The Pole (6 page)

There were also lots of dogs, tied to stakes in the ground, beside almost every building. Sometimes it was only a few dogs. Other times there were ten or more. Some of the dogs were just quietly sitting or lying down, but some were snarling or snapping or scrapping with each other, or barking greetings at us.The dogs
didn't
look friendly.

Commander Peary and the party stopped walking, and the men—at least a dozen of them—spread out in a circle around a small, smouldering fire. Everybody, with the exception of the Commander, sat down on the ground. Then Matt came forward and placed his bag on the ground by Peary.

Slowly, deliberately, Peary untied the bag. He reached in and pulled out … a metal pot? What was he doing with a pot? He held it over his head, like he was showing it off, and judging by the reaction of the Eskimos gathered around watching, it
had
impressed them. He placed the pot on the ground and reached into the bag again.This time he pulled out a knife—a long knife. He held it up, and the blade glittered as it caught the rays of the sun. There were more nods and smiles from the Eskimos.

It
did
look like a nice knife. He placed it on the ground beside the pot. Next he pulled out a long, metal spearhead. This time the reaction was very noticeable. There was a general nodding of heads, smiles, and excited conversations broke out among the Eskimos.

“These are from me!” Peary proclaimed loudly. “For those men who come with me on this trip!”

Matt stepped forward and yelled out some words. I couldn't understand what he was saying.They were strange, hard-sounding words … it had to be Eskimo he was talking.

“I have more presents for all the men, women, and children who come with us!” Peary said.

Matt spoke—again in Eskimo talk—and people reacted with nods and smiles.

It was obvious what was going on. Matt was translating what the Commander was saying. But why didn't Commander Peary just say it himself? Unless he couldn't speak their language, and Matt could.

“We will be going north,” Commander Peary said. “But not just north … we will be going so far north that there will only be one direction left to travel … south.”

Matt translated his words, and the Eskimos reacted. Some laughed, a few shook their heads, and a few—the younger men—actually stood up and nodded excitedly in agreement.

“You know that I know every Eskimo from Cape York to Etah,” Commander Peary said. “And of all those people, I have come to you, because I know the people of Etah are brave and strong, and that when others would turn back, they do not know fear.”

Matt repeated his words.The excitement of a few seconds ago was replaced by looks of calm confidence, as if they maybe wouldn't say such a thing themselves, but it was an obvious truth.

“Over the next two days I will talk to people and select those who will come with us on our expedition.Thank you.”

Once more Matt translated. I expected some sort of cheering or something. Instead, they slowly got to their feet and started to wander off, talking amongst themselves.

Peary walked over and put his arm around one of the Eskimos, and then the two of them walked off together, trailed by the four members of the expedition. The older Eskimo pulled aside a skin curtain that hung over the doorway to one of the stone homes and ushered the men inside. Then he followed, letting the curtain swing shut.

I looked over at Matt, who was putting the things back into the bag.

“Stay with me,” he said.

No argument from me. He wouldn't be leaving my sight, even if he tried!

CHAPTER SIX

AFTER MATT HAD FINISHED
putting away the gifts for the Eskimos, he walked over to the building that the Commander and the rest of the men had disappeared into. He stopped by the skin door, gently placed the bag against the wall, and turned to walk away.

“Aren't we going in too?” I said.

He shook his head. “Nothing worth seeing is going to be happening in there. Come, I'll show you around and introduce you to some of my friends.”

He started to walk and I fell in beside him.

“What
is
goin' to go on in there?” I asked.

“Sort of like a ceremony. The Commander is just going to exchange pleasantries with their leader— that older gentleman.”

“Does their leader speak English?” I asked. “Hardly any.”

“Shouldn't you be in there to translate, then?”

“Commander Peary will do fine.”

“Does he speak Eskimo?”

“Inuktitut is what it's called,” Matt explained. “Yes, he speaks some.”

“Then why did ya have to translate for 'im?”

