In the middle of Moon of Forming Frost under the Roof—the middle of winter—it was night for twenty-four hours a day. This was when the North Star‚ called the “never move” star by the northern peoples‚ was visible while the sky was dark.

At “never move” time‚ Toozak laughing and teasing‚ chased Qutuuq across the floor of the large home. They ended up near her bed. Then Kakinnaaq jumped from his sleeping furs and chased Toozak away.

For many nights Toozak chased Qutuuq‚ laughing‚ to her bed only to be shouted away by Kakinnaaq. Then came the day‚ when the sun had arisen only briefly before it set‚ that Toozak thrust his lance into a lone musk oxen’s heart. The Kakinnaaq family not only had delicious fresh meat but a musk-oxen hide‚ the warmest of all furs. On that night of darkness‚ Kakinnaaq let Toozak reach Qutuuq’s bed and this time climb in. With that‚ Toozak and Qutuuq were married in the ancient tradition.

The next day Toozak sang to himself‚

“Oh‚ Siku‚ my ice whale‚

I am so happy.

So happy.

You have brought me good fortune.

Aye‚ aye‚ aye

I will protect you as long as I live.

I will live right here where you pass by.

Aye‚ aye‚ aye.”

Spring came and the whales began migrating north. Toozak every day climbed a big ice pressure ridge. He wanted to see Siku and noted all the whales that went by.

But Toozak did not see the whale and he was discouraged. Then he thought that maybe Siku was staying away from the whalers and protecting himself. He smiled.

One day‚ when the sun was shining longer‚ Toozak went walrus hunting. He killed and brought home a large one.

“They are scarce‚” he said to his father-in-law. “Only two walrus instead of two thousand were on that ice floe.”

Kakinnaaq frowned. “I have seen that too‚” he said. “Only a few walrus ride the ice floes past our village. Some evil has fallen upon us. I will ask our shaman what it might be.”

“Not the shaman.” Toozak clutched his sable in fear. “He is all-powerful and will know what I did—betrayed those whales in the sound.” He bent his head. Kakinnaaq walked out the door.

In a few minutes he was back from the shaman’s home.

“The shaman is drunk‚” he said.

Toozak was shocked. Then he began to think‚ if the shaman had magic powers‚ why couldn’t he use them to stop himself from drinking? He decided if a shaman could get drunk‚ then maybe shamans didn’t have magic powers after all. But he was not sure. One way or the other‚ though‚ he knew that he would protect Siku. He was his beloved whale‚ bonded to him—his brother. He would wait for Siku. He would watch.

Kakinnaaq thought more about Siku. “I am old and cannot help you protect Siku. Just stay connected to his spirit and he will tell you when he faces danger. We need the animals that give us life—and they need us.”

Working nonstop for days‚ Toozak’s new wife‚ Qutuuq‚ and the other village women cut‚ sewed‚ and stretched the sealskin over the umiaq frame. It was tedious‚ difficult work. The women were covered in seal oil‚ and the smell of the fermented skins was overpowering.

While the women worked‚ Toozak took one of the walrus skins a short distance from his in-laws’ house and propped it up with driftwood poles. Then he gathered some caribou skins that he had dried and scraped. Together with the walrus skin‚ they were hung to form a big square. He tied them to the driftwood crossbeams with sinew. A home was taking shape. Finally he made a roof of canvas from the sail of a wrecked Yankee whaleboat and propped it up with baleen strips . . . and the newlyweds had their first home. A year passed and spring came again. The whales would return.

Into this home on a spring day‚ Toozak II was born. His father sang.

“Sleep‚ little Toozak.

Sleep‚ sleep‚ sleep.

Siku is coming

Through the blue waves.”

The next day‚ a neighbor showed Toozak his newfangled shoulder gun‚ aimed it toward the ocean‚ and pulled the trigger. The loud BOOM surprised them both. Toozak was alarmed. Eskimos now had Yankee whaling guns. At home he had seen that this explosive whale gun could do whales great harm. Siku would be coming north. He might even be near. But it was important for Tikigaq to harvest whales so Toozak understood that Siku might offer himself to a worthy hunter.

Toozak walked out onto the sea ice. Sitting down on an enormous block of pale blue ice‚ he watched the open lead‚ a black streak of open water in the white ice. Whales swam by. After a long wait‚ the water swirled and a whale breached. On his chin was a white spot in the shape of a dancing Eskimo. Siku was in the Tikigaq hunting area.

“Siku‚” Toozak shouted loud enough to warn him. “Go. Go.!” The whale seemed to understand‚ and dove. Large ripples marked Siku’s hasty retreat.

Toozak knew that frightening whales away would draw the wrath of the whalers‚ but none were around to hear him. He prayed that another whale would give himself to the hunters of Tikigaq and Siku would be spared.

“” came from the water like a wind song.

“Siku‚ what are you saying?” Toozak wondered aloud as he lightly touched his cheek.

He waited many hours . . . no more whales came by.

Siku was safe.

Toozak smiled. He did not want to leave this magnificent ice world. He had found Siku. And he had found a home.

The ocean was blinding white but for the blue-black ice leads. Puffy clouds ringed the horizon. Geese flew north. Ivory gulls darted over the ice floes and Arctic terns called their rasping keeeyurr. The Great Spirit was kissing the world.

“My home and yours‚ Siku.” Toozak whispered so as not to frighten other whales.

Days later‚ the whale hunters of Tikigaq caught two whales for the community. Siku was far to the north.