Chinook stepped back, his eyes filled with fear. The man grabbed him by the back of his hood and dragged him forward. “Chinook, you tell!”

Cordell could take no more. He held up his hand. “Wait a minute, Monsieur! What’s going on here? Who are you and what do you want?”

The man pushed Chinook, who almost fell at Cordell’s feet. “Chinook, you tell!” roared the stranger again. Then he spoke some Inuit words Cordell couldn’t understand.

Chinook peered from beneath the hood of his parka, his eyes darting from one man to the other like a frightened fox. Cordell recognized him as Jean-Paul’s schoolmate.

“He doesn’t speak good French, Monsieur Ardoin,” said Chinook in a small voice.

“Is this man your father?” Cordell asked Chinook.

Lise came up to them. She started to speak, then closed her mouth and looked down at the boy.

Chinook glanced shyly at Jean-Paul’s mother, then turned to Cordell. “He’s my father, yes.” He looked at his father from the corner of his eye. “His name is Taguk, and he can’t talk French, just Inuktitut.”

“Ah, yes, I do believe we met once before.”

Cordell motioned to a chair, meaning for Taguk to sit. But the man was upset and anxious. He shook his head, then spoke to his son. Chinook’s face turned dark red.

Cordell spoke gently to the frightened boy. “What is it, Chinook? Is it Jean-Paul? You boys were supposed to bring him home. Where is he?”

Chinook looked from Cordell to Lise and hesitated as he tried to find words for what needed saying. And that’s when Cordell lost patience and became very angry.

“Well, I’m waiting! Do you or do you not know where our son is?”

“We didn’t mean any harm, Monsieur Ardoin!” Chinook sputtered.

“Where’s Jean-Paul?” thundered Cordell.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” cried Chinook. His dark eyes filled with fear and concern. “Please, Monsieur Ardoin, we have to look for Jean-Paul! We didn’t mean to lose him!”

Cordell grabbed Chinook by the shoulders. “Lose him? What are you talking about? Where did you leave Jean-Paul?”

“At the old apudyak. We left him in there, a big joke. He wanted to join the Ice Patrol—”

Cordell dropped his hands from Chinook’s shoulders and stared at him. “Yes, yes, we know he wanted to join the club, but—” He glanced at Lise. She was like a stone, staring blankly at the boy. “Go on, Chinook, tell us what happened.” Cordell took his wife’s hand in his.

“He was inside the apudyak.” The boy’s voice shook. Several times he forgot and spoke in his native language. His eyes moved from one adult to another. “We left him in there for two hours. We were going to let him out, but—”

Cordell’s voice fell to a whisper. “You left him in the igloo? What igloo?”

“Yes, Monsieur. The big one.”

“You can’t be talking about the haunted igloo!”

Chinook nodded. “But you see, Monsieur Ardoin, it’s not really haunted!”

Cordell groaned. “You know that and I know that. But I believe Jean-Paul thought it was.” He sighed. “Now we know where he is. He’s just waiting for the storm to stop so he can come home.” Cordell gave Lise a hug. “That means he’s safe, honey.”

Chinook shook his head. “But he isn’t! He wasn’t there when we got back! And he couldn’t get out because—” Chinook, brave as he always appeared to be, began crying. “My father made me come here! I looked for Jean-Paul! All of us looked for him, Monsieur Ardoin. Nanuk and Aiverk, too, even when they wanted to go home. But the storm was bad. We couldn’t find Jean-Paul anywhere!” Taguk spoke sharply to Chinook. “My father says we are wasting time. He says we have to go look for Jean-Paul right now before he freezes to death.”

“Dear God,” murmured Cordell.

Lise drew in a sharp breath. Cordell’s heart seemed to stop pumping. He said to Lise, “I’m going with them!” He turned to Chinook. “If anything happens to my son—!” He made a threatening move toward the boy, but Lise stopped him.

“No, Cordell! He’s just a frightened boy!”

“Well, so am I!” yelled Cordell. He tried to remain calm as he faced Chinook again, but his voice quivered. “I’ll get my team ready.” He pulled his hood up and fastened it.

Lise stood quietly by, too upset to speak, tears running down her cheeks. Cordell raised her chin gently until he could see into her eyes. “Will you be all right?” Lise nodded. He kissed her cheek and opened the door for the others. Taguk stopped him, barking strange words and waving his hands in the air. Cordell turned to Chinook. “What did he say?”

“Taguk says we’ll take our team!” Chinook wiped away his tears. “He says our dogs are faster. They know how to get around in this storm. We’ll take our team, Monsieur Ardoin, please?”

Cordell clamped a large hand over the boy’s shoulder. “Please tell Taguk I said thanks.” Then he remembered the word for “thank you.” He turned to Taguk. “Nakomik! Nakomik!”

 

 

CHAPTER 6

 

JEAN-PAUL WAS SO COLD he couldn’t cry. To another human he would have looked like a small, staggering snowman. Each time he fell, he was only a lump in the deep snow. Once, after struggling to his feet, he moved forward only to sink almost out of sight in a drift.

Sasha called to him over the roar of the wind: Hurry! Hurry, Jean-Paul! Hurry! We have to get home! In Jean-Paul’s confused mind, he could almost hear words from an animal who could not speak. He couldn’t see Sasha anymore, nor could he see much of anything at all. His eyes were crusted shut with thick blotches of sticky snow that had blown in around his hood. His nostrils were dry and swollen, his lips caked with blood where he had bitten them when he had fallen. His fur-lined mittens were wet, cold, and useless, for each time he fell, snow went inside. Stiff and hard and painful, his fingers were small icicles. He fell often, for the snow was much too deep for walking.

“Ma ... Ma . . .” Jean-Paul’s voice was weak, the words barely out of his mouth before the wind and blowing snow carried them away. He sank helplessly to his knees. He heard Sasha whine and felt her cold nose as it nudged his cheek. With his remaining strength, he pulled the pup’s shaggy body against his hurting face. He was tired and weak, and his body felt numb as he lay down in the snow.

 

The wind grew calmer, but heavy snow continued to fall, creating a silent, deathly wilderness. From a distance shone a small yellow light, moving first to the left, then to the right. Closer and closer it came, and with it came the sounds of a howling dog team.

Sasha sat up from her watch over Jean-Paul. Up went her furry, black-tipped ears, turning in the direction of the furious yapping and yelping of the strange huskies. She knew it was not Tork, nor any other dogs from home. She rose on all fours and watched, her muscles rippling with excitement beneath her fur. She wagged her tail, then she whined. But she dared not leave Jean-Paul alone. Whoever was out there in the darkness would have to come to them.

The light veered off in another direction, the barking and howling grew fainter. Sasha danced and jumped around in the snow, howling loudly.

The other team heard, and answered. The lantern light turned back in the right direction, growing bigger and brighter as the team and sled came plowing in.

Cordell and Chinook came on snowshoes before the sled, lifting their feet straight up out of the soft snow and stamping it down so the dogs could run. Cordell, swinging the lamp, caught sight of Sasha first. She bounded up to him and nearly knocked him down. He ruffled her long neck hair. “Where’s Jean-Paul?” he cried, trying to catch his breath. He was worn out, his legs weak and heavy from tromping. “Take me to Jean-Paul, Sasha!”

Sasha’s reply was a mixture of woof and howl, and with Cordell close behind, she led him to the snow-covered lump that was Jean-Paul.

“Oh! Dear God!” Cordell gasped, dropping the lantern. He knelt in the snow to scoop up his son. He staggered to his feet under the load and the clumsiness of the big snowshoes. Chinook came up behind.

“Is it Jean-Paul?” Chinook picked up the lantern and held it to Jean-Paul’s face, which looked yellow in the lamplight. “Oh, no. Is he—is he dead?”

Cordell struggled for breath. His lungs hurt to breathe. “He’s very ... cold ... needs help fast ... hope we’re not too late.” He heard a sharp cry from Chinook.

Chinook hurried alongside Cordell. “He’s so little, Monsieur Ardoin! A small okalerk.”

“A small boy, Chinook!”

“Yes, sure, Monsieur. That’s what I meant.”

Taguk and his team pulled up. The noise of strange dogs filled the night, Taguk’s harsh Inuit dialect rising above the din. Sasha ignored them and pranced by Cordell’s side as he carried Jean-Paul to the waiting sled.

Taguk spoke sharply to the team, and they became still. Chinook pulled back a thick bearskin robe and Cordell laid Jean-Paul on it, rolling him up like a sausage, with only his nose poking out. Sasha jumped onto the sled and lay next to Jean-Paul, daring anyone to prevent a husky from hitching a ride on a dogsled.

“Tell your father we’re ready,” Cordell told Chinook. “And tell him to hurry!”

 

Cordell and Lise sat beside Jean-Paul’s bed for the rest of the night. Jean-Paul was exhausted and slept fitfully, sometimes crying out in his sleep. Lise roused him from time to time to spoon warm meat broth and tea between his swollen, bruised lips. His eyes seemed sunken in his small face, but the warmth of the soup brought color back to his cheeks.

Now Sasha lay at the foot of the bed, her sad blue eyes riveted on Jean-Paul. She had not even tasted the hearty meal Cordell had set before her.

Lise spoke softly to her husband, “That pup saved our boy’s life. She didn’t leave him alone in the storm.”

Cordell agreed. He reached down and scratched the dog’s ear. “You’re one in a million, aren’t you, girl?” Sasha whined and crept closer to Jean-Paul, laying her muzzle on his leg.

Lise was thoughtful for a long time. Then, “It was a terrible thing those boys did. They’ll probably be punished for this.”

Cordell sighed. He was still very tired from his long trek in the snow and cold. “Well, I’m sure Chinook’s already punished himself, in his mind. Imagine the guilt he would have carried the rest of his life if Jean-Paul had . . .” He could not make himself say the word.

Lise smoothed Jean-Paul’s covers and lay a warm hand against his cheek. She was satisfied that he was thawing out nicely. His skin grew warmer by the minute.

“Jean-Paul did not die,” she said quietly. “He will not die, thank God.”

Jean-Paul’s eyelids fluttered at the sound of his name. He opened his eyes at his mother’s gentle touch. His eyes moved from Lise to his father. Sasha raised her head and spoke. He brought his hand from beneath the blankets and laid it on her head. He didn’t speak, but his eyes filled with tears.

“What is it, darling?” Lise asked, leaning over him. “Are you in pain?”

Jean-Paul shook his head. “No.” Still, he didn’t speak.

Cordell’s eyes were shiny and wet. He swallowed a lump in his throat and touched the boy gently on the top of his head. “You’re going to be just fine, son. You were dressed warmly. And there’s just a small bit of frostbite on your face and hands. That will heal. I suspect Sasha lay down in the snow with you to keep you warm. It’s a fine dog you’ve got yourself.”

Jean-Paul’s eyes brightened for a moment and he looked at his mother again.

“What is it, dear? Why don’t you talk to us?” Lise looked at her husband. “What’s wrong with him, Cordell?”

Cordell wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and smiled at Lise. “Nothing’s wrong. He’ll talk when he’s ready.” He looked fondly down at Jean-Paul. “Your friend Chinook told us what happened. When the boys went back for you, you were already gone. Chinook and his father helped search for you. That shows how worried Chinook was.”

