When they kneeled this time they heard the most curious muffled grunts
and knockings, apparently under their feet. Sometimes it sounded as
though a blind puppy were squeaking above the lamp; then as if a stone
were being ground on hard ice; and again, like muffled blows on a
drum: but all dragged out and made small, as though they traveled
through a little horn a weary distance away.
"We shall not go to Sedna lying down," said Kotuko. "It is the
breaking. The _tornaq_ has cheated us. We shall die."
All this may sound absurd enough, but the two were face to face with a
very real danger. The three days' gale had driven the deep water of
Baffin's Bay southerly, and piled it on to the edge of the
far-reaching land-ice that stretches from Bylot's Island to the west.
Also, the strong current which sets east out of Lancaster Sound
carried with it mile upon mile of what they call pack-ice--rough ice
that has not frozen into fields; and this pack was bombarding the floe
at the same time that the swell and heave of the storm-worked sea was
weakening and undermining it. What Kotuko and the girl had been
listening to were the faint echoes of that fight thirty or forty miles
away, and the little telltale rod quivered to the shock of it.
Now, as the Inuit say, when the ice once wakes after its long winter
sleep, there is no knowing what may happen, for solid floe-ice changes
shape almost as quickly as a cloud. The gale was evidently a spring
gale sent out of time, and anything was possible.
Yet the two were happier in their minds than before. If the floe broke
up there would be no more waiting and suffering. Spirits, goblins, and
witch-people were moving about on the racking ice, and they might find
themselves stepping into Sedna's country side by side with all sorts
of wild Things, the flush of excitement still on them. When they left
the hut after the gale, the noise on the horizon was steadily growing,
and the tough ice moaned and buzzed all round them.
"It is still waiting," said Kotuko.
On the top of a hummock sat or crouched the eight-legged Thing that
they had seen three days before--and it howled horribly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account