The Legend of Ataneq Nanuq Read online

  Katu’s eyes fell upon Bjarni, curled up on his mattress and gasping for air. “Bjarni...! What is it, old friend?” Katu stooped to comfort the old man, his face reflecting the concern he felt within.

  Bjarni’s breaths were sharp and shallow and he tried to speak, holding his hands across his chest. Recognising the symptoms of a heart attack, Katu raced for the emergency kit and grabbed for a packet of aspirin. Taking one tablet, he ran back to Bjarni and placed the tablet under his tongue. Within moments, the trial began to subside and Bjarni settled, exhausted and relieved, back onto the mattress.

  *~*~*~*

  Katu stood silently, watching Bjarni from the outpost steps, his eyes speaking volumes but he didn’t dare betray his thoughts with words. Bjarni’s slow but determined amble was pitiful to watch, almost dragging his tired frame to release the dogs from their kennels and hitch them to the sled. This was the action of a desperate man, trapped momentarily between two worlds and pining to be free: the world of the wilderness, lonely, empty, treacherous and vast; and then the world of civilisation, equally as lonely but desperately confining and every bit as treacherous. Bjarni belonged to neither world, walking a narrow line between both and always looking over his shoulder, watching for the fateful collision that maybe some day would come.

  Katu’s concern for his friend was overwhelming, but any attempt at stopping Bjarni from leaving would only complicate the situation and bring more stress to the old man. He was a loner and being alone was the lesser of the two evils. The demons in his past kept chasing Bjarni, never allowing him to rest, but people with good intentions just made it worse. Katu struggled not to show his concern; he figured silence was the best weapon and if Bjarni was to change his mind and stay, it would have to be his decision alone, but Katu knew it would never be.

  The wooden steps, leading to where Katu stood, thudded under Bjarni’s boots. He took Katu in a hug, knowing full well this may be the last time he ever saw him. Katu returned the hug and peered into the hunted, hollow eyes of his friend but there were no words exchanged. They both knew this was a crossroad and Bjarni had made his choice.

  As Bjarni turned away and climbed aboard his sled, he bellowed a crisp command and the dogs pulled hard on the straps, struggling to get the heavy load moving. Soon the team had overcome the struggle, the skids cutting wide trenches in the tundra soil and making scraping noises as it gained speed. The dogs barked encouragement to one another and opened the distance between Katu and Bjarni.

  Bjarni glanced behind at the lone figure growing smaller as the distance increased. A feeling of regret and relief battled for prominence in Bjarni’s emotions as he watched Katu disappear from sight. The journey home would be long and tiring and after the frightening episode this morning, he would have to rely heavily on Akiak to get him there. He settled uncomfortably on top of the load and pulled the muskox pelt over as much of his body as possible, wondering how long his heart would last and what his future held. The jarring of the sled only added to his discomfort but the wilderness was beckoning and he had to answer the call. Dan Gurst was one of his demons and too much of a threat to remain close to civilisation. The depths of the Scoresby Land wilderness was big enough to lose any nightmares and out there, Dan Gurst was just another name.

  *~*~*~*

  Bjarni’s face was covered in sweat, even though the outside temperature had fallen considerably in the last hour. The constant jarring of the wooden sled was causing great pain and tears of frustration were forming in the corners of his eyes. Bjarni recognised, with relief, the curve in the shoreline of Scoresby Sund in the distance. It did a sudden and sharp turn heading almost due east, identifying the border between Scoresby Land and Jameson Land. Sydkap, his home, was now only a matter of thirty minutes away after eight hours of hanging onto the sled.

  Akiak had been true to her royal breeding, shouldering the responsibility for getting them home and encouraging the other dogs to pull with her and follow her lead, even though she was exhausted.

  A sudden, worrying development to the northwest caused Bjarni to stare at the horizon. Thick storm clouds hung like a sentinel, low over the mountains, blocking the path to their final destination and moving at great speed over the landscape. Late summer whiteouts weren’t uncommon in the Arctic, completely burying the landscape in metres of fresh snow and turning the familiar into the unfamiliar. People have been known to get lost, confused in the absence of landmarks and perish, frozen to death in the adverse conditions, only hundreds of metres from safety.