Lise laughed nervously. “To think you were only about a quarter of a mile from that igloo. But in the opposite direction from home.”

At the mention of Chinook and the igloo, Jean-Paul’s eyes filled with terror. His mind cried over and over, loud inside his own head: How can I tell them what happened inside that igloo? No one would believe I saw spirit wolves! I can’t tell them I was a baby! How can I go to school and face the other boys? Jean-Paul’s brain was afire with troublesome thoughts. When he closed his eyes again, the darkness inside his mind was full of green eyes, the eyes of the torngark. He began to shake, and his mother fed him soup again, thinking he was cold.

“Please try to eat some more,” she urged. “You need warmth for the inside of your body.”

Jean-Paul opened his mouth and felt the warm, meaty liquid on his tongue. It tasted good. When he had finished and had fallen asleep again, Cordell helped Lise from the chair. “You’ve had a long night,” he told her. “You’d better get some rest.”

“Suppose he calls for me?” She yawned. She could hardly keep her eyes open.

“He’ll most likely sleep for a long time, Lise. I think the worst is over. Now you must think of yourself and our baby.”

“Jean-Paul’s still my baby,” Lise said, looking over her shoulder at the sleeping boy as Cordell led her from the room.

“A child of ten isn’t exactly a baby anymore,” Cordell said seriously. “I’m thinking we may have to give him more room to grow, eh?”

“He’s so young,” said Lise with a sigh. “But of course you’re right.”

Cordell saw Lise to their small room and helped her lie down. The old windup clock beside the bed said four o’clock. Cordell removed her shoes and tucked her under the covers.. Then he kissed her good night, though it was nearly day.

“Try to sleep,” he said.

Lise’s eyes were already closed. Cordell looked down at her for a long time. Then he turned out the lamp and went back to sit at Jean-Paul’s bedside.

Outside, the snow had stopped falling. It was early morning, but Cordell knew there would be no sunrise. In a few more months it would be spring again. He gave silent thanks that Jean-Paul had come to no real harm. Another few minutes in that storm would have been too late.

Sasha pricked up her ears, as though reading Cordell’s thoughts. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

“How I wish you could talk,” Cordell whispered. “I wish I knew what really happened inside that igloo.”

 

The next day Jean-Paul’s temperature rose. His eyes were hot and glassy-looking, and he didn’t know where he was. As Lise bathed his blotchy-red face, he rolled his head from side to side saying, “The torngark! Don’t let the torngark get me Sasha!”

Then he coughed hard, and Lise was afraid he was getting pneumonia.

“He needs to be in the hospital,” she told Cordell.

Cordell himself was plenty worried. “Perhaps,” he said. “But the blizzard made travel impossible for a while. We’ll just wait and see. Keep him warm and give him lots of water and broth.” Cordell was very sad. “Now I’m not so sure I should have asked you to move up here with me.”

“Oh, well, it’s all right,” Lise said. She looked deeply into his eyes and spoke gently. Somehow she must set aside her own feelings. She knew her husband was hurting, too. “How could you have known something like this would happen?”

Cordell shrugged and shook his head. “Maybe that’s just the point, Lise. In this wild climate anything can happen, as we’ve just found out. I feel more than a little selfish, because I jumped at the chance to work here in the Northwest Territories without giving it much thought. You and Jean-Paul are all I have.”

Cordell hung his head. And Lise laid a small, soft hand on his big one.

“Dear Cordell, you must not blame yourself. I’m a hardy soul. And somewhere deep inside, a part of me wanted the challenge of this sort of life. We’ll make it through the year ... and the next, if need be.” Then she smiled. “A new baby on the way was a definite surprise, wasn’t it? It was something neither of us considered.”

“Some surprises are nice,” Cordell said.

Lise kept bathing her son’s hot cheeks.

Sometimes Jean-Paul didn’t know his parents at all, but pushed them away with his hands and moaned about the torngark. Once he screamed, a long, bloodcurdling scream.

“Torngark! What is that word?” Lise asked Cordell. “Have you heard it? What can it mean? Jean-Paul’s terrified.”

Cordell shook his head. “Beats me.”

He left the room and returned with a small book. “I’ve looked in the language guide the missionaries gave me. But that word isn’t here.”

The next day Jean-Paul’s fever was lower. The wind had risen again during the night. Cordell didn’t want to risk taking Jean-Paul out. “If the fever isn’t completely gone by morning, I’ll try to get him to the hospital.”

That afternoon, Cordell opened the door to find Chinook and another boy. In Chinook’s hand was a small, brown package. Cordell invited them in and Chinook bent down and scratched Sasha’s ear as she came to sniff.

“She’s a nice husky,” he said to Cordell. “Jean-Paul’s a lucky boy.”

Cordell grinned. “Yes, he’s a lucky boy in more ways than one.” He looked at the other boy. “Have we met?”

“Oh,” said Chinook quickly, “and this is Nanuk. He goes to school with Jean-Paul and me.” Cordell shook Nanuk’s hand.

“We came to see Jean-Paul, Monsieur Ardoin. Do you think he will see us? Is he better?”

“Jean-Paul’s a very sick boy. He has a fever.” Cordell stopped as Chinook and Nanuk exchanged worried glances. “But he’s going to be fine. He’s asleep right now. Maybe you should come back in a day or so. I’ll tell him you came by.”

Nanuk’s dark eyes darted around the room. Chinook was nervous, too. He kept glancing up at Cordell, then back down.

“We came to say we’re sorry,” Chinook said at last. “My father, Taguk, he gave me a long talk.” Then Chinook’s face brightened. “I brought something for Jean-Paul.”

Cordell took the package Chinook held out. “Eh? What is this?” He turned the package over in his hands.

“If Jean-Paul’s too sick to open it, then it’s all right for you to do it,” said Chinook with a big grin.

Cordell opened the package and removed a small white object. He studied it closely. “Why, it’s a polar bear! Jean-Paul will like this for sure.”

Chinook was pleased, beaming from ear to ear. “My old grandfather, Kiakshuk, taught me to carve a walrus tusk,” he said proudly. “It was hard work to cut out nanuk—polar bear.” He glanced at his friend, Nanuk, and Nanuk smiled bashfully because his name meant polar bear.

Cordell examined every inch of the ivory statue. “Yes,” he agreed, “it certainly looks as though it took a lot of time and skill. I’ll thank you for Jean-Paul. When he’s well, he’ll say nakomik!”

Nanuk grinned and whispered to Chinook, “Jean-Paul’s father would make a good Inuit!”

“A good Eskimo!” Chinook said, with a laugh. Cordell laughed, too.

“By the way,” said Cordell, “maybe you boys can tell me what torngark means. Jean-Paul keeps mumbling about torngark.” He looked hopefully from one boy to the other.

Nanuk’s smile vanished. He looked sideways at Chinook. Chinook glanced sideways at Nanuk in return. Then Chinook spoke, seeing that Nanuk wouldn’t. “Torngark means evil spirit.”

“So!” said Cordell, raising his heavy, dark brows.

“Jean-Paul had a very bad time in the igloo! Did you know he’s afraid of the dark?” He could have bitten his tongue. Jean-Paul wouldn’t like for him to say he was afraid of anything.

The boys looked at each other. They turned, ready to leave. Neither of them said anything to Cordell.

“Thanks for coming.” Cordell’s words were met with silence.

Chinook looked beyond Cordell to the bedroom door, his face suddenly startled. Cordell turned to see his wife standing in the doorway.

He motioned to her. “Come see what Chinook and Nanuk brought Jean-Paul.” But Lise turned away and went back to her son’s room.

Cordell looked at the bear in his hand. “Well, I’ll give this to Jean-Paul, Chinook. I think he’ll be glad to have it.” He then shook hands with both boys.

The savage arctic wind burst into the room as he opened the door to let them out. He watched the darkness swallow them up, then turned and went to Jean-Paul’s room. Lise looked up as he entered, but said nothing as she washed Jean-Paul’s hot, red face with a cool cloth. Cordell held out the carving. She glanced at it, then turned her head away.

“A polar bear,” she said grimly, “to remind poor Jean-Paul of his ordeal in that terrible igloo in this terrible country. Just what he needs!”

A heavy silence hung between the two. Finally, Cordell placed the statue on Jean-Paul’s table, where he could see it when his fever was gone.

 

 

CHAPTER 7

 

JEAN-PAUL’S HEALTH IMPROVED day by day. His temperature fell to normal. His nose, cheeks, and lips lost their raw, blistery look. His hunger returned, also. He had lost weight while he was sick, but as days passed, his body filled out until it was once more Jean-Paul-size.

Jean-Paul’s mother was happier, too. “It’s as if we are raising nine boys,” she told Cordell, “instead of one. If Jean-Paul keeps eating this way, we won’t have enough food to last till spring.”

His father agreed. “Poking food into his mouth is the only thing Jean-Paul remembers how to do!”

But there was one thing Jean-Paul would not or could not do: he no longer spoke to anyone. And, by not talking, of course, he couldn’t go to school.

“He’s had a great shock,” said Lise, feeling pity for Jean-Paul. “As you said before, he’ll talk when he’s ready.”

This time Cordell didn’t agree. “It’s time he faced his lessons and his schoolmates! Does he expect Father Cortier to come here?”

Jean-Paul spent too much time with his own thoughts. But no one knew how he felt. No one knew what was in his heart and mind. No one knew how his stomach twisted and squirmed at the thought of facing Chinook and Aiverk and Nanuk. He thought Sasha was the only one who accepted his silence and returned it with her own quiet love.

The first thing Jean-Paul did when he saw Chinook’s carving of the polar bear was to hurl it across the room. But he wasn’t angry with Chinook. It was only that he was deeply ashamed for having proven to the boys what they had known all along: Jean-Paul Ardoin was nothing but a big sissy. He had come out of the igloo before the time was up, and had then been dumb enough to get lost in a snowstorm. But what hurt the most was how close he had come to having Chinook for a friend. Every time he saw that polar bear, he would be reminded of that.

Chinook came often to visit, to the point of being a pest. But Jean-Paul was stubborn and wouldn’t leave his room. How could he be sure that Chinook wouldn’t make fun of him if given a chance? In the meantime, he watched through a crack in the door as Chinook visited with Jean-Paul’s parents and petted Jean-Paul’s dog. Whenever they could, Chinook and the other boys brought Jean-Paul’s homework and “cheers” from Father Cortier and the rest of the children. Jean-Paul did not thank them, although he worked the lessons silently after they left.

“Jean-Paul’s acting like a spoiled brat!” said Cordell. “After Christmas he’s going back to school whether he likes it or not.”

“He’ll cheer up when it gets light again,” said Lise with a sigh.

Chinook came to visit a few days before Christmas.

“Jean-Paul’s not seeing boys named ‘Chinook’ these days,” Cordell said. “But I’ll tell you what. After Christmas maybe he’ll let you help train the pup to pull a sled.”

“I’d like that,” Chinook said, his face lighting up again. Chinook’s dark eyes smiled when his mouth did, crinkling at the corners. “I’m making something special for Jean-Paul’s Christmas, Monsieur Ardoin.”

“And so am I!” said Cordell.

 

Christmas morning the Ardoin cabin held a wonderful scent of evergreen from a tree Cordell had cut at the bank of the Mackenzie River. Decorated with stars and bells cut from old wrapping paper and several large jingle bells from old dog harnesses, the tree held an honorable position in the center of the large room.

