Between Two Worlds (6 page)

“Ally would know.” Duncan looked away. “Why are
you
going to Ellesmere Land right now?”

“For food,” I said. “Food is the only reason to make a journey. In Itta we have seals and narwhal. But we don’t have musk oxen. Their meat has the best flavor of any meat.”

“I still think your people like to travel just to travel, same as us. The lure of the unknown.”

“Ha! Nonsense.” Because he’d been honest with me, I asked, “Why did you trade for me and not Ally?”

He averted his eyes. “Ally is Peary’s girl. I would never trade for her.” Then hesitantly, “I wanted you, Billy Bah.”

“But Ally is prettier,” I said. “Her teeth are perfect. She has a small nose.”

“Stop talking about Ally. You can speak better English. You’re smart. When I saw you with your hair combed out—you’re lovely!”

Hair! Why did white men value it? Long hair was a nuisance, something to get out of the way. But I smiled and moved closer.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” Duncan said. “I would never hurt you.” Then he pressed his lips against mine. I drew back.

“No! Kiss me on the nose, never on the lips.”

“Why?”

“Our people don’t do that,” I said. “We don’t like it.”

From the shy way he looked at me, it seemed he’d never seen a woman before. This thought made me laugh out loud.

He was a quick learner. He was older than me by a few seasons but seemed so much younger. When I touched him in return, he looked away, embarrassed by his desire. Later, he rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes,
peaceful, as if taking in sunlight. “This is the best day of my life.”

We left the bunk early the next morning, while the men still snored. He invited me to drink tea with him in the galley. Instead, I twisted my hair into a topknot and returned to the forward saloon, where the hunters soon woke to tend the dogs on deck and, because the
Windward
traveled so slowly, to hunt seals on the ice floes. My husband and I did not speak of the trade.

But something important had happened. I felt changed, happy even. According to custom, I was not free to go to a man unless I was traded by my husband. At the same time, if I showed Duncan which supplies to offer Angulluk, the trade was as good as done. A plan began to take shape in my mind.

And so Duncan arranged to have me for the remainder of the voyage. Our passage on the icy sound lasted eight days. It was the time of year when the sun never sets, so every day felt wonderfully, endlessly long and gave us the light we missed in other seasons.

Each night, Duncan asked questions. One was “Do you miss America?”

“Sometimes. I wish I could see trees again.”

And as for him, a few weeks after arriving in Ellesmere Land, the
Windward
would set sail for America, and all the while, he said, he’d be thinking of the Arctic, and of me. “We have something in common. We’re not completely happy in our own land or with our own people. We’re restless because we know there’s something more.”

Maybe he was right. I was
pivviit akornganni
, between two places, and didn’t know where I belonged. Duncan’s stories helped me to recall America’s bright colors, loud sounds, and endless variety of things to hear, to taste, touch, and smell. But each morning, I’d shift back into my own landscape.

On the ice floes with Ally, we skinned and cleaned the
seals our husbands caught. We slit the seal through the length of its belly, first one side, then the other, and then cut away the skin and fat in one large piece. The blubber and tasty, solid meat we’d keep for ourselves. “Here, Eqariusaq, you can have the tongue,” Angulluk would say, because he knew I liked it best. His favorite part was the tender flipper. Ally and I scooped out the steaming, warm entrails, and back on deck, we tossed them to the barking dogs. Even though we were on the rolling ocean, and I was lying with a white man, this part of my life hadn’t changed.

Marie often helped Ally and me as we scraped, stretched, and folded the skins for later use. We had seal pelts with us that had already been cured and dried, and these we cut into strips to sew mittens for ourselves and the hunters.

While we worked, Marie asked questions like “Aren’t you too young to be married?”

“Here we must grow up faster,” I said. “Boys need to hunt, or else we don’t have enough food. And our people don’t seem to live as long as yours. Or grow as tall.” I kept waiting for her to ask about Duncan, but she didn’t. I also wondered whether she’d realized that Sammy was her brother. I’d never tell; it wasn’t my place.

