fear, but my arms were also heavy. Along with the fear, I carried hope, in the form of stones to mark our passage. Now that I have seen the
atik
, it is important we remember
all
of the people. We must use the rest of the stones we carry, together with those we find on our path, to mark theway so that the other families will find their way to the
atikuat
as we have done.”
There was a general rumble of agreement to this, over which Mushum’s voice could be heard.
“Before we begin this last journey to our spring hunt, we must celebrate the visit of Nanuq. Let us feast!”
With his words, Darby could see the dull flash of metal above his head. He plunged a knife down into the carcass of a seal that was lying on some kind of sheet of tanned leather in front of him. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed the seal before this moment and she tried to quell the surge in her stomach as he cut up and distributed the meat. The blood of the animal was carefully drained and most of it set aside in bags made of skin, but some of it was joyously shared as well. It was obvious how important this feast was, and Darby suspected the people in the snow house hadn’t eaten very well lately from the enthusiasm with which they enjoyed their meal.
Conversation carried on long after the food was gone, and Darby’s head nodded. Voices travelled through the air and it was hard to follow exactly who was speaking.
“This hunger has chased us far too long. We must make changes.”
“We have always followed the herds. It is the spirit of the caribou that has changed. The spirit wanders far. We must follow.”
Darby was still cold. She listened to talk of where the journey would take the people, of new landforms not seen before and perhaps even different animals to add to the hunt.
“We must mark the way,” one voice said.
Darby thought about the distance the people would have to travel to find the caribou. She thought some more about the bear and whether it was just waiting outside to gobble her up. And finally, she thought of nothing, because leaning against the ice wall of the cave, sleep came and stole her away before she even knew she was gone.
Darby didn’t know what awoke her. Can the sound of quiet act like an alarm clock? Whatever it was, she suddenly sat up with a start, having keeled over onto the icy floor sometime in the night. It was not quite pitch dark, as a little grey daylight crept through the passageway. There was enough light for her to see that everything filling the place last night was gone—the fur rugs, the flickering lamps and what scared her the most: the people. Including Gabe.
How could she have slept through everyone leaving? How could she have slept at all? Darby racked her brains frantically. In a best-case situation, this was a dream, and she couldn’t recall ever sleeping
inside
a dream before.
Her heart started to pound, but then she realizedshe’d never heard of anyone sleeping and then waking up again through their own death, either. Anyway, she didn’t have time to freak out. She had to put her dark side on hold, stifle her fears and go find Gabe. He was her only link to normal, and Darby was determined not to lose him again.
The next step was to get up the courage to once again climb out through the tunnel. Though she no longer feared the white light at the end, the polar bear was something else. It was only the thought of how much her delay was costing in terms of finding Gabe that finally pushed Darby through the doorway.
To her vast relief, there was no sign of the bear when she climbed cautiously out through the passageway. But there was no sign of Gabe or the people, either. And how would she ever find them, especially wearing flip-flops?
In the end, Darby used the tried and true method of walking in their footsteps. There was no other choice, really, and luckily it hadn’t snowed since they had left. The small amount of daylight was already fading and she hurried on, head down except
atik
, it is important we remember
all
of the people. We must use the rest of the stones we carry, together with those we find on our path, to mark theway so that the other families will find their way to the
atikuat
as we have done.”
There was a general rumble of agreement to this, over which Mushum’s voice could be heard.
“Before we begin this last journey to our spring hunt, we must celebrate the visit of Nanuq. Let us feast!”
With his words, Darby could see the dull flash of metal above his head. He plunged a knife down into the carcass of a seal that was lying on some kind of sheet of tanned leather in front of him. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed the seal before this moment and she tried to quell the surge in her stomach as he cut up and distributed the meat. The blood of the animal was carefully drained and most of it set aside in bags made of skin, but some of it was joyously shared as well. It was obvious how important this feast was, and Darby suspected the people in the snow house hadn’t eaten very well lately from the enthusiasm with which they enjoyed their meal.
Conversation carried on long after the food was gone, and Darby’s head nodded. Voices travelled through the air and it was hard to follow exactly who was speaking.
“This hunger has chased us far too long. We must make changes.”
“We have always followed the herds. It is the spirit of the caribou that has changed. The spirit wanders far. We must follow.”
Darby was still cold. She listened to talk of where the journey would take the people, of new landforms not seen before and perhaps even different animals to add to the hunt.
“We must mark the way,” one voice said.
Darby thought about the distance the people would have to travel to find the caribou. She thought some more about the bear and whether it was just waiting outside to gobble her up. And finally, she thought of nothing, because leaning against the ice wall of the cave, sleep came and stole her away before she even knew she was gone.
Darby didn’t know what awoke her. Can the sound of quiet act like an alarm clock? Whatever it was, she suddenly sat up with a start, having keeled over onto the icy floor sometime in the night. It was not quite pitch dark, as a little grey daylight crept through the passageway. There was enough light for her to see that everything filling the place last night was gone—the fur rugs, the flickering lamps and what scared her the most: the people. Including Gabe.
How could she have slept through everyone leaving? How could she have slept at all? Darby racked her brains frantically. In a best-case situation, this was a dream, and she couldn’t recall ever sleeping
inside
a dream before.
Her heart started to pound, but then she realizedshe’d never heard of anyone sleeping and then waking up again through their own death, either. Anyway, she didn’t have time to freak out. She had to put her dark side on hold, stifle her fears and go find Gabe. He was her only link to normal, and Darby was determined not to lose him again.
The next step was to get up the courage to once again climb out through the tunnel. Though she no longer feared the white light at the end, the polar bear was something else. It was only the thought of how much her delay was costing in terms of finding Gabe that finally pushed Darby through the doorway.
To her vast relief, there was no sign of the bear when she climbed cautiously out through the passageway. But there was no sign of Gabe or the people, either. And how would she ever find them, especially wearing flip-flops?
In the end, Darby used the tried and true method of walking in their footsteps. There was no other choice, really, and luckily it hadn’t snowed since they had left. The small amount of daylight was already fading and she hurried on, head down except
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