Beneath the tree lay a special package for Jean-Paul. He looked at the tag, then frowned. And for the first time since the blizzard, he spoke. “A—a present from Chinook?”

His parents looked at each other in surprise. Their son had opened his mouth for something besides biscuits, stew, or cakes.

“Wasn’t that nice of Chinook?” asked Cordell. “Are you going to open it?”

Jean-Paul looked at the package for a long time. He ran his hands over the paper, turning it every which way, staring at it. There came a tinkling sound from inside. He slowly removed the bright ribbon and wrapping, which Chinook must have bought at the Hudson’s Bay post.

“What’s this?” His eyes shone with excitement. “A harness! Pa! Ma! Look! Chinook gave me a harness for Sasha!”

Chinook had known exactly what would make Jean-Paul happy.

Cordell, of course, had known about it in advance. “Yes,” he said, “an ano. Chinook made it himself, just for you.”

“I didn’t give him anything,” Jean-Paul said.

Lise slipped an arm around her son, hugging him gently. “I suspect the only thing Chinook really wants is your friendship. Do you think you could try?”

Jean-Paul shrugged his shoulders. He rolled his eyes toward his mother, then his father, feeling embarrassed. “Well, I might.”

“We often misjudge others until we get to know them,” said Lise. “My own feelings about Chinook changed when I saw how determined he was to make amends. He’s really a very nice boy, though a bit mischievous.”

Jean-Paul pulled the harness from the wrapping paper to examine it closer. “Sleigh bells!” he shouted. The huge bells jingled when he shook the harness. “Boy, this is great! It’s just what I wanted!”

The wrapping paper fluttered to the floor and a small scrap of paper fell out. Jean-Paul picked it up and read from the carefully-penned French: JEAN-PAUL ARDOIN IS A MEMBER OF THE ICE PATROL. He looked at his parents. He grinned from ear to ear, his cheeks puffing out with delight. “Wow! They made me a member after all! And Sasha, too! See? Her name’s right down here in the corner.”

Cordell rumpled Jean-Paul’s hair and chuckled. He went outside, and when he came back in he handed Jean-Paul his parka. “Bundle up. I’ll take you out to see what I made for you. Hurry!”

Jean-Paul went outside with his father. In a few minutes, he returned, shouting to his mother. “Ma! Ma! Pa made a sled for Sasha! Does that mean I get to keep her? Huh, Ma?”

Lise looked at Cordell. He shook his head. She looked back at Jean-Paul and said, “Perhaps. We’ll wait and see.”

Jean-Paul threw his arms around his mother. She was much fatter now than she had been a few weeks before. He recalled how fat Sasha’s mother, Lishta, had been right before she had pups. He had known his mother would grow quite large in the middle, but of course she wasn’t going to have nine babies.

“This is the happiest Christmas I’ve ever had,” Jean-Paul exclaimed, his eyes shining.

Cordell threw back his head and great barrels of laughter rumbled up from his chest. “That’s what you say every Christmas, Jean-Paul!”

 

Shortly after the holiday, Cordell, Lise, and Jean-Paul visited Chinook’s family. Jean-Paul was surprised at the way the huge snow-block home looked inside. A bench of snow lay along the back wall, spread with many layers of bear skins for sleeping and sitting. At one side of the igloo was a whale-oil cooking fire. Seal meat simmered in a big open kettle hung above the hot yellow and orange flames. The spicy aroma made Jean-Paul’s mouth water.

Lise had never been inside an igloo, either. Now she watched curiously as Chinook’s mother, Arnayak, sewed a piece of leather with a length of tough sinew. The Inuit woman looked up from her work now and then to smile at Lise. She pointed once to Lise’s golden hair and giggled, and Lise, not knowing what was wrong, felt herself blush. The two women’s eyes met as they smiled shyly at each other.

Then, Taguk entered the igloo and spread his fur mittens on a rack to dry by the fire. He spoke rapidly in Inuktitut. There was a smile for Lise, an Inuit handshake for Cordell, and a pat on Jean-Paul’s head before Taguk sat flat-legged on the sleeping ledge before them.

Jean-Paul thought Chinook looked much like his father, for he had the same broad chest, thick neck, and flat cheeks as Taguk. Their smiles were alike, too, as well as their deep black eyes. Chinook sat nearby, wearing brightly colored indoor clothes, his face turning orange from the fire light. His eyes snapped and sparked in mischief as they reflected the flames.

Before anyone could speak, a plump, dark-eyed child climbed into Taguk’s lap. Her eyes darted from one stranger to another. Lise reached to touch the child, and the little girl giggled like the tinkling of chimes.

“My sister, Lichen,” Chinook told the Ardoins. “She’s a pest!”

“I knew you had more family,” Jean-Paul said. “But where are your brothers?”

Chinook shrugged and pointed to an ancient-looking old man who sat quietly in the shadows. “Only my grandfather, Kiakshuk, and one uncle live here with us. Grandfather is nearly blind and mostly just sits. Sometimes he tells stories, but not as often as he once did. And my uncle is away, tending his trap lines. My three brothers are much older than I. They all have wives and live by the mouth of the big water.”

“Do you ever see them?” asked Jean-Paul.

“Sometimes.” Chinook laughed. “It’s not that far away, you know. It’s where we go to hunt seals. But I have too much to do to miss my brothers.”

Both boys fell silent. Then Chinook asked, “What are you thinking, Jean-Paul Ardoin?”

A slow smile spread across Jean-Paul’s face. “I was just remembering the raw fish you guys made me eat.”

Chinook giggled. Cordell glanced sideways at his son, his eyebrows going up. “Eh? You never told us you ate raw fish. How was it?”

Jean-Paul made a face, but said, “It wasn’t that bad. I had forgotten about the fish until just now.”

Chinook laughed again. “The hardest part was thinking about it before he ate it, right, Jean-Paul?”

Jean-Paul nodded and grinned. “Yeah. I almost got sick.”

“Oh, Jean-Paul,” said Lise with a frown.

Jean-Paul turned to his mother. “It wasn’t that bad, Ma.”

Taguk spoke now, his short, strong hands pacing the words in the air. Cordell smiled at the man and turned to Chinook. “You’ll have to translate again, Chinook. One of these days I’ll have to learn Inuktitut.”

“Well, you already know some words,” said Chinook. “Taguk says he is much honored by Jean-Paul’s visit with his father and mother.”

Jean-Paul smiled at Taguk. Then, to Chinook, he said, “Please say I thank him for saving my life.”

Chinook repeated the words to Taguk, who grinned and clapped his hands in delight. Many more Inuit words followed.

Chinook said, “He says not to thank him. That it’s his duty to help his neighbors.”

Cordell took Taguk’s hand in a firm clasp. “We’re grateful,” he said. “Perhaps we can help Taguk someday.”

Chinook said, “We didn’t mean for Jean-Paul to get lost. We wanted only to trick him for a while. All of us felt very bad about what happened.”

After a while, Jean-Paul said, “I brought something for you. I was saving it for a special friend.” He dug into his pants pocket. “Here.” He handed Chinook a small stone from his collection. It had beautiful silver and green streaks running through it.

“Wow!” cried Chinook, his eyes growing wide. He held the stone up and examined it from all angles. “This is great! Where did you get such a pretty rock?”

“I found it where I used to live, in Quebec. It was on a lakeshore where Pa and I used to fish. It’s the nicest one I had. You can keep it if you want. I have many others. I’ll show them to you sometime.”

Chinook gave Jean-Paul a big grin. “You proved you are very brave when you stayed in the apudyak, Jean-Paul. But I’d be your friend even if you weren’t.”

Lise and Cordell exchanged proud smiles. Then Lise said to Chinook, “Tell your mother it would be nice if we could all be friends.” She glanced at Arnayak and smiled.

Chinook spoke to his mother in Inuktitut. Arnayak grinned and patted her belly while pointing to Lise. “Nutaralak,” she said, nodding.

Lise felt her face redden as Chinook explained Arnayak’s words.

“She says you will have more nutaralak. That’s Inuktitut for baby, Madame Ardoin.”

Lise found herself relaxing. She smiled warmly at the Inuit mother. “Tell her, yes, enfant!” Lise patted her own tummy. “Ask her if she can say it in French. Enfant!”

Quick words were tossed between the two mothers by way of Chinook’s translations. Lise had resisted coming along on this trip. But now she was glad she had.

For the next half hour, the group talked about Ice Patrol and hunting and Sasha. Jean-Paul thanked Chinook for the bear statue and the harness.

“I’ll teach you to carve ivory,” Chinook said. “And I’ll also help you train Sasha. She’s a fine husky.”

Jean-Paul thought for a moment. “I’m glad she was in the igloo with me that day. I didn’t tell you I’m afraid of the dark.”

Chinook roared with laughter. “And so is Nanuk! But I want to know what happened in the haunted igloo. What did you see?”

Jean-Paul leaned closer to Chinook and whispered, “You would not believe! I saw the eyes of the torngark, all slimy green slits! No bodies, Chinook, just those terrible eyes, blinking on and off, coming closer and closer! Then a stinky red smoke came up from the floor. There was screaming, howling, and moaning. Then, a very old man—” He stopped talking and opened his eyes wide at Chinook. The igloo was filled with breathless suspense.

“Come on, Jean-Paul! And then what?” Chinook was almost jumping up and down. “What? What?”

Jean-Paul could hardly keep from laughing at the look on his friend’s face. “Well, the old man was sitting on the back of the biggest, blackest, meanest-looking wolf in the world!”

Chinook stared open-mouthed at Jean-Paul. His eyes had taken on the red of the fire. “But you’re alive. How did you get away from them?”

Jean-Paul crossed his arms over his chest and shivered. Chinook shivered, too. Even Cordell and Lise shivered. Then Chinook’s mother, thinking it a game, crossed her arms and shook her fat body and giggled. Lichen didn’t shiver. She babbled a long chain of Inuit baby words that nobody understood. Taguk didn’t shiver, either. He sat staring from one to the other, wondering why everyone was cold when there was a perfectly good fire going.

“It was very simple,” Jean-Paul said, finally. “When I was scared enough to die, Sasha jumped at the wolf! And the whole thing started flashing colors. And then it just curled up and disappeared out the smoke hole. Poof!” He threw his hands into the air. “Just like that, it was all gone!”

“Wow!” exclaimed Chinook.

“And the green eyes disappeared. But after everything was gone, I could still hear that wolf howling. I still smelled that awful smell.” He held his nose and said, “Phew!”

“Poo!” cried Lichen.

Chinook said, “Wait till I tell Aiverk and Nanuk!”

Cordell laughed and said, “That’s some story, Jean-Paul! No one would believe it in a million years!”

Chinook said, “We were only teasing Jean-Paul about the apudyak being haunted, Monsieur Ardoin. But now I think it really is. I hope it melts all the way to the South Pole!”

After they left the igloo, Cordell said to Jean-Paul, “I think you stretched the truth a little, eh?”

“I guess it paid him back!”

Lise sat on the sled, ready for the trip home. “Do you really need to pay anyone back, Jean-Paul? Did Chinook and your other friends twist your arms to make you stay in the igloo?”