  Akiak had seen the trouble too. The storm was moving fast and the mountains were becoming unrecognisable under the heavy mantle of cloud descending precariously onto them. She led the sled on a sharp right hand turn, barking furiously as she beckoned the team to follow.

  The wooden skids groaned at the sudden change in direction, throwing Bjarni perilously to one side. He hung on tightly, wondering what on earth she was doing and was just about to pull her up when he saw a rock outcrop, standing like a protective hand against the approaching storm. The sled came to a stop in the lee of the rocky outcrop just as the temperature plummeted dramatically and the fury of the storm hit, completely engulfing the surrounds in an unrecognisable white maelstrom.

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 10

  Bjarni’s teeth chattered, even under the warmth of the thick muskox pelt that covered him. He lay motionless atop the sled while his supplies dug uncomfortably into his back and his breathing was laboured and deliberate.

  After many uncomfortable hours sheltered under the fur covering and listening to the intense screaming of the wind, a sense of relief flooded his stiff and cold frame as the wind finally subsided and died away, leaving his ears straining at the deathly silence of the open tundra. He slowly lifted the covering from his face and could see a thin, fresh blanket of snow lying across the barren landscape in all directions. In places, where isolated rocky monoliths had broken the wind, the barren tundra soil remained unaffected by the snowy blanket and the Salix glauca defiantly displayed its red colour, still loudly proclaiming summer’s rightful presence.

  In the shelter of the crag that Akiak had found just before the storm hit, the ground was a mixture of Salix glauca and interspersed with long streaks of wind-driven snow, indicating the ferocity of the storm and the protection that the crag had offered. Bjarni called Akiak from her position curled up on the ground. She, along with the other dogs, had positioned the thick fur coat covering their backs against the wind, protecting them from losing precious body heat. She jumped at his command and stretched her harness against the restraint of the other dogs, eager to draw alongside the old man. The other dogs were forced to leave their sheltered positions curled on the ground when Akiak, desperate to reach Bjarni, pulled mercilessly against their tangled tethers.

  Bjarni reached over the sled and rubbed her muzzle. “Thank you again, my wise and faithful little friend.”

  The final thirty minutes of the journey back to the hut appeared to be easier. The sky was harrowing and lonely; high wispy clouds hung in the disturbed blue grey, giving the impression it was cowering after witnessing some catastrophic and horrifying event. The fresh snow seemed to lubricate the skids of the sled, taking up the shock between Bjarni and the tundra soil. The dogs barked excitedly; their load, too, had been eased with the new snow and their pace increased considerably.

  As the hoary wooden hut finally meandered into his line of sight a disturbing, unfamiliar imprint on the familiar landscape alerted Bjarni and he called the dogs to a halt, hushing their animated barking. A hunter’s intuition bristled in his nerves, agitated by adrenaline and drawing his senses on to high alert. The sled glided to a stop one hundred metres short of the hut door.

  Bjarni reached for the cold steel of his rifle and withdrew it from under the pelt, his eyes fixed on the landscape as his hand searched for the barrel. He pumped a cartridge into the breech and unsteadily climbed down from the sled. Swaying momentarily on his feet, his n
ervous gaze dropped to Akiak at the head of the sled, watching her tasting the air. She had picked up on something too, but it didn’t seem to be concerning her too greatly. He moved cautiously, peering around at the landscape and sweeping the barrel of his rifle, keeping in time with his gaze and identifying every part of his world as if he was completing a checklist.

  After the storm, snow had settled precariously on the tightly raked roof and dropped into piles on the ground directly under the roofline. His eyes settled on sled tracks, carelessly left by some intruder, almost a calling card inscribed in the new powder. Faltering footprints led up to the hut door and then tracked in all directions around the hut, even over to the nearby waters of the Sund as if they were looking for something–or someone.

