find from his duties. As the Erebus left the land she turned further northward and laid a course for the Orkneys at the northern end of Britain. First however, there would be a mail drop at Harwich just up the coast.

Ilatsiak - 4

2006-08-31T20:02:00.000-07:00

A three masted ship, freshly painted in horizontal bands of black and yellow, slowly edged away from the dock and into the Thames river current as the steam powered tug took up the slack on the cable attached to the ships stern. The docklines fell away with a splash, then trailed through the water towards the bow. Like two water snakes, releasing their grip on the land and now headed out to sea, they made their way to the sides of the glistening hull and as if attacking the ship itself they climbed up its sides and disppeared into twin holes in the ship’s rails as the sailors handed them into the forepeak. Caps slammed down on the houser holes with a heavy boot stomp for good measure. British Navy style.
David Young stood in place beside the ship’s Captain, James Fitzjames and watched the steam tug work. This was not a new scene for him. He had practically been raised on docks like the very ones they were departing. He had more than once been caught aboard ships at this very point and been tossed into the harbour to find his own way back to shore. The first time it happened he couldn’t really swim and floundered around splashing and yelling until someone on shore pushed a heavy piece of squared timber out to him. He made up his mind to learn to swim after that incident!

* * *
Ships heading off to sea were his whole life and from the time he was ten years old he began trying to stow on board ships coming into his home port of Stromness. Finally, having been discovered aboard once too often, a kindly merchant ship’s Captain named Fergus Anderson, seeing more of the boys good points than his bad, adopted David as his cabin boy. Together, they plied the trading routes between London and various parts of Ireland and occasionally the west coast of France and Spain. David soon became well known about the docks for his easy sea-faring ways, his ability to work hard and his particular flair at learning languages. In fact by this time David had a fair ability at Gaelic, Irish, French, some Spanish as well as passable Dutch besides his second language, English. He was even beginning to learn to read in English, thanks to Fergus, when he had the time. Fergus knew well that a boy like David would never amount to anything however. He lacked wealth and position in the highly structured society of England in the 1840’s. His low birth in the far off wilds of the Orkney Islands would make that a near certainty. It would keep him from raising much beyond an ordinary seaman, a rough and tumble life at best, and a short-lived and dangerous one at worst.
Fergus grew fond of David and the first chance he had, he passed David’s name along to some friends who worked now and then supplying various items, including men, to the Royal Navy. It was well known to those along the Thames wharves that the navy often were on the lookout for promising young lads to serve of cabin boys and midshipmen on naval ships, especially in these times when exploring more than fighting seemed to be the role of many naval ships. This had often been a backdoor into the officer’s world of the Navy and many a boy was able to rise to officer status via this route, many who would have never stood a chance otherwise. With the French wars over, there was not a lot of need for men, but still the occasional boy was sought for some of the special cruises the Navy was asked to send out.
“David!” Fergus could be heard clumping about on the upper deck as he called David’s name. “Where ya ‘bout, lad? I’ve some news fer ya. Where...? Oh! David, come here, quick, now. Listen, ‘ere, will ya!”
David bounded out of the aft cabin hatchway and faced the fatherly Captain Fergus. “Sir?”
“I’ve found you a navy ship, lad. A good ship, with good people. It’s your chance, me boy, your big chance!”
“Sir...I’d prefer to stay here, if I could...”
“Nonsense, lad. With me, there’s no future. With this berth, you be acting as a Midshipman. Think of it! It’s your chance to become something, lad. You being so young, you could learn much on a Navy ship, especially this one. Fitzjames, James Fitzjames is the Captain. He’s a good man, lad and runs a good ship. Made a real name for his’self in China last year or so. They’ll be sailing with Sir John Franklin to make the Northwest Passage. If they make it, and everyone says they will, you’ll be famous, me boy! Imagine that, if you can.”
“Really, sir? They’re going to try the Northwest Passage to China, sir?”
“That’s what I ‘ear, boy, that’s what I ‘ear. Now get along down to the Gravesend docks, quick as you can and ask there for directions to HMS Erebus and see what they thinks a ya. And ‘ere, take this letter introducing yourself. Ask for Mr. Reid. He’s acting as the Master and will let you aboard. Give him the letter. Now get along wi’ ya!”