Jean-Paul thought about that. “I think it was partly my own fault. I wanted to join Ice Patrol so much that I even ate raw fish and let them trap me in the igloo.”

Lise gave him a big hug as he curled up next to her on the sled. “I knew I could count on you.”

 

 

CHAPTER 8

 

THROUGHOUT JANUARY, CHINOOK SPENT his spare time helping Jean-Paul train Sasha to run with a sled. Days were growing longer now, gaining about seven minutes of light a day. Then, on January 24, the sun appeared for the first time since last November. It was a welcome sight for this darkness-weary family from the south of Canada.

The Ardoins watched the breathtaking sunrise, as they had watched the sunset several months before. First, spikes of red and gold light flared up from the horizon as the great mass of Earth’s shadow rushed into space. This was followed by the blood-red arc of the sun, leaving the family speechless. However, as welcome as it was, the sun did little to banish the cold.

One morning at breakfast Jean-Paul and his family heard a rumbling noise and went outside to investigate. On the southern horizon was a great, moving white cloud.

“Caribou!” said Cordell. “Hundreds of caribou. That cloud is vapor from the warmth of their bodies in the cold air.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Jean-Paul.

“They’re probably going to a feeding ground near the mountains,” Cordell said. “They’ll find some trees there to gnaw on. In a few more weeks they might find other food, such as moss growing on rocks.”

“Lichen,” Lise said, with a laugh. “Reindeer moss!”

Cordell put his arm around her. “And in a few months, so I am told, the mother caribou will all go to a special birthing place to have their calves.”

It was the first time they’d seen caribou so near their cabin. They watched the cloud silently until the herd rumbled out of sight over the horizon.

When they went back inside, Lise said, “Isn’t the daylight fantastic! It’s one of the best things about living here, seeing the sun for the first time in months. Soon there will be alpine flowers, and geese honking overhead, looking for open water and a place to nest.” Her eyes lit up with excitement. “How I love the sound of honking geese!”

“Don’t forget the insects!” Cordell said. “Swarms of mosquitoes and other insects to feed thousands of nesting birds!”

Jean-Paul sat down and helped himself to some bannock and the last of their strawberry jam, brought with them from Quebec. When he set the empty jar back on the table, Lise picked it up and peered inside. “Well,” she said, “that’s the last of the jam till our ship comes in again.”

“Our airship!” said Jean-Paul with a mouthful of bread. “How many weeks now, Pa?”

Cordell picked up his mug of coffee, and took a long drink. He smacked his lips, wiped his whiskers with the back of his hand, and held out the mug for more. He looked at Jean-Paul.

“The planes won’t return till this weather breaks,” he said. “I won’t have much to trade this year though. We’ll have to buy supplies with my government check—if it comes with the plane. All I’ve trapped so far are a few rabbits and that gray wolf last week. Not many, but the pelts are nice and thick. It’s still early enough to trap. What I’d like are some foxes.” Cordell stopped talking and looked right at Jean-Paul.

Jean-Paul caught the glance and guessed his father was thinking about Jean-Paul’s trap, which still hadn’t caught anything. He had just about given up hope of trapping an Arctic fox for his mother. His stay in the haunted igloo, and the illness after, had prevented him from working with the trap. Maybe his father would help reset and bait it. In the meantime, today was Sunday, and Chinook was coming again to work with Sasha and the sled.

Chinook had already been to visit Jean-Paul twice. The first time had been to see the rock collection. The next time, he brought Nanuk and Aiverk, and the four of them gave Sasha her first lesson.

Now, as if reading Jean-Paul’s mind, his father said, “How’s the training coming? Is the dog learning anything?”

Jean-Paul swallowed the last of his bite. “She’s doing okay. But I expected her to be pulling a sled by this time without help from me or Chinook.”

Cordell leaned back in his chair. “You must remember she’s still just a pup. Right now she thinks it’s a game.”

Jean-Paul laughed. “You should have seen what she did to Chinook the first time he put the harness on her. He was holding the lead when she decided to run off. And poor old Chinook lost his balance on the snow and went sliding along on his belly! It was the funniest thing I ever saw!”

His father grunted. “Maybe someone should tell her she needs a sled behind her before she runs, eh?” Jean-Paul burst out laughing.

“She ran about a mile!” he said, coming up for air. “And Chinook had to let go so she wouldn’t drag him all the way to Great Bear Lake on his belly. She’s a strong dog, Pa! A really strong dog, and you know she was the runt of the litter. She might not be big, but she’s strong. I’ll bet she could run for six days without stopping once!”

Before Jean-Paul could say more, the huskies began howling. Lise filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove to heat. She went over and opened the door, saying, “Let me guess. Why, of course, it’s someone named Chinook!”

Jean-Paul stuffed another bite of bannock into his mouth and ran over to greet his friend.

Chinook stomped into the cabin with Sasha following happily, carrying her bushy tail curled high above her back. There even appeared to be a smile on her face. Lise closed the door behind Chinook, who stood grinning from ear to ear. He pushed back his fur hood and unfastened his parka. “Are you eating again, Jean-Paul?”

Lise sighed. “It’s all he ever does, Chinook. I suspect one of these days he’ll be bigger than his father. Do you think he’ll grow that big?”

Chinook looked at Cordell. “Even my own father will never be that big. But I think he has stopped growing.” The boy laughed. “With the way Jean-Paul eats, if he doesn’t grow tall, he will just get very wide.”

“Just like you, Blubbermouth!”

“Jean-Paul!” said his mother.

But Chinook knew the name was all in fun. He laughed so hard that his face turned as red as a fresh caribou steak. “I love it!” he cried. “I love it! Now Jean-Paul’s acting like my other insulting friends! Blubbermouth! That’s the perfect name for Aiverk! I can’t wait to call him that!” He continued laughing until tears ran down his face and he could not get his breath. Sasha nudged the boy’s hand and sniffed his parka.

Jean-Paul grinned and pulled on his boots. He watched Sasha from the corner of his eye. Chinook sure has a way with dogs, he thought. Look at her sniffing and licking around on him. Maybe he carries a salmon in his pocket.

It was true that Sasha was happy to see Chinook, salmon or not. Right now she stood on her hind legs, her front paws on the boy’s chest, eagerly licking his cheek. Chinook petted the dog’s muzzle. “Maybe you won’t like me so much when we get done today. Today I’m going to hitch you up with Amarok! That one will teach you what’s what, unless you want to sit on your fine tail the rest of your life!”

A few minutes later, the boys harnessed Sasha behind Amarok. With Jean-Paul on the sled and Chinook steering from behind with the gee pole, Chinook yelled, “Hah! Hah!” Amarok had been impatient. Understanding the command, he leaned into his own harness and strained, forgetting the smaller husky trailing behind.

At first Sasha was confused by the signals Chinook gave Amarok. Chinook shouted in Inuktitut, and Sasha went sliding on her hind legs as Amarok pulled sharply around. After a moment she regained her footing and was soon running in the right direction, following Amarok’s lead.

“Good girl!” Jean-Paul yelled. “Hah! Go, Sasha, hah!”

Chinook stood on the runners. He yelled into Jean-Paul’s ear, “We don’t have to worry anymore! That’s one smart dog!”

When the session was over, the boys sat on the side of the sled and talked. Chinook said, “I almost forgot to tell you. Taguk is mending his kayak. When the ice leaves the river, we’ll all go kayaking.”

Jean-Paul had gone in his father’s canoe several times the summer before, but had never been in a kayak. He said, “I can hardly wait!” He paused a moment. “I remember how the ice sounded last year when it broke up. It crashed against the shore and sounded like great cannon shots.” In his mind’s eye, Jean-Paul could see the groaning ice floes as they wrenched free and crashed, sometimes piling up against each other on the land. “Kayaking sounds like great fun, Chinook! Dangerous, but fun!”

 

The following week Jean-Paul spent a night in Chinook’s igloo. This was his first night to sleep in an igloo since the time in the haunted one. He looked around at the fire flickering on the wall and at the personal belongings that made this particular igloo home: the sleeping ledge piled high with polar bear furs, wet clothes drying beside the fire, Arnayak’s cooking utensils, and her sewing. Above all, the warmth and scent of human bodies reminded him he was not alone. There were no evil spirits here tonight, only his friends. Jean-Paul was too excited to be afraid. Early the next morning, Aiverk and Nanuk would come, and the four would go spear fishing through the ice.

Chinook’s father was on a hunting trip with other Inuit men, but the old grandfather, Kiakshuk, was there.

Before bedtime Chinook said, “Grandfather will tell us a story now. Grandfathers are great storytellers. Kiakshuk knows many stories. I’ll ask him to speak slowly so I can repeat the words for my friend.”

Kiakshuk called the baby, Lichen, to him, and took her into his lap. Jean-Paul was warm and comfortable. He felt happy sharing the evening with his new friends.

Kiakshuk told a story about a man called Net-ser-su-it-su-ar-suk, who could not catch seals like other Inuit men.

Soon, Lichen fell asleep on Kiakshuk’s lap. Jean-Paul was sleepy, too. But he listened to a few other stories. The one he liked best was a prayer for good seal hunting, sung to a goddess named Nuliajuk.

After the storytelling, Arnayak took Lichen from Kiakshuk’s arms and tucked her beneath a bearskin. Jean-Paul, Chinook, and Kiakshuk also went to bed, Jean-Paul curling up next to his friend in the thick animal hides.

Sometime during the night, Jean-Paul dreamed he speared his first fish.

 

In mid-February Jean-Paul found a fox in his trap. Sasha moved close to the trapped animal. She whined, then touched its tail with a paw. She jumped back and barked at it.

Jean-Paul walked around the trap, looking at the fox from all angles. It was a terrible sight. The dead fox’s eyes were open and glassy. They stared right up at him over the long, pointy nose. Small ears stood up sharply, a tip of black tongue stuck out between tightly clenched teeth. The coat was thick and creamy. After tanning, it would be soft and shiny. There would even be a nice brush-tail trophy for Jean-Paul’s room.

Suddenly, Jean-Paul did not feel excited, for there was a look of suffering in the fox’s beady, black eyes.

“Oh, Sasha,” he whispered, as if the fox might still hear. “I killed a poor little fox that never did anything to me ... and made its foot hurt like mine does.”

Sasha sniffed some more at the fox and sat back down to look at it.

Jean-Paul whistled for the dog. “Well, come on. I have to go tell Pa.”

A short time later, Jean-Paul went to his father, who sat at his desk studying a small chunk of greenish ore with a magnifying glass. “What’s that?” Jean-Paul asked. “Gold?”

Cordell laid down the glass and turned to Jean-Paul. “Not gold, I’m sorry to say. This is a chunk of copper ore. It came from Yukon Territory, near an old mining town.” Cordell shook his bushy head and laughed softly. “If there’s more where this came from—!”

Jean-Paul looked more closely at the ore. “It’s big.”

“I’m going to Yukon in a couple of weeks,” Cordell said.

Jean-Paul glanced around the room. “Where’s Ma?”

Cordell pointed to the bedroom door. “Resting,” he said.

Jean-Paul lowered his voice. “I caught a fox, Pa.”

Cordell cracked a wide grin. He pushed back his chair, scraping it noisily across the floor. “Well, well! So you finally got your”—he lowered his own voice and leaned down to Jean-Paul’s ear—“fox!”