  Bjarni stooped to examine a smudged footprint. They were small, like that of a child or a woman and there was only one person. Maybe someone else had been watching, concealed on the sled, hoping not to leave additional footprints to alert Bjarni’s suspicious mind. The tracks showed only a small team of dogs and the sled appeared to be light. Maybe it was a coincidence; maybe they had sought shelter from the storm or maybe it was deliberate and they were looking for him.

  Bjarni was almost at the door to the hut; his concern piqued when he noticed little drops of crimson red mingled with the snow. Cautiously, he turned out of habit and glanced back to examine Akiak’s behaviour. She stood quietly, unperturbed at Bjarni’s actions, giving him confidence to enter his hut. He pushed the door open with the barrel of his gun, not knowing what to expect and guardedly stepped inside.

  Glancing around, everything appeared to be as he had left it two and half days ago; whoever it was had departed without disturbing his environment and left a small trail of blood drops. He followed the little droplets outside again and it led him to the waters of the Sund where they had tried to wash. Blood stained the snow, similar to water soaked up into a dry sponge, colouring areas of the white into a smudged pink. The stained, diluted effect told Bjarni the visitor had been gone many hours and he felt unsure of what to do. He was tired and weary after his long journey and wondered at the wisdom of roaming the wilderness to find the injured party, maybe to his own peril. He finally convinced himself the injury wasn’t a significant threat and if they were strong enough to travel, then they were strong enough to survive.

  Bjarni flicked the safety back on and pointed the barrel of his gun to the ground, then returning to the door of the hut, he whistled. The sled jumped forward and the dogs ran barking toward him, coming to a stop directly in front of the door. Bjarni released the dogs to their kennels at the back of the hut, rewarding each one with tender words and a brisk coat rub. He stacked their food bowls with dried salmon and left them to their hungry feasting and a well earned rest.

  Bjarni tried to relax, sitting on the uneven deck at the back of his hut, wondering about his unannounced visitor and what their intentions were. He flexed his tired frame, feeling the stiffness in his joints, pondering the fate of the injured person. Unloading the supplies had taken him hours longer than normal and now he was exhausted.

  Akiak had followed him around as he laboured, her deep probing eyes staring with concern. She hadn’t touched her food and Bjarni was worried about her. As he sat on the dry, tortured wood covering the deck, Akiak nuzzled his gnarly hands with her warm muzzle as he gently stroked her head and played with her soft ears.

  “I am getting older, Akiak, but I am not done with life yet, girl,” he tried to convince himself as well as his closest companion. She seemed to accept his confession and laid her head in his lap, enjoying the attention.

  “Now go and eat your food and rest; tomorrow we will start preparing for the winter.”

  He watched Akiak happily wander over to her kennel, seemingly understanding him and his assurances and then hungrily devour her food, one eye watching Bjarni.

  The late summer sun was close to the horizon and twilight gathered around the old man. He figured it was well after midnight. He stared up at the sky; the tell tale signs that the long night was fast approaching were everywhere. Soon the land and sea would freeze over again and daytime temperatures would plummet well below zero. He had a lot to do before then but now, he needed to rest and get some sleep. His familiar bed was beckoning.

  Bjarni’s head only just touched his pillow as the delicious feeling of restful unconsciousness flooded his tired mind. His almost silent, deep drawing breaths punctuated the atmosphere inside the hut for many hours. The wonder of the human body’s natural ability to repair itself during deep sleep was hard at work, until a momentary change in the tone of the old man’s breathing signalled he had entered a new phase: he was dreaming. His breaths became shorter and more laboured as the theatre of his dreams intensified, until a choking snort violently interrupted his subconscious and he yelled desperately.

  “N-o-o...! Get away!”

  Bjarni’s eyes sprang open in fright, his legs flailing, trying to kick off the attacker. His bearskin cover took the brunt of his agitation, tangled around his legs until he finally broke free, sending it tumbling harmlessly to the hut floor. Confused and agitated from trying to protect himself from the foe lurking deep in his subconscious, he searched desperately around the hut, looking for any signs of his nemesis.