Was Duncan right, that I was restless around my own people? The more he talked of America, the more I remembered about it. Sometimes I even wished to see America again, despite all the pain it had caused me.

On the eighth morning, the
Windward
sailed through a narrow, high-walled passage of ice. The cold wind roared through the channel as those who had to be on deck held on for their lives. Low dark cliffs loomed ahead and the sky shone misty gray, as if it might snow. The ship pushed past small ice floes and swerved around a shoal of jagged black rocks. The sailors were tense handling the ship, and we waited with nervous excitement, until the sea opened at last to a pebbly coastline protected by dozens of tiny islands. We’d arrived in Musk Ox Land, at the cove the
qallunaat
called Payer Harbor.

Everyone came on deck. Marie and I took turns looking through her mother’s field glasses. To the east, tents and igloos sat on the lee of a small cliff above the beach. Though most hunters visited Musk Ox Land for short periods only, some of our people had long ago stayed on and formed their own community. Their tiny village blended with the gray-black shore and brown snow-covered hills. Misty clouds moved and parted, revealing jagged, snow-covered peaks that rose behind the hills.

“Goodness,” Mitti Peary said to me and Marie. “I thought we’d never arrive.” Dark circles surrounded her eyes.

I spotted some figures in light-colored furs. “Marie! See the people?”

“Do you think Daddy will be wearing a white fur coat?”

“Probably gray,” I answered. “His summer sealskin.”

“White,” Marie said. “He has a polar bear coat!”

“Yes.” Ally had made Peary’s fine
kapatak
.

“Let me have the glasses.” Mitti Peary’s mouth was thin. None of the people on the beach was tall enough to be Peary or one of his men.

Marie did a little dance. “Today is the day I see Dad!”

I hoped so.

With the engines off, we glided toward the rocky shoals and land. Captain Bartlett lowered the ship’s anchor. Everyone started talking, and the dogs began to bark.

Mitti Peary motioned to the captain and straightened her feathered hat. “I want to be the first on shore. Why don’t you and I go together, Captain? Then we can come back and report to the others.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Mrs. Peary. I’d rather you waited.”

“I want to go!” Marie begged. “Take me!”

Mitti Peary held her finger over her mouth. “Shush, Marie.”

The captain and Mitti Peary were worried. Did they wonder if Peary was alive?

“Let me come to shore, Captain,” I said. “I can translate for you.”

“Ah,” he said. “Thank you, Billy Bah.” Mitti Peary sighed wearily, but said, “I appreciate your help, Billy Bah.”

As the sailors readied the rowboat, snow flurries
swirled. Too late I realized that I didn’t have my mittens, and there wasn’t time to look for them. The wind rocked the rowboat the sailors lowered, but I refused to be afraid. Soon enough we reached the water.

Snow blew on my face as I put on my hood. It was the dry snow that sticks on the ground; winter would be coming early this year, and it might be cold living in our tents until we could build our igloos. But the Musk Ox people would help us if we needed anything. Smoke spiraled out of their roof openings, a welcome sight.

The rowboat scraped up on the shore. Villagers rushed toward me as I climbed out of the boat, and I recognized a few people from their hunting trips to Itta. Hunters from all over came for our birds, as we from Itta sought large game elsewhere.

A man wearing a shaggy musk ox coat came up to me. Since he was older, I spoke formally. “Our people from across the water have arrived.”

“You are welcome here.”

“The snow blows from the north,” I said. “It looks as if it will be cold, with more wind.”

“Well, I see! It may turn into a blizzard.”

We talked for a long time, observing the weather and giving our greetings and news of our villages. I pulled my numb hands up into my sleeves.

After a while, Captain Bartlett interrupted. “Ask them if they’ve seen Peary.”

Turning, I put up my hand. “When it is time.”