“Can you come with me?”

“I suppose I’d better,” Cordell said, going for his parka. “It isn’t every day a boy traps his first fox.”

He tiptoed to the bedroom door and peeked inside. “She’s asleep.”

When Jean-Paul and his father returned with the fox, they went directly into the shed. “I’ll skin it for you,” Cordell said, “but you’ll flesh it.”

Jean-Paul eyed the bloody animal. “I don’t really want to, Pa.”

“Nonsense. Time you learned.”

Jean-Paul had never liked the skinning part of trapping. His stomach turned over as his father pulled the hide away from the flesh. “No,” Jean-Paul repeated, backing away. “I can’t.”

Cordell laid the knife down and stood up. “If you want to trap wild animals, you have to learn to do it all.”

“I guess I never thought about the fox dying. I didn’t mean to hurt it.”

Cordell’s voice was serious when he spoke. “No one likes to hurt animals, Jean-Paul. But in this cold country, people depend on animals for clothing and food. You know that.”

Jean-Paul knew that the meat from this fox would feed their own huskies. But he was still unhappy.

“It seems cruel,” he said, frowning. “Do you think God minds?”

Cordell smiled gently through his beard. “If it’s necessary to destroy an animal for food or clothing, then He might not mind. How else would the Eskimos and Indians have survived in this climate, if not for the wild critters? God always provides for His people, and those with wisdom enough to understand this will survive.”

Jean-Paul swallowed the lump in his throat. What his father said sounded reasonable. “I want the baby to have a fox-fur parka and boots. I’ll flesh the hide, but I won’t like doing it.”

Cordell handed Jean-Paul the flesher. “It will take a while to scrape off the flesh that clings. Be careful not to tear the skin.”

Jean-Paul worked for a long time scraping the hide. It was hard work, but after a while the pelt began looking better. All it needed now was washing and stretching and softening.

 

A couple of weeks later, Jean-Paul gave his mother the pelt.

“Fur?” she said.

Jean-Paul grinned. It was the moment he had waited for. “Arctic fox fur for the baby,” he said.

Cordell slipped an arm around Jean-Paul’s shoulders. “Jean-Paul trapped this fox, honey. Every time he disappeared, he was checking his trap.”

“But nothing came for a long time,” Jean-Paul said. “Do you like it? I fleshed it myself.”

His mother stroked the soft white fur. “I don’t know what to say, Jean-Paul.” She placed the pelt on the table and hugged him. “Such a thoughtful boy! Thank you, dear.”

Suddenly Cordell said, “Did you remember I’m going to the Yukon next week to see about that copper?”

Lise dropped her arms from Jean-Paul’s shoulders and turned to her husband. “Oh, Cordell, I was trying to forget that trip!”

Cordell’s voice was gentle and reassuring when he spoke. “I’ll be back before the baby comes, eh? In the meantime, you have Jean-Paul to keep you company.”

He clamped a big hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’ll help your mother, won’t you, son?”

Jean-Paul had wished to go on the trip, too. But Cordell had already told him he couldn’t miss school. Because of that haunted igloo business, he had already missed enough. Jean-Paul knew his father was right—school had to come first.

“We’ll be okay, Pa.” It was hard to hide his disappointment.

“Sure you will,” Cordell said. “You’re a big boy now, eh, Jean-Paul?”

Jean-Paul smiled. It certainly seemed true that today he really did feel much bigger and older.

 

 

CHAPTER 9

 

THE FIRST WEEK OF MARCH dawned bright and clear. Jean-Paul and his mother stood outside watching Cordell’s freight sled until it was nearly out of sight. He turned to them once and waved, then vanished beyond a far hill. Now there was nothing but the team’s barking in the distance, a sad and lonely sound that gave Jean-Paul the chills.

His mother slipped an arm around him. “What will we do now? Just the two of us.” She sighed and led Jean-Paul back to the cabin.

 

That week, Jean-Paul went to school on his own sled, with Sasha pulling. Thinking of his mother, he went home right after school.

“My mother needs me,” he told his friends. “With Pa away she worries about the baby coming.” He tried to sound like a person who could take charge of things, no matter what.

Jean-Paul helped his mother with the chores after school, and when she wasn’t busy with other things, Lise worked on a tiny pair of fur boots. In the evenings, they played checkers or read to each other. Jean-Paul knew his mother missed Cordell.

A few days before Cordell was due home, Jean-Paul thought his mother seemed very tense. She kept pacing the floor and going to the window. But the window was still boarded up and she couldn’t see outside.

She picked up the baby boots. “I’m almost finished with these.” She handed them to Jean-Paul. “Pretty fox-fur bootees to match the small parka.”

Jean-Paul held a tiny boot in each palm. “What can fit into these?” He laughed. “Maybe my big toe!”

His mother mussed his curly hair and kissed his cheek. “Babies have tiny feet,” she said.

Jean-Paul looked down at his own feet in their scratchy wool stockings. “Maybe our baby will have regular feet, not like the crooked one I was born with.”

“I’m sure the baby will be normal. But even if she isn’t, she’ll always remember that her big brother made her first pair of boots.”

“You made them,” Jean-Paul said. “I just trapped the fox.”

“Yes, but you did it for me and the baby,” Lise said with a quick hug. “It was the nicest thing you could have done for us.”

Jean-Paul stroked the soft fur, then gave the boots back to her. “I wanted the fur very much, but I’m sorry the fox had to die.”

 

Sometime during the night, Jean-Paul awoke at the sound of footsteps. It occurred to his sleepy brain that his father might have come home. A lamp burned dimly in the other room, but he heard no voices. Since he was too sleepy to investigate, he rolled over, pulled the sleeping bag over his head again, and fell back to sleep.

 

“Wake up, Jean-Paul!” Someone nudged his shoulder. “Jean-Paul, please.”

Jean-Paul’s oil lamp burned brightly and shone through his closed eyelids. Why had someone called him? He didn’t want to wake up.

“It’s Saturday.” He turned over and hid his face again. “Go away—”

“Jean-Paul, wake up! I will not go away. I need your help! Please get up!”

His mother’s voice! Why was she waking him in the middle of the night? Into his mind came Cordell’s voice: “You’re a big enough boy to help your mother, eh?”

This time Jean-Paul rolled over on his back and blinked his eyes open, squinting at the light. His mother stood beside his cot, her blond hair hanging loosely over one shoulder. It framed her face like a golden halo in the lamp glow. He rubbed his eyes and sat up.

“What time is it?”

“Four o’clock,” answered Lise. “I didn’t want to wake you, but there’s no one else.”

She stopped talking and inhaled deeply, her hand resting on her big belly.

“What’s the matter, Ma?” Jean-Paul jumped out of bed and looked at her in alarm. He touched her gently on the arm. “Ma!”

After a moment Lise breathed easier. She turned to him, her face very serious. Jean-Paul saw that she was fully dressed in rugged outdoor clothing.

She brushed his hair from his eyes, then grasped his shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. “Are you awake enough to hear what I’m saying?”

“Uh-huh.”

She nodded. “Okay. Then listen carefully, Jean-Paul. I need your help badly. The baby is ready to be born.”

For a moment Jean-Paul thought he hadn’t heard right. “The baby? But—”

“That’s right, honey. You must help me get to the hospital.” Lise’s gray eyes sparkled in the dim light. “We must hurry!”

Jean-Paul was stunned. “But Ma! It’s not time yet! You can’t have the baby till Pa comes back! You can’t.”

Lise smiled. “Sometimes babies come early. There’s nothing you, I, or anyone else can do about that. Please get dressed.”

Jean-Paul didn’t know what to do. He stared at his mother with his mouth hanging open.

“Jean-Paul, now!” Lise ordered. “I know how you must feel, but come on and get dressed.” She lowered herself gently to the side of Jean-Paul’s bed and drew in a sharp breath. Jean-Paul was frightened. He knew he had to help. He dressed quickly, and again his mother was back to normal.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and began braiding her hair.

Jean-Paul wanted to be brave. Now that Cordell was away, his mother depended on him to help her.

“We’ll go in Pa’s big sled,” Jean-Paul said. “He took the freight sled and left the other one here. Mine’s too small.”

His mother nodded. “Do you think Sasha can pull that big sled?”

“I told you she’s strong. I think she can pull it.”

“I hope so,” Lise said with a smile. “I’ve already laid out a few things to take along. Warm robes, blankets, and the lantern, of course.”

Jean-Paul went outside a few moments later to harness Sasha. The young husky jumped around in excitement. What was Jean-Paul doing, putting on the harness in the middle of the night? She pranced around so much, her bells jingling loudly, that Jean-Paul could hardly work the leather straps. “Stand still!” he yelled. His words drifted away into the still, cold night. It was so silent that he could have screamed at the top of his lungs, and no one would have heard except his mother and his dog. Alone: that’s what he was.

Sasha whined. She was ready to go before the sled was. Then, finally, the straps were in place over her chest and back. Jean-Paul had already loaded the sled. Now he hoped there would be room for his mother. He hooked the leather leads to the sled and to Sasha.

Lise came outdoors wearing Cordell’s extra fur parka. She sat down on the sled, leaned back against the bundle of supplies, and pulled a bearskin robe around her shoulders and over her legs. Then she spoke to the dog. “You must go like the wind, Sasha!” And to Jean-Paul she said, “Do you think you can find the trail in the dark?”

Jean-Paul laughed. “I’ve gone to school in the dark for months. And besides, Sasha knows the way better than I do.”

He took one last look at their home. The cabin looked lonely out there in the middle of nowhere, as it had when he first saw it. He released the brake and pushed off from behind the sled. It never entered his mind that the sled might be too much for him as well as for the husky.

“Hah!” he shouted. “Take me to school, Sasha! Hah! Hah! Go to school, Sasha! Find Amarok!”

Sasha wagged her tail and barked. Jean-Paul held his breath and pushed at the heavy sled. The husky leaned into the harness, straining with all her might under the big load. But soon she had her bearings and began picking up speed. Cordell had iced the runners a few days before, and they were very slick. Jean-Paul jumped onto the back of the sled and let the dog have her way. His only thought was that she must not stray from the trail. The last thing he needed was to get lost with his mother’s baby coming.

Jean-Paul shouted to Lise, “Are you all right? Isn’t this fun?”

His mother turned to him and waved. “I’m fine! And you can call it fun if you want, but I’ll be glad when we get to Aklavik!”

Jean-Paul felt very grown-up. He patted his mother on the shoulder with the same affection his father always used.

“Look at her go!” he shouted. “See how strong she is! She’s the greatest little sled dog in the world!”

“Yes, she’s a wonderful husky!” Lise called back, the wind taking her words away. “Oh ... no…” She fell silent.

The sled sailed on over the well-packed sea of snow, winding around in a way familiar to Jean-Paul. Soon, they came to a long, low hill where Cordell always had to shove the sled. Jean-Paul got off the runners and pushed at the sled as Sasha struggled up the hill. From behind the sled he heard his mother cry out.

“What’s the matter?” he shouted.

Lise’s voice returned. “Nothing ... it’s ... it’s okay ... okay…”

Jean-Paul pushed harder at the sled, but instead of feeling it slide ahead, he felt he was pushing dead weight.

“Get going, Sasha!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “Come on, girl! Pull, Sasha, you can do it!”

