1903 – OGCHOTKU, NORTHWEST PASSAGE

The five men appear from nowhere. Arctic barbarians. Helmer loads his rifle. Amundsen too. But the friendly greeting of ‘Maniktu-mi! Manik-tu-mi!’ puts paid to all threat of hostilities.

Two full winters the Norwegians stay. The Netsilik are good-natured, handsome – families mostly – and curious to see the first white faces to appear in these lonely northern regions in over a century. Soon a whole village of igloos surrounds the Gjøa. Learning to build them takes patience but the Netsilik prove excellent teachers. The Norwegians have a stilted language, strange food and poor clothing. The Netsilik men teach them hunting, survival in deep cold and how to run dog teams. The Netsilik women give them reindeer outfits, loose layers offering warmth and comfort without trapping moisture and sweat. Having experienced the limitations of his woollens, Amundsen needs no convincing about the superiority of the Netsilik clothing. He will come to rely on it. They all will.

The Netsilik dog is skinny. Amundsen has seen how it roves about the camp, whining, wolfing down human excrement in the absence of any other sustenance. It growls as Amundsen approaches his master’s igloo. He is loyal even when there is no food.

Amundsen has brought bread, Lindstrøm’s friendship offering to their Netsilik companions, who are constantly offering gifts, wildlife specimens he will take back for the museum in Norway. Lindstrøm’s collection has grown to include Arctic birds, foxes, rabbits, even ticks and lice picked off human bodies. The work keeps him busy and he is always stuffing and mounting some beast on the big chart table aboard the ship.

The bread comes straight from the oven and is wrapped in a cloth. The Netsilik children are first to gather around the curiosity. ‘Fatty made it for you,’ says Amundsen, miming Lindstrøm’s girth and puffing out his cheeks.

Magito, one of the Netsilik women, touches the loaf. The skin of her hand is dark with an accumulation of dried blood from cutting up seal meat, but her fingers are spotlessly clean, the result of much licking. She has a beautiful smile.

Steam rises when Amundsen cuts the first slice. The children finger the white interior, laughing at the strange texture, soft like the underbelly fur of a reindeer. Amundsen tears a corner off and chews it slowly, making appreciative noises and challenging the onlookers to do the same. Magito is quick to follow. Her piece is large and misshapen; it disappears into her mouth. Her eyes grow large. She scuttles outside where sounds of retching and anguished cries can be heard. Nobody moves until she returns. Cross words spill from her mouth. Their meaning is clear: you tried to poison me!

Amundsen protests. Again he slips a knob of bread into his mouth and chews. The children, the women chatter and point and Magito repeats her angry outburst, this time gripping her stomach in a melodramatic fashion. Amundsen decides it’s best to retreat.

‘Are you surprised, Fatty? No such thing as bread in the Arctic Circle,’ Amundsen dismisses Lindstrøm’s hurt feelings. ‘Only one thing will keep you warm in minus twenty and that’s seal meat and blubber.’

A boy they call Dalonakto has come aboard the Gjøa. The Netsilik often do. Making a show of his bravery, Dalonakto bites into the offending loaf and stares with defiance at Helmer.

When the thaw comes and it is time to move on, it is this boy who refuses to leave the boat, even though he must. There is no room, not enough food. Still Dalonakto insists he will join the Norwegians on their navigation of the Northwest Passage.

Helmer’s had enough. He points to Dalonakto then to Lindstrøm’s stuffed Arctic specimens. ‘You, next!’ he says pointedly. The boy does not linger.

‘A bit of a cruel joke,’ Lindstrøm says as they farewell their Netsilik hosts.

Helmer grunts. ‘Even if we had managed to chase him off the boat, he would have followed in a sea kayak until we had no choice but take him with us.’

‘Don’t you see?’ says Amundsen sagely. ‘With all we’ve learnt from these folk, we are taking him with us. We’re taking all of them with us. Not in body but definitely in spirit.’