I explained to the elder how it was that our people came by ship. Then I asked, “Have you seen Peary?”

The man peered out from his hood. “He’s gone.”

Something in me sank. Peary was dead?

He said, “He left here a short time ago.”

I blew out a cloud of misted air in relief. I learned that Peary camped inland with several men in a huge building that the
qallunaat
had built years earlier. The previous winter there, Peary had his frostbitten toes amputated, and he recovered; now he managed to travel quite well. I translated for Captain Bartlett.

“Fort Conger.” Captain Bartlett brushed snow out of his beard. “I believe that’s a great distance from here.”

The elder invited the captain and me to come into his family’s igloo and warm ourselves. But we wanted to get back to the ship; the sky was darkening and the snow was turning to heavier flakes. My hands were numb. Most of all, I wanted to talk with Angulluk. He would know what our people should do next. Was it best to get off the
Windward
now and set up camp? Where would we place our tents?

The wind picked up strongly as Captain Bartlett struggled to row against the current. The cold wind stung my face. The captain grasped the ropes to attach the dory, and sailors above pulled us toward the deck, rocking in the fierce wind. Angulluk waited at the rail. I grabbed his hands and he lifted me on board. We rubbed noses. My hands were frozen, and his face felt cold against mine.

Marie called: “Billy Bah! Did you see Dad?”

I squeezed her warm hand tenderly as the captain spoke rapidly to Mitti Peary. I moved close and heard him say, “Your husband has gone inland to Greely’s old fort. My maps don’t show any details of the Ellesmere interior. Some of the Eskimos know where the fort is, but it would take days for them to get there with any messages. And now the harbor is crowding with ice. We will leave Lieutenant Peary his supplies—that is what we came to do. Then we depart tomorrow. Otherwise we could lose the ship.”

Marie pushed in. “Mother, we can’t!” She stamped her boot.

“Hush, Marie.” Mitti Peary’s voice was low and heavy. “We face a very serious situation. Right now, everyone has important work to do.”

Once more, Captain Bartlett called on me to translate. “The Eskimos are welcome to stay on board an additional night because of the snow. Or if you wish to leave now, my crew will help you.”

Angulluk held a council with the other young men, and then said to the captain in English, “We want to leave the ship now.”

“Good!” I said. When we’d left Itta, the ship had felt immense; now I was tired of being trapped on board, and of going back and forth to the sailors’ quarters, as enjoyable as my time with Duncan had been.

Soon, rowboats loaded with people and possessions
rocked on hooks toward the water. Dogs snarled and barked as the snow continued to fall.

For a while, I forgot about the Pearys as I helped Angulluk. With only four rowboats, it would take several trips to transport ten people, the dogs, and all our belongings. Ally and Piugaattoq went first because of their baby. Angulluk and I sat with others in the forward saloon.

My hands had almost no feeling. I rubbed them together.

“Look how red your hands are, silly woman.” Angulluk took them and rubbed them hard.

“That hurts!” My hands stung as sensations came back, but soon they felt better. I found my mittens in my bag. How good it was to slip my fingers into the soft, warming fur. From the nearby galley, I smelled canned meat frying for the
qallunaat
. I was hungry but pushed the thought of food out of my mind and settled into Angulluk’s arms.

As I was nearly asleep, the door swung open and Marie ran toward me.

Traces of tears streaked her cheeks. Breathless, she said, “The captain says we’ll be sailing tomorrow. If we don’t leave now, the ship may be caught in the ice.” She started crying. “We would leave without even seeing Dad. And I want to visit with you longer. Billy Bah, tell Captain Bartlett that we can’t go.”

“I’m sorry you cannot see your father.” Still, right now all I could think of was getting into our tent with our warm lamps, and falling asleep after a meal of juicy seal
meat. I didn’t even worry about how I’d eventually return to Itta.

“Will you talk to the captain, Billy Bah? Will you see if we can stay longer?”