Lise cried, “It’s no use, Jean-Paul! The hill’s too steep!”

But Jean-Paul refused to give up. “She can, Ma! I know she can!” He leaned forward and shoved hard, but the sled refused to budge. His lungs were about to explode. The blood pounded at his temples. Sweat trickled down his neck into his parka. His feet slipped out from under him on the slippery snow. Dry, powdery snow fell now, covering everything with a sparkling white cold. Jean-Paul felt his strength go, as if he were pushing at a brick wall. Finally, his breath almost gone, he raised his head and looked to the front of the lines.

“Oh, no!” he screamed. “Look at her, Ma!”

The dim light revealed the dog curled up in the middle of the trail. Sasha’s nose lay on her front paws in defeat.

Lise sat up. “What?” Then she saw. “Oh, dear God! Oh, Jean-Paul!” She slumped back against the pack. “We’ll never make it in time!” She broke off suddenly and gasped.

Jean-Paul left the back of the sled and went up front. He grabbed Sasha’s harness and tugged. “Come on!” His voice carried through the night air. “Come on, you stupid husky, get moving! Hah, Sasha, Hah!” Jean-Paul thought, If only Chinook was here!

Sasha whined and raised her head.

“You can’t stop now!” Jean-Paul tugged the harness again.

Sasha answered in small barks that sounded like, I don’t want to!

“It’s no use!” cried Lise. “The sled’s too heavy. I have to get off.”

“Sasha, get up!” Jean-Paul commanded.

But Sasha put her nose back on her paws and pretended to be asleep. Jean-Paul went back to the sled just as his mother climbed off. She reached for his arm to steady herself.

“You can’t walk up this hill!” he said. “It’s too steep. You might fall.”

“Well, what choice is there?” Lise asked with a sigh. “Sasha can’t pull the sled with me on it. She’s too tired.”

“She’s not tired,” Jean-Paul said with a glance at the dog. “She’s lazy!”

Lise began walking, slowly and carefully. She stopped to rest once or twice, leaning over and gasping with small sharp breaths. The sky was light gray now. Snow covered parka hoods and eyelashes. A pair of snowshoes would have come in handy, for snow was almost over their boots in places. Jean-Paul tried to help his mother. But she was heavy and could not stand straight. He thought what a strange pair they made, holding each other up—she with her clumsiness and he with his bad foot. Sometimes he thought they would fall together. When they reached the spot where Sasha lay peeking out of one eye, Jean-Paul scolded her. “Shame on you! What kind of husky are you? Amarok would not have stopped!”

Sasha pricked up her ears, but did not speak. Lise reached down and touched her head. “Poor doggie, she’s so tired. Come on, Jean-Paul, let’s walk ... to the top of the hill. Can’t be much farther, can it?” She moved out ahead of him, and Jean-Paul hurried to help.

“From this hill to Aklavik is still about five miles,” he said.

They were well ahead of Sasha and the sled, almost to the top of the hill. They moved slowly. Jean-Paul and his mother stopped again to rest before going on. Jean-Paul turned around and looked back to Sasha. She was standing now, watching them. Then she barked loudly three times. She whined. Her brush-tail curved over her back, wagging gently.

“You’re a lazy dog, Sasha!” Jean-Paul shouted. “You’re worthless!”

Jean-Paul was tired, too. He wanted to cry. He had promised his father he would help his mother. Now she was walking up a slippery hill with her baby ready to be born. His father would never forgive him if anything happened. And Jean-Paul would never forgive Sasha. Sadly, he turned again to help Lise.

Suddenly, from behind them came the sound of sleigh bells, and runners slishing over snow. They turned together to see Sasha pulling the sled up the hill. Her belly was low to the ground, her tail and ears down.

Jean-Paul dropped to his knees and whistled. “Good girl! Come, Sasha, come!”

Pulling the sled to the top of the hill was easier without a passenger. Sasha soon got her second wind and pulled so fast that she passed Jean-Paul and his mother. Then she stopped and waited for them to catch up. She sat down in the snow, her pink tongue hanging out.

Lise struggled with Jean-Paul to reach the sled. “If I didn’t feel so tired and miserable,” she said, “this would be funny enough to laugh ... but I can’t laugh…” Her teeth chattered. She pulled her hood closer around her face.

Jean-Paul helped her the last few feet. When they reached the sled, she sat down on the side of it. Sasha whined.

“I don’t s–see how I c–can go on,” Lise said. “How much f–farther?”

Before Jean-Paul could reply, she stiffened and groaned. He was terrified! “What can I do?” he wailed. “We’ve got to go on! It isn’t far now, Ma. And the trail’s flatter.” He reached out to touch her. But she looked so strange that he yanked his hand away. Suppose she has the baby right now! he thought in a panic. Could she have it without help?

After a while Lise sighed and lifted her feet into the sled. She lay back against the bundle, panting hard. “We have to find shelter very soon. I can’t give birth in the cold, like a mother dog has pups.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry to worry you so much, Jean-Paul.”

“It’s okay, Ma.”

But Jean-Paul wondered if that were true. He knew he had to work fast. Time was running out. If anything went wrong, it would be his fault. He went back to his position behind the sled.

“Please, God!” Then he yelled to Sasha, “No more fooling around now! Hah, Sasha, Hah!” He had never used a whip to make the husky go. But if he had one right now, he would be tempted to use it.

He shoved off with his good foot as Sasha began pulling the sled again.

 

 

CHAPTER 10

 

THE TRAIL RAN DOWNHILL into a valley. Jean-Paul knew the sledding would be much easier. Sasha barked excitedly as she picked up speed. She had run this same trail many times and knew the way to Aklavik.

The descent into the valley was over in no time. The trail leveled out again, and Sasha’s “second wind” kept her running. A shadow loomed suddenly in the distance. Sasha broke from the trail and ran directly toward it. At first, Jean-Paul wasn’t sure what it was. But as they came closer, he knew. He fought the husky and the sled, trying to steer them back onto the trail.

“No, Sasha, no!”

Lise sat up. “What’s the matter?”

But Jean-Paul’s mind was on the thing that lay ahead, and he seemed not to hear. “No, Sasha!” he screamed.

Then Lise saw it. “Oh! An igloo! We must stop!”

Jean-Paul was frantic. His stubborn husky was taking them directly to the haunted igloo. Old fears rose up inside of him. Tears of anger gushed down his face, perhaps to freeze there forever. “Not that one, Ma! Please, not that igloo!”

He tried once more to turn the sled, but Sasha came to a complete stop a few feet from the igloo. She turned to Jean-Paul and wagged her tail. She barked loudly and danced around in the snow. She had done her part to make up for lost time.

Lise tried to stand. “Oh, lovely Sasha! Jean-Paul, help me.”

But Jean-Paul was frozen to the spot. He did not hear as he stared through his tears at the igloo. It was larger now, more like a small hill, from all the drifted snow. Someone had built a new entrance.

“Jean-Paul ... help me…”

Jean-Paul shook his head to clear his mind. He looked with dismay at his mother. His voice shook when he spoke.

“You can’t g go in there!”

“Nonsense!” Blond hair stuck out in all directions around his mother’s face. Her eyes were feverish and wild. “It’s the answer to my prayers!”

“It’s the haunted igloo!” Jean-Paul screamed.

Lise tugged the parka closer to her throat. “There’s no such thing, Jean-Paul! I need to get inside, at once!”

“But there are torngark in there!” he whimpered. “And wolf spirits!”

Lise found her balance and stepped up to Jean-Paul. She grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and looked into his terrified face. “Listen to me, Jean-Paul! You must forget evil spirits! The baby’s coming! This is no time for foolishness!”

Jean-Paul’s heart lunged into his throat. “No, Ma, no!”

“You must help me!” She gave him a little shake. “Jean-Paul, you absolutely must! I’m counting on you!”

“I can’t! Don’t ask me to. I can’t!”

Lise shook him again, then dropped her hands. “Very well. I’ll go in there alone. And you may stand here and cry all you want!”

Jean-Paul was ashamed of himself. He brushed at his tears with the back of his hand. Sasha had brought them to this place for a reason. He knew that if the baby was coming, there was no time to get to the village. His father’s voice pounded inside his head: Help your mother, Jean-Paul! Help your mother, eh?

“What do you want me to do?” he asked in a small voice. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

His mother smiled. “Thank you, Jean-Paul. Now, you must help me get inside that igloo. Bring in the bundle and the lantern. I’ll need some heat and light.”

Without another word Jean-Paul untied the pack of robes and blankets. He picked up the lantern and found the tin of wooden matches. The match lit with the first strike, and he touched the flame to the wick of the lamp. The lamplight cast a yellow glow on a circle of snow around them and filled the air with the strong odor of kerosene. The orange and blue flame flickered as a gust of air seeped through cracks in the lantern, but the fire held.

Jean-Paul pushed thoughts of spirits from his mind and dropped to his hands and knees before the opening. Sasha barked as he entered the igloo with the lantern.

Inside, Jean-Paul stood up and looked around. The igloo was really deserted. A shiver ran down his spine, but he tried to ignore it. He set the lamp on the snow-packed floor and turned to go after the bundle. Near his feet lay a wolf pelt—shaggy and gray and probably full of fleas.

“It’s the thing I felt that day,” he said aloud.

For a moment he thought he heard a wolf howl. But, no, Sasha had yelped again, outside. The light from the lantern made scary shadows on the igloo’s cold white wall—wavering shadows that made the round room close in on him. He fought back the band of fear that tightened his chest, and he crept back outside into the fresh air.

“Take the bundle,” Lise said. “I’ll follow.” She got down on hands and knees, slowly and gently.

“Can you do it?” Jean-Paul asked.

His mother gave a little cry. “I have to, don’t I? I can’t stay out here in the cold. You go first.”

Jean-Paul crawled into the igloo again. In the middle of the floor beside the lantern, he dropped the pack and quickly untied the thongs, unrolled it, and spread the robes on the floor. He heard movement and turned to see his mother coming slowly through the opening. He reached out to help her and she took his hand. Her breath came fast and hard as Jean-Paul helped her to the bundle of robes, and she sat down. Lise removed her parka and said, “You have to go on to the village. Bring someone to help.”

Jean-Paul’s eyes widened with fear. “Pa would skin me like a dead fox if I left you alone here!”

Lise sighed. “You know perfectly well that your father isn’t a monster. He’ll understand when I explain what happened.” Her skin was shiny with sweat. “You must go now. Sasha will run faster now that the sled’s empty and she’s rested.”

“No, Ma,” Jean-Paul whimpered. “I promised Pa—”

It was the last straw. Lise angrily tossed the parka on the floor beside her. “This baby’s life may depend on whether or not you obey! Go now, Jean-Paul!” Then her voice softened. She blew him a kiss as she lay down upon the robes, covering herself with an extra one. “I do love you, you know. Godspeed!”

After one last pleading look at his mother, Jean-Paul went back outside. He was very afraid. How could he leave her out here alone? He fought the urge to cry again. But tears were not going to help at this point. He sat on the side of the sled, thinking. He looked at the big igloo. It no longer seemed scary now that his mother was inside it. Sasha whined, and he got up and went to her. He stroked her thick, silvery muzzle, telling her what a wonderful dog she was. Then, suddenly it came to him what he must do. He removed Sasha’s harness and led her to the entrance of the igloo. “Stay!” he commanded.