  He relaxed when he realised he was safe in the confines of his home. Trying to settle again, another familiar sound disturbed his rest: Akiak’s growling alarm brought the panic back to his mind. He lurched out of bed, stumbling as he grasped at his rifle standing propped against the door frame, the place he always left it for instances just like this. He slipped the safety off, pumped the breech and wrenched the door open, taking aim at the foe agitating Akiak.

  He lowered the gun again when he saw her locked in a battle with a larger male Siberian husky, the lead dog of a sled team that had appeared out of the isolation of the wilderness.

  “Akiak!” he called, wondering what had caused her to engage in a battle with another unknown sled dog. This wasn’t like her. As he shuffled stiffly out to the unfamiliar sled and stopped just metres from his hut, his instincts were on high alert at Akiak’s behaviour. Maybe she could sense something he couldn’t. Akiak broke off the fight and slinked over to the old man, giving him a clue that her conduct was about territory and not danger.

  “What’s gotten into you, girl?”

  He rubbed her fur tenderly and checked her for injuries, bewildered by her unusual behaviour. Bjarni cautiously approached the small sled, eyeing the lead dog as he drew near. The dog had calmed after Akiak’s tirade and his demeanour seemed to be asking for help for his master.

  Not sensing a threat, Bjarni turned his gaze from the dog and his eyes settled on a figure dressed in the white fur of a polar bearskin and lying face down across the sled. As he came closer, he could see small streams of blood spilling over the side of the sled and staining the skid crimson.

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 11

  Bjarni cautiously approached the small unmoving figure lying face down across the sled, always conscious of the Siberian husky watching every move he made. Akiak offered a low growl from the old man’s side, signalling she was ready to defend her master no matter what.

  “Steady, girl, he’s not a threat; he just wants us to help his master,” Bjarni calmed her with a quick rub of her fur.

  He gently lifted the little frame into a sitting position, watching the big husky and talking soothingly to him with every slow movement. The head of the figure rolled forward, its chin resting on its chest at Bjarni’s movements. The fur hood slipped back and long black hair drifted lazily onto the woman’s shoulders and tumbled to her waist. Her face had deep scratch marks running from her eye to her mouth and fresh blood trickled down her chin.

  “Well, at least she is alive,” Bjarni’s words filled the tense air.

  He stooped down and placed his arms under the woman, ready to lift her off the sled. A low growl from the big husky warned Bjarni and he abandoned
his attempts. He leaned his rifle against the sled in an act of surrender and then crouched to the ground a few steps from the lead dog and held out his hand.

  “I’m not going to hurt her,” Bjarni’s voice was low and calming. Slowly Bjarni approached the suspicious husky with his hand held out to him. He spoke softly and moved fluidly, trying to gain his confidence.

  Before long, he had his hand within millimetres of the dog’s face and his aggressive jaws, letting him smell his scent. Akiak growled a warning close by, but Bjarni silenced her gently. Bjarni was close enough to feel the dog’s breath on his skin and to see the intelligent eyes calculating his intention, and then come to a verdict. In a moment of decision, the game became desperate. The old man’s hand touched his muzzle. The dog could inflict a terrible wound if he decided to take a sudden dislike to him. Huskies were very territorial and defended their masters to the death when they felt they were in danger. Their owners had to first earn the dog’s respect, but once they achieved this, they were loyal to the end.

  Gently, Bjarni stroked the side of the dog’s face and spoke softly at the same time, never taking his eyes off the dark retinas boring into him. The dog remained cautiously rigid, but when he didn’t object adversely, Bjarni patted his thick fur coat and then slowly moved to release him from his tethers. The Siberian then would be in a more dominant position when Bjarni attempted to lift his master again.

  Once the big husky was released from his harness, he immediately went to the woman unconscious on the sled and licked her face, whimpering at the same time. Bjarni followed him, with Akiak shadowing every move her master made. He knelt by the woman’s side and again attempted to lift her. This time the big husky didn’t object, allowing Bjarni to carry her inside his hut. He left the door open so the dog could follow and see that his master was safe and she wasn’t in any danger. Akiak also followed and growled at the presence of the bigger dog in her domain. The male dog didn’t seem to notice the threat; he was only interested in the well-being of the small woman.