Ilatsiak - 3

2006-08-29T16:28:00.001-07:00

“Ah, old man! Another nice day to sit in the sun and be lazy...”
“I’m too old to hunt... I was never any good at it anyway. I should have starved to death long ago!”
“Yes maybe that’s true...”
“It couldn’t be helped! People kept passing me food whenever I got thin. To be polite, I had to eat it.”
The conversation began in the customary way. Each one teasing the other. Patsy, telling the old man he was far too old to be around. Ilatsiak pleading that it wasn’t his fault. He had tried to die many times, but people always got in the way and saved him.
“So, old man,” began Patsy again. This time he had a more serious tone to his voice. The long Spring days were beginning to get boring even with the new arrivals here at the trading post. “Where have you lived all your life? Did you always starve in the eastern lands?”
“Yes, always in the east, towards the sun.” Ilatsiak paused, deep in thought. He too was feeling the hot sun, the long days and his many years, now well over ninety of them, kept him glued to the ground, no longer able to move around like the younger men. Another lazy mouth to feed. “I have always lived in the east, farther than I do now, many days of travelling.”
“Tell me a story about that land, old man. What is it like?” Patsy too had time to spend. There was little to do and being sixteen years old and at an age when he was anxious to begin having adventures of his own, he loved to hear the stories of the old ones.
“I will tell you about meeting my wife. She is gone now, but she lived in a place with a high water falls which never freezes in the winter. It is a big river which comes from the south. Where it comes from no ones knows. It’s from the land of many lakes where it is easy to kayak for a lifetime and never paddle the same lake twice. Her people lived by those falls and my people used to visit them each fall when it was time to fish and hunt caribou for skins.”
And this began a time of stories for Patsy and Ilatsiak. Slowly, Patsy learned the story of the old man’s life, and what he had seen and done. He had been a remarkable man, of that there was little doubt.

Ilatsiak - 2

2006-08-28T11:29:00.000-07:00

Ilatsiak did nothing. In fact, things returned to the way they had been before the visitors, before Aupaluk and his family had departed. Just as people began to think about not going at all, old Ilatsiak announced he would call up his favourite spirit. He needed to talk with him. Several of the younger men prepared a special snowhouse out farther on the ice and sealed the old man inside. He sat there on his flooring of caribou skins and waited for his spirit to come to him.
The arctic sun had been down several hours when suddenly, as if transformed into a younger more vigerous man, Ilatsiak burst through the snowhouse walls and ran screaming towards the village. “We leave, we leave, quickly, we must leave at once! Aupaluk needs us, he is in trouble!”
The camp was suddenly transformed. Everyone hurriedly loaded the sleds. People laughed and joked and bumped into each other in their haste to depart. As the loads were tightened on the sleds, lashing made firm, children sought likely spots to ride only to be brushed off by their parents who along with the dogs would have to pull the burdens through the softening snow. It was a joke everyone played each time they travelled, but they never tired of playing it.
After only an hour on the trail down the bay and northward up the west side of Bathurst Inlet, they stopped. It was time to eat and drink and sleep. The rush was over. Everyone knew where they were going and it was exciting again.
It was over two weeks before they received news of Aupaluk. Coming upon fresh sled tracks, the band of Inuit followed them westward until they came upon a small village of perhaps a dozen snow houses. Aupaluk and his family were among them. They had been here a week. Yes they had had some bad luck hunting, but the people of the makeshift village, some of whom were related to his wife had managed to help them. Now many of them were planning to go to see the white trader as well.
As the conditions were now ideal for hunting seals on the ice, the young men of Ilatsiak’s camp decided to hunt rather than travel. This they did with success for several days, but finally, well supplied with meat, a large group began gathering their things once again and moving west.
It would take the rest of the month to reach Bernard Harbour and the white trader’s small house. The pattern of moving, stopping a new snow-house village and hunting for seals on the ice repeated itself along the way. Two small ships lay frozen in the bay. One belonged to Captain Klengenberg, the other to some scientists spending the winter in the area. Ilatsiak saw the ships and small as they were, he immediately recognized them. He knew ships, his ancient memory told him. He knew ships, bigger ships than these ones. As the days passed and he looked at the two ships frozen in the ice, he knew that he had seen ships like these before. Memories began to come to him in his sleep and when he would drift off during the day sitting, daydreaming outside the newly made snowhouse, basking in the Spring sunshine looking out over the Harbour. Yes, images were coming back to him at last in bigger and bigger bits and pieces. He knew ships, big ships and white people... He was a boy in those days, a boy like his own sons had been. Young and adventurous. But then, how could that be. Perhaps the images were coming from his connections with the spirit world he had so often conjoured up over the years to help his people.
On occasion, the trader would come and visit him. He could speak a different dialect of Inuktitut, but it was possible to catch enough common words to understand each other. The scientist could hardly speak at all, but at least the words he knew were pronounced the same. The trader’s son Patsy was the best. He was the easiest to understand and so it was to him than Ilatsiak talked the most. Ilatsiak used to listen to his father, the old trader and Captain and the scientists talking together in English and that too caused fleeting moments of something which would tingle faint emories in his head. It was as if he could understand. It was like the memory of the ships which he could almost see in the ice and yet not see. How could he see? What ships could he have seen? He was just an old man whose time was nearly done.
There were many thing to be sampled at the traders. There was tea and most amazing of all, there was sugar which tasted of magic it so delighted the tongue. The Inuit visitors, could not believe something could taste so good, but the trader was willing to give out only so much. They had not come prepared to trade. Many people gave away in trade things which they would soon need. Well, they would just make new, as best they could.
The scientists became very interested in Ilatsiak. He thought at first it was because of his age, he being quite a bit older than the others visiting at that time. In fact, it was well known that no one was older than Ilatsiak was. He also was remarkable because of his blading head and white beard, something most of his companions did not have. Their were those who called him Omingmuk because of this beard, but this was seldom done to his face. He was too much respected as an shaman to make an object of familiar talk. The scientists were curious about his shaman role and pleaded with him on several occasions to talk about this role. They seemed hungry to learn from him.
For his part, Ilatsiak preferred to sit and talk with Patsy, the trader’s son. He was full of information. Patsy was also a good listener and slowly over the weeks spent in Bernard Harbour, he began to learn the secret of who Ilatsiak was. It was an amazing tale. So incredible in fact, that he never told anyone until as an old man living far to the east, he was able to make enough connections between Ilatsiak’s story and other stories now almost lost with the elders, that what he had told here in Bernard’s Harbour slowly emerged into the picture of a man who held many secrets and had survived where many had not.