As he moved away, Sasha bounded after him. This time he was very harsh. He took her back and scolded her. “No! I want you to STAY! STAY with Ma, Sasha! STAY until I come back!”

The pup sat and looked up at him, studying him with her pale-blue eyes.

Jean-Paul then spoke again, and this time his voice was softer. He took the animal’s beautiful, gentle face in his hands. “I’ll be back soon. You have to stay with Ma. You must stay with my mother, Sasha. And someday, when you have your puppies, I’ll stay with you, okay? You can rest while I’m gone.”

Jean-Paul did not know if she understood or not. He turned and hurried to the trail as fast as his limp would allow. How strange that he hadn’t thought of aches or pains since they had left the cabin. He turned once more to look back at his beloved pet. She stood up and barked. Her tail was a bushy flag of fur waving over her back. But instead of following, she turned and entered the igloo.

Without his husky, Jean-Paul’s walk to the village was lonely and cold. With every step, he wanted to stop and lie down in the snow. He didn’t think he could make it. But he had to! As long as his mother was alone in that igloo, he would keep walking. He moved as quickly as he could with his crooked walk. He thought it might not be a bad idea to be an okalerk at that moment. Then he could hop fast all the way to Aklavik.

Soft flakes of snow drifted earthward from a calm gray sky. There were already about two inches of new snow over the packed trail. His boots sank in, leaving strange footprints—one large one and a smaller one that was more a toe-print. An Inuit following his trail might wonder what sort of strange animal he tracked.

In the bottom of Jean-Paul’s mind were thoughts trying to bubble to the surface. But on reaching the front of his brain, they burst into a million pieces and sank again. What is it I’m trying to remember? He shook the unfinished thoughts away and plodded on.

The exercise warmed him. He tossed back his hood, let the falling snow turn his hair silver, like Kiakshuk’s. He unfastened his parka, stopped to get his breath. Now his legs did ache, the more he thought about it. It had been a long time since he had walked so far. Certainly, he had never walked all the way to Aklavik. He wondered if anyone would even be awake at such an early hour.

His heart jumped as he thought suddenly of his mother in the igloo, with no other help than that of a dog. He tried to hurry. The closer he got to the village, the lighter the snow fell. Then, it stopped snowing altogether. The early morning sky rushed out to greet him with rays of pink, violet, and rose.

The settlement lay yet another mile or two away. Jean-Paul would reach the native dwellings long before he reached Aklavik. Oh! Now he knew what he had been trying to recall: Chinook’s igloo was not far away, and Chinook had a big, strong husky—Amarok. He would ask Chinook to take him to the village for Dr. Morgan.

The air cooled his head and chest. Jean-Paul closed his parka again and adjusted the hood over his head. This was no time to get chilled and sick.

Sometime later, Jean-Paul arrived at Chinook’s igloo. He caught his breath, then shouted, “Chinook! Chinook! Are you in there?” He looked around for Amarok, and a rattling chain told him the great dog was staked behind the igloo. But the husky did not bark, for he knew it was Jean-Paul. “Chinook! It’s me, Jean-Paul!”

This time Chinook’s friendly smile and laughing eyes appeared at the opening of the igloo. “Jean-Paul Ardoin!” he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. “I must still be dreaming! What are you doing here on Saturday? Where are your husky and sled?” Chinook peered out beyond Jean-Paul. “Did you fly from your igloo to mine? Come in, come in!”

Chinook moved back through the entrance of the tunnel so Jean-Paul could enter. Jean-Paul pushed his hood back and quickly looked around. Chinook’s mother, Arnayak, stooped over a kettle on the fire, stirring something thick and delicious-smelling with a long-handled spoon.

“Chinook!” Jean-Paul blurted, “I have to go for Dr. Morgan! Ma’s in the haunted igloo having her baby! I left Sasha with her—”

“What?”

“We were going to the hospital on the sled, but we had to stop because the baby wouldn’t wait—”

“The baby’s here already?”

“No, not yet. Ma’s all alone out there, Chinook. I left Sasha with her for protection.”

Chinook tipped his head and studied Jean-Paul. “I don’t believe you walked all the way from that igloo.”

Jean-Paul nodded. “Well, it’s true, Chinook. I’m on my way to get Dr. Morgan.” He took a deep breath. “I’m afraid, Chinook! Pa didn’t come back yet, and the baby’s coming early. I need your help.” Jean-Paul felt suddenly shy.

Chinook punched him gently on the shoulder. “Hey, that’s what friends are for! And I’m your friend, right?”

Chinook spoke rapidly to his mother and Arnayak asked Chinook many questions. She removed the pot from the fire, found a small pail, and scooped some of the food into it. After snapping a cover on, she pulled on her high fur boots, lacing them tightly past her ankles. As she came to Jean-Paul, speaking in Inuktitut, she pulled on a parka of orange-flowered material from the trading post. There was a twinkle in her snapping black eyes. Jean-Paul smiled, too, but he didn’t know what she wanted him to say. Lichen came to her mother, and Arnayak turned from Jean-Paul long enough to speak to her child. Lichen stared at Jean-Paul for a moment, then toddled over to Kiakshuk, who had appeared from the shadows, half-dressed. Kiakshuk had been elected babysitter.

Chinook tapped Jean-Paul on the shoulder. “My mother says, ‘Let’s go!’ She knows all about having babies. She can help. She’ll go to your mother while we go for the doctor.”

A few minutes later, Jean-Paul sat on Chinook’s sled while Chinook harnessed Amarok. He watched Chinook’s mother as she walked swiftly up the trail toward the haunted igloo. Her round body bumped from side to side over the newly fallen snow, and Jean-Paul could hardly keep from giggling. She carried the food pail in one hand. A small bundle hugged her back. In her parka, she looked like an orange bear going camping.

When Chinook finished with Amarok, he said to Jean-Paul, “I’m all set!”

Jean-Paul looked up the trail. Arnayak was now much smaller than before.

Chinook said, “Feet were made before sleds. My mother will be at the igloo long before we reach Aklavik.”

Chinook stepped behind the sled and kicked off, yelling to Amarok in Inuktitut. With a yelp of excitement, the big husky threw his broad chest into the harness. The sled moved swiftly over the snow, leaving Arnayak far behind. Chinook’s mother was now just a small orange speck in the distance.

The trip to the village did not take long. Past the Mission school and Hudson’s Bay post they raced. When they neared the small hospital, Chinook slowed Amarok to a walk. Finally, they came to a complete stop. The two boys left the sled in the road and went up to the door. The building was dark and deserted looking.

Chinook rapped on the door, but there was no sound from inside. They waited and waited. Then Jean-Paul banged loudly several times. He looked with alarm at Chinook.

“Nobody’s in there!” he cried. “What kind of hospital is this?”

Chinook shrugged. “It’s just a small hospital as you can see. And I guess no one’s sick enough to be here.”

“But what am I going to do now?” Jean-Paul cried. “My mother needs the doctor! And Pa will skin my hide for leaving her alone! I didn’t want to, Chinook, but she made me come for help ... and ... there isn’t any help!”

Chinook laughed. “It sounds like Jean-Paul’s more worried about what Jean-Paul’s father will do to him, than what happens to his mother.”

“That’s not true, Chinook! I am worried about Ma! I don’t care what happens to me, but—”

Chinook put his arm around his friend and found he was shaking. “Come on now, Jean-Paul Okalerk. Maybe the doctor had to see someone else. Maybe another mother is having a baby. Maybe the doctor is sick. Doctors get sick, too, you know. There are a lot of reasons for Dr. Morgan not being at the hospital.”

“But there’s no reason to close a hospital!” wailed Jean-Paul. Tears ran freely down his cheeks. It was a childish thing to do in front of his friend, but he just couldn’t help it. For a long time, he couldn’t even speak, the pain was so great.

But Chinook said brightly, “Who needs a doctor anyway? Mothers have been having babies for millions of years, right?” Jean-Paul nodded, and Chinook went on, “So, who helped them when they didn’t have doctors? Other old ladies, that’s who.”

Jean-Paul knew Chinook was only trying to cheer him, but he felt he would never be happy again. He had really messed things up good this time. If he hadn’t stopped for Chinook, he might have gotten to the doctor before he left ... or died or whatever.

“Have you ever seen a baby being born, Chinook?” he asked suddenly, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve. He brushed the salty tears from his lips.

Chinook laughed. “No, I haven’t seen that! They always send me outdoors when a baby’s being born. I only know about dogs. I’ve seen lots of dogs having pups, so I guess there’s not much difference.”

Jean-Paul couldn’t tell Chinook he had never even seen puppies born. His father had planned to let him watch when Lishta had her pups, but she had surprised everyone by having them in the middle of the night. Yet, he couldn’t tell his best friend that. He would just let Chinook think there were some things he knew.

Chinook led Jean-Paul back to the waiting sled and pushed him into it. “I guess we have to go to the igloo and see what’s happening. But at least Arnayak will be there. I told you she will help.”

Jean-Paul leaned back and moaned as Amarok began pulling the sled again. “I wish Pa was home, Chinook. He’ll kill me when he finds out I couldn’t help her.”

Chinook chuckled. “You wish your pa was home so he can kill you?”

“That’s not what I meant, Chinook! You quit making fun of me.”

“You worry too much!” Chinook called from behind the sled. “I never knew a boy who worries like you do. You’ve got to keep happy, Jean-Paul!”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Jean-Paul retorted. “Your mother isn’t about to have a baby in an igloo!”

Chinook’s laughter rang out in the cold morning air. “Oh, Jean-Paul! My mother had all her babies in an igloo!”

Jean-Paul shrank back against the sled. He had said the wrong thing again. When would he learn to keep his big mouth shut! He clamped his lips together tightly, refusing to say another word to Chinook, who would probably tell all the other kids how stupid Jean-Paul Ardoin was.

Chinook swung Amarok around in a wide circle to head back the way they had come.

 

 

CHAPTER 11

 

AMAROK RAN SWIFTLY WESTWARD after leaving Aklavik. A few minutes later he raced past Chinook’s igloo and left the tree area for open country. The huge furry dog streaked on over the trail, which had but a small dusting of new snow. From somewhere up ahead came the howl of a wolf. Amarok answered his distant cousin in the same manner. Jean-Paul shuddered, recalling the eyes he had seen in the haunted igloo, the things he had imagined hearing. For now he knew it had only been his imagination. Was his mother seeing and hearing things like that?

The igloo came into sight. Just a few more minutes and Jean-Paul would know what was happening with his mother. What would she think when he didn’t bring the doctor? Of course, Arnayak would be there. But Lise didn’t know her that well. Maybe she wouldn’t let Arnayak come inside the igloo.

When Amarok stopped the sled near the big igloo, there was no one around, and there was no sound in the still of the morning. Where was Sasha? Sasha would have been aware if someone had come to the igloo. She would have come out to greet them.

Jean-Paul’s knees shook as he jumped from the sled and ran to the entrance of the igloo. Chinook followed, and together they stopped and looked at the ground: fresh blood! Chinook knelt and examined the snow.

“Something’s been here,” he whispered to Jean-Paul. “Maybe a wolf or a fox. The tracks are too messed up to tell.” He looked up at Jean-Paul, frowning.