“He speaks
some
. One or two words, mostly names of objects or orders.”

“But you speak it really well … right?”

“I don't know if
really well
would be right. I don't know the words for a lot of things, and they tell me I say some words funny.”

“But if you and the Commander have both been up here the same length of time, shouldn't he speak it as well as you do?” I asked.

“He's a very bright man,” Matt said, “so I'm sure he could learn more if he felt the need. It's just that he has enough command of the language to make his wishes known.”

“So why did
you
want to learn more?”

“You have a lot of questions,” Matt said.

“Sorry, sir,” I apologized, afraid that I had offended him.

“Don't apologize. I like that. Asking questions is how you learn about anything, and
why
I learned the language. How could I learn about these people and their lives if I couldn't speak their language?”

Three people—a man, woman, and child—came up to us, smiling, laughing. The man and Matt hugged. He then hugged the woman as well, and
finally picked up the child and tossed him playfully into the air.

As they talked, my attention was caught by the dogs, a dozen or more on leather leads pegged to the ground. They were beautiful animals. Long silver-and-black coats and blue eyes! The dogs had blue eyes! Some of them were curled up together, sleeping.Two were having a tug-of-war with a bone. One dog stood, straining at his lead, his tail wagging, staring right at me with those beautiful blue eyes. He was tied up by himself, off to the side, and was probably lonely. I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out a piece of biscuit. He'd like that. I edged over closer and extended my hand toward him and—

“Danny!” Matt screamed, and I spun around. “What are you doing?”

I showed him the little piece of biscuit. “I was just goin' to give the dog a little treat, that's all.”

“Toss it to him.”

I lobbed the biscuit to the dog and he grabbed it, his jaws snapping together loudly.

“If you want to keep those fingers, you'd better keep them away from the dogs.”

Instinctively I backed off a half-step, even though I was well out of reach.

“These aren't pets.”

“But he looks friendly,” I said, trying to defend myself.

“Some of them
are
friendly. Others aren't. You notice how that dog is tied off by itself?”

I nodded.

“It's probably not with the other dogs because it
isn't
so friendly. Sledge dogs can be unpredictable and wild. Come, I want you to meet these people.”

I walked back over to join Matt. He introduced me, telling them my name and saying theirs. The names were strange-sounding and I knew I'd never be able to remember them.

While I couldn't understand the words that they were speaking, one thing was easy to understand: Matt was genuinely liked by these people, and he seemed to like them back. He gave them each a second hug and then we walked away.

“Everybody is very friendly,” I said.

“Most hospitable people in the world. It feels good to be amongst them again. I've missed their kind souls. If you want, I could help teach you to speak Inuktitut.”

“Would you?”

“We can start right now. Here's your first word. Say
ai
.”

“Ai.”

“Good. Say it again.”

“Ai.”

Matt smiled. “Now say that to them,” he said, as two men came walking toward us.

“But … what does it mean?” I questioned.

“It means hello. Go ahead.”

I turned around and looked at the men who continued to walk toward us. I felt nervous but I had to try.
“Ai,”
I called out, and I waved, too, just in case I'd said it wrong.

They both burst into big smiles and waved and started talking excitedly. Of course I had no idea what they were talking about. Matt gave them both a pat on the back and they walked away.

“Do you see how happy they are when you make an effort to speak their language?”

“I was wondering,” I said. “I keep hearing people say something when they see you.”

He gave me a confused look.

“It sounds sort of like
maktak kabla
or something like that,” I said.

Matt's face lit up and he laughed. “You mean
maktak kabloona
.”

“That's it.What does that mean?”

He smiled. “It means black white man. They see me as being from away, a white man, but they can clearly see that I'm black.” He paused. “I'm impressed you could pick that out. You have a very good ear for languages, so I'm sure you'll learn to speak Inuktitut very quickly. And you'll have many people to help you.”

“How many Eskimos are coming with us?” I asked.