Ilatsiak - 1

2006-08-26T08:46:00.000-07:00

The day was suddenly alive. Millions of tiny air-borne sparkles flashed as each flake of wind-swept snow caught its moment in the sun before drifting out on the sea ice before the camp. Ilatsiak turned and entered the snow-house’s tunnelled entrance. The brightness hurt his eyes. He could no longer look at the glare off the snow and ice of the bay. He was an old, old man, far older than anyone he knew. Each of his wives was gone long ago. His shoulders felt sore as he rolled onto the furs at the back of the snow-house. He shut his eyes. Everything about him needed to rest.
“Kimupsiq!”
Yes, a dog sled was coming!
Way out in the bay, anyone with eyes to see could make out a tiny speck slowly making its way through the ice fields. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. Soon it would be possible to tell who was coming. Even at this distance, a person’s stance on the sled was recognizable to the small group assembled at the semi-circular array of snow houses along the bay.
Today, however, no one was able to guess who drove the sled, for strangers were coming to the camp. Strangers from the west. As they drove up to within hailing distance, they stopped their dogs and stood up facing the assembled group in front of the houses. For a few moments they both stared at each other, no one anxious to make the first move.
“We are poor hunters, but we will share what we have...” one of the camp men suddenly announced. It was an ice breaker. The two groups, as if suddenly released from some frozen state of mind began to recognize the Inuit-ness of each other as they moved together, shoke hands and began talking freely. Most of the talk revolved around possible mutual family members they might possess or failing that, friends of friends or acquaintences. These ties would establish some social ties along which traditional hospitality could progress smoothly. But, there was other news too, it seemed.
A ship was frozen into the ice to the west. A white man, his Alaskan wife and their family had many interesting and useful things to trade... They wanted fox furs. Why not go and see them? They were in Bernard Harbour to the west, many days of travelling from the small bay in Bathurst Inlet where this camp lay.
Ilatsiak listened quietly, as always from the back of the sleeping platform in the snow house. White men. Ships frozen into the ice. Why did that news trouble him? What was it in his past that always gave him this strange tightness in his chest whenever news of white people and frozen ships came to his people? He was old now, who knows how old, maybe over 90 years old. Certainly too old to worry about white people coming to his country, yet, there was that tightness in him again. Why?. He knew many things, people sought his help and advice, yet to this he could never seem to find an answer even though he had searched his memory many times.
Several days of feasting passed between the two peoples. The visitors had been good hunters indeed. They had much to share, but in typical fashion they had described themselves as the worst hunters in the arctic. It was assumed by everyone that the white trader would be visited, perhaps in a few weeks when the coming Spring would allow for fast sledding. Excitment was building in the camp. When the visitors packed their sleds and left, the emptiness in the camp soon turned into a tense anticipation. Everyone waited for their leader Ilatsiak to give the word that he was leaving. Yet, he delayed and the days passed. Was he too old to travel? What was holding him back? Now that his wife Qajaq had died, he was not the man of action and decisiveness that he had been in the past. The people waited.
About three weeks after the departure of the visitors, Aupaluk, a younger man, his wife and their two young child began getting ready to leave the camp. They slowly loaded their sled, removing everything from their winter dwelling. People watched them and without asking directly what was happening, chatted about this and that. It was clear however, they were leaving to visit the trader. It was March and sledding would not get better than this. As well, the many storms experienced during the past winter, seemed to have abated. Now was the time to go. Once all was loaded, the dogs harnassed, they were off. For the next hour, they could be seen from the camp, but people pretended not to look out to sea in their direction. They had gone that’s all, yet everyone wondered what Ilatsiak would do. Was he going to go or not? Time would tell. People returned to their chores.
Several men took their dogs and walked out on the ice to hunt. They would talk about what to do while they walked. It was time to go. Everyone knew that. Maybe it was time to leave Ilatsiak behind. Yes, that’s what they must do. Still, he was a powerful man with many magic powers, maybe they should wait a few more days and see what he did about Aupaluk and hs family. Will he call them back, or let them go...?

So what is this?

2006-08-22T06:23:00.000-07:00

I plan to begin posting stories I've written about Canadian sea adventures on this site. They will be posted in serial fashion which means to follow the tale you'll have to re-visit the site several times.

The blog will begin with the story of one of Sir John Franklin's cabin boys, who became the sole survivor of the ill-fated expedition through the Northwest Passage. The title of the story is Ilatsiak.