Jean-Paul leaned over and looked. “Well, that’s probably Sasha’s tracks right there, Chinook. See? This one looks like hers.”

Chinook stood up and looked around. “Maybe,” he said, shaking his head. “But where did all the blood come from?” He gazed thoughtfully into the distance, then pointed north. “The trail of bloody prints goes that way!”

Jean-Paul shivered. There was not only blood on the snow, but Arnayak’s pail lay nearby. Its lid was off, the contents scattered over the ground in a fishy-wet mess. “Your mother’s bucket of food,” said Jean-Paul, feeling sick. “Something made her drop it.” His knees shook something awful. He knew Sasha wouldn’t leave his mother alone at the igloo. He was sure the dog wouldn’t go off hunting after he had ordered her to stay. He didn’t really know what to think. Now, a strange, soft sound came from inside the igloo. Jean-Paul jerked around to listen.

“What is that?” he whispered, his eyes large and scared. “Do you think something got in there after my mother?”

“And my mother, too,” said Chinook. “Look, here are her tracks going into the igloo.”

Both boys looked anxiously at each other as a different sound met their ears. It was the same lonely cry of the wolf they had heard earlier on the trail.

“That’s it, Chinook! A wolf was here!” Jean-Paul looked down at the tracks again. He was very sure now. These prints looked like a wolf’s. Sasha’s were smaller.

Chinook moved carefully toward the entrance of the igloo. “There’s only one way to find out. We have to go inside. Are you brave enough?”

Jean-Paul’s heart jumped. If anything had gotten his mother and his dog! He got down on his hands and knees and took a deep gulp of cold air. “I’ll go first.”

Chinook squatted next to Jean-Paul. “See anything yet?”

“Just a small light. But there was a lamp going when I left.” He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m going in now.”

Jean-Paul had no sooner stuck his head inside the tunnel when something cold and damp touched his nose. He jumped, and backed out faster than a fish on a hot griddle. He felt the air sizzle out of his bravery.

“Something’s ... there’s something in there!”

A black nose suddenly appeared at the entrance, followed by a pure white muzzle and a pair of cool blue eyes. Sasha wiggled through the opening and trotted up to Jean-Paul, wagging her tail. He threw his arms around her neck and buried his nose in her fur. He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

“It’s only Sasha!” exclaimed Chinook. He tweaked her ears as Jean-Paul hugged her. “We were afraid of your husky!”

A shrill cry came from inside the igloo, a very angry-sounding cry. Jean-Paul released Sasha and stood up. “What do you think that is?”

Chinook laughed, his dark eyes crinkling with mischief at the corners. “I think maybe it’s your baby brother or sister!”

Jean-Paul’s mouth fell open. “You mean that’s what they sound like? It sounds like a pig squealing. Do I have to listen to that for the rest of my life?”

Chinook thumped him on the shoulder. “Only till it learns to talk. Then you might settle for the pig.”

“Gosh!” said Jean-Paul, turning toward the igloo. “I’ve never been around a newborn baby before.”

“And when it learns to walk,” said Chinook with a chuckle, “then you’ll have bigger problems. Babies tag around after you and get into your things. They never leave you alone.”

They heard a loud grunting noise and saw Arnayak squeezing through the tunnel opening. It was so funny that Jean-Paul nearly burst out laughing. For a minute he thought she was going to get stuck. If the haunted igloo was going to be used as a birth place, someone should make the opening bigger.

Chinook helped his mother up. She held onto his arm till she got her balance. Her hood was thrown back, her face happy. She spoke quickly to her son, and Jean-Paul wished he could understand Inuktitut. When she had finished, she came to Jean-Paul and spoke, pointing to the igloo.

“She wants you to go inside,” said Chinook. “She says your mother hears your voice and wants to see you.” Chinook pushed at Jean-Paul. “Go now! Hurry!”

Sasha went inside ahead of Jean-Paul, barking for him to follow. And a moment later, he was kneeling beside his mother. She smiled and held a small bundle against her chest. For a moment Jean-Paul couldn’t speak. Then finally the words tumble out. “I couldn’t find the doctor, Ma! You sent me for Dr. Morgan, but he wasn’t there and ... and the hospital was closed ... and ... and…”

Lise beckoned, and Jean-Paul moved closer. Her face was flushed. Her voice was warm and kind when she spoke. “Shhh, everything’s fine now, Jean-Paul. I never needed the doctor, you see. A small miracle took place in your haunted igloo.”

She began unwrapping the blanket. A small head with fuzzy black hair appeared, then a tiny red face with eyes screwed up tightly. A small round mouth made sucking motions, and a pink little fist—no bigger than a pup’s paw—shot into the air as if waving at Jean-Paul. Jean-Paul watched in amazement as the infant cried out. How could anything so small make such a loud noise? He looked at his mother and smiled.

“Is—is it all right for me to touch it?”

Lise held the baby closer to Jean-Paul. He took a small fist into his bigger one. Tiny wrinkled fingers opened and closed around his own. Suddenly, Jean-Paul was the happiest boy on earth.

“It’s strong! See how it holds my finger? And, look. It’s even got fingernails!”

“How do you like him?” asked his mother.

“Him?”

Lise laughed softly. “Yes, dear, your baby sister turned out to be a brother.” She covered the baby again. “It’s cold in here. We must keep him warm.” She looked at Jean-Paul with love in her eyes. “And do you know what?”

“What?”

“Well, your beautiful Sasha helped keep him warm until you came back. She lay down next to me and I put your brother next to her warm fur. What a lifesaver she was! You should be very proud of her.”

Jean-Paul looked at Sasha, who now lay next to Lise. Her pointed ears came erect at mention of her name.

“I told her to stay by you,” Jean-Paul said proudly. “She didn’t want to, but she did anyway. Now I’m glad I walked all the way to Chinook’s.”

Lise touched Jean-Paul’s soft, curly hair. “I’m sorry about that, honey. But you did the right thing. And Chinook’s mother came to help.” She smiled. “I couldn’t understand much of what Arnayak said, though.”

“Was she in time to help? Chinook said she knows all about babies.”

Lise looked down at her infant, who was sleeping again. “This child wouldn’t wait for anyone. I was alone, except for Sasha.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s all right now,” she told him brightly. “Do you know Sasha almost didn’t let Arnayak inside the igloo? She was very protective.” Lise lay back and closed her eyes. Jean-Paul thought she had gone to sleep. But after a moment she opened them. “Something else happened. I’m not sure what—a fight or something—outside. Sasha tangled with some other animal just before Arnayak came. Of course, the poor woman couldn’t tell me what happened.”

Jean-Paul leaned over and watched the baby, although he couldn’t see much more than its nose. He still could not believe he really did have a brother after all those years. How long would it be before he could take the little one for a ride in the sled? Then his mother’s voice cut off his thoughts. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

“What? Oh, I was thinking about the baby. And the fight. I think that must have been a wolf. Chinook and I heard a wolf howling before we got here. There are bloody tracks outside.”

Lise looked thoughtfully at Sasha, who lay with her nose on her paws. “She didn’t have blood on her,” she said.

“Then it must have been wolf blood. Sasha must have bit the wolf to make it run away.”

Lise scratched Sasha’s ear. “She saved your life once, now mine and the baby’s. I hate to think what might have happened if she hadn’t been here and the wolf had come inside.” She looked around the igloo, at the shadows where the lamplight didn’t reach. “This place isn’t so bad, Jean-Paul. I didn’t see a single evil spirit.”

Jean-Paul grinned, knowing his mother was teasing. “Maybe there never were any. Maybe I was just being a baby, like when I have to leave a light on all night.”

His mother smiled. “Perhaps it’s time to put some childish habits behind you. What do you think?”

Jean-Paul didn’t answer the question. But he had an idea what that answer might be. If there was a new baby in the family, then he, Jean-Paul Ardoin, would have to be the big brother. He would have to set a very good example. Now he stood up.

“Is it all right if Chinook comes in to see the baby?”

“Of course it is.”

In a moment Chinook and his mother were squatting beside Lise and her new baby. Arnayak kept speaking Inuktitut and pointing to the baby, then to Sasha.

“She’s telling us that Sasha almost didn’t let her come near your mother and the nutaralak. I mean enfant!” Chinook grinned at Lise. “And she threw the pail of hot seal stew at the wolf. Then Sasha ate some of it. Only then would she let my mother come inside.”

Lise brushed her hair away from her forehead and beckoned for Arnayak to come closer. She pointed to the baby, smiled at the woman, and said, “Nakomik, Arnayak, nakomik!”

Arnayak clapped her hands and spoke rapidly, her face blooming with delight. She pointed to Lise’s blond hair. Then she reached out to gently stroke it.

Chinook laughed. “My mother says she wants hair that color of mush. She says how do you make yellow hair?” Everyone laughed. Chinook looked seriously at the baby. “This one will have the hair of his brother.” He stood up and wrapped his arm around Jean-Paul. “My best friend isn’t so tall, but his heart is very big! He was concerned about his mother and her new son.”

Lise smiled and took Chinook’s hand. “I’m happy you’re Jean-Paul’s friend, Chinook. And if you will teach me Inuktitut, your mother will be my friend, too.”

Chinook repeated that to his mother, then he said, “She will like that, Mother Ardoin. There’s no word for Ardoin in Inuktitut, so she calls you ‘Yellow Mush’!”

“Oh, no!” cried Lise. “Wait till Cordell hears that! He will never stop laughing!”

“She means it as a compliment,” Chinook said.

Suddenly, Arnayak was bustling around, picking things up and putting them in a pile. She spoke to Chinook, who began to help.

“She says it’s time to take you home. She says tiny baby can’t stay in a cold apudyak. Apudyaks are for Inuit nutaralak, not kablunak enfants.” Chinook was quite pleased with himself for making such a funny mixture of French and Inuktitut. “We’ll take you home, then my mother will come to your log apudyak and help.”

Lise smiled at Arnayak, and Arnayak squeezed her hand.

“How do you like my brother?” Jean-Paul asked Chinook.

Chinook studied the sleeping infant. “I think he is small. He won’t amount to much until he gets on his feet and runs like the wind, and gets into his brother’s stone collection.”

“His feet!” Jean-Paul turned to his mother. “You didn’t show me his feet! I want to see if his feet are normal.”

“Of course they’re normal.” She pulled back the blanket. “See for yourself. His feet are perfect.”

Jean-Paul stared at the tiny pink feet. He could not imagine they might someday wear size fourteen boots. His mother covered them again, saying, “We don’t want them to freeze, do we?”

Jean-Paul was happy that his brother would not have to walk like an okalerk. “You should put his new boots on him, Ma. They’ll keep him warm.”

Lise agreed. “He’ll get dressed after he has a bath.”

“What are we going to name him? Did you and Pa think of a good name? Pa’s going to be very surprised when he comes home.”

Lise’s eyes sparkled. “We’re going to call him Pierre, after your Uncle Pierre.”

Jean-Paul groaned. He did not like that name. He liked the uncle, but thought the name was terrible. “I think we should name him Chinook, after my friend.”

Chinook stopped what he was doing and grabbed his throat. “Ukk!” he cried, sticking out his tongue. “That’s no good name for a French baby, Jean-Paul Okalerk! You better stick with Pierre! Chinook Ardoin? Ukk!”