Matt shook his head. “Not sure. Could be forty.”

“Forty!” I exclaimed. “Why so many?”

“It will take that many men if our mission is going to be successful. Do you know about the Peary system?” I shook my head.

“It was created by the Commander. It involves the use of a number of different teams. Some teams lead, breaking trail, travelling light, while others follow, bringing supplies and caching them along the route. It takes a lot of men and a lot of dog teams.”

“Dogs? I didn't know we was bringin' dogs with us.”

“The Pole can't be reached without dogs,” Matt explained. “Earlier Arctic explorers didn't realize that.The Commander learned many things from the Native peoples—the use of dogs, dressing in skins, living off the land whenever possible, and the use of Eskimo sledges—they called them komatiks. That could be your second word in Inuktitut. Say
komatik
.”

“Komatik.”

“You'll be talking like an Eskimo in no time.You'll have plenty of time—the whole winter to learn.” Matt paused. “I was wondering, how old are you, Danny?”

“Fourteen.”

“That makes you two years older than I was when I left home.”

“You left when you were twelve?”That seemed so young.

“Not much choice. There really wasn't much to leave behind after my father died.”

I felt my heart rise up into my throat.

“What's wrong?” Matt asked.

“My father died when I was seven,” I said softly.

“His ship went down and the whole crew was lost.”

“What a tragedy. Your mother must have been devastated.”

I nodded. “She was. Don't think she ever was the same again.”

“Thank goodness you have your mother.”

“Had,” I said softly. “She died when I was the age you were when your father died.” I felt myself starting to tear up.This was silly … it was over two years ago.

Matt put a hand on my shoulder. “Danny,
my
mother died when I was seven. You and I are like twins—we went through the same experiences, in different places and at different times.That makes us more alike than anybody else would know.”

I looked up at Matt. His eyes had that sad, sorry, misty look that I was feeling.

“Hard stuff,” Matt said. “When things get difficult, I try to remember the words of Friedrich Nietzsche.”

“Is he a friend of yours?” I asked.

Matt smiled. “I guess he is, although I've only met him through his words and writing. He was a German philosopher. He said, ‘What does not destroy me,
makes me stronger.'” He paused. “You and I, Danny, we survived the deaths of our parents at a young age. It is tragic, but it has made us both who we are.We are survivors, and to survive we had to be strong.”

“Sometimes I don't feel so strong,” I said, my voice cracking over the last words.

He put both hands on my shoulders and looked me square in the eyes. “You
are
strong,” he said.

CHAPTER SEVEN

AUGUST

THE SMOKE STREAMED OUT
of the stacks as the engines worked hard to break through the layer of ice.The whole ship shuddered and for a split second was suspended in place before it crashed through and into open water. I shielded my eyes to try to follow the open lead—a little river of water cutting through the ice. It wasn't wide but it looked to extend for at least a mile or more. Good.

A few days' sailing north of Etah, the ocean ice had started to become almost a continuous sheet layering the ocean. The
Roosevelt
was strong and built to take on the ice, so the Captain had rammed his way through when it was thin enough. Other times the ice had rafted together and he'd had to move around it instead. We had shifted back and forth, like a drunken sailor, unable to move in a straight line. At times we'd been so firmly stuck in the ice that we
didn't move at all—we were locked in place. When that happened, the Captain had to back his way out and look for another way through.

I'd heard grumblings from some of the sailors that they thought we weren't going to be able to make it to Cape Sheridan. I didn't have any doubts. I knew that Captain Bartlett had done it before with this same ship, so why shouldn't he be able to do it again? If any man could do it, it was him. I figured if worst came to worst Captain Bartlett would climb out and walk along the ice, towing the boat behind him. I thought even the ice might be at least a little afraid of him and would get out of his way when he yelled. After all, there wasn't a man aboard, including Commander Peary, who didn't give the Captain a wide berth when he was angry about something.