The Curse of the Viking Grave by Farley Mowat Page A

skeleton of some gigantic fish.
    â€œKayak,” Peetyuk explained as he noticed Awasin’s interest. “When we come Innuit Ku, Kakut get deer hides and cover kayak. Then float very good.”
    A shout from Kakut drew everyone’s attention. His big sled now stood ready to go and one by one the other Eskimo men drove their sleds over to join him. Old women and young children sat on top of the loads, but the younger women and older children (packing bundles on their backs) prepared to walk alongside. Some of them had hung pack-saddles on half-grown dogs which were still too young to work in the sled teams. Some young dogs were towing miniature travois consisting of two long poles stretching out behind, on which a small platform bearinga light load had been lashed. Five or six even younger dogs—hardly more than puppies—frolicked free amongst the sleds and people.
    It was a gay scene, but with a wild and ancient look about it. The mob of fur-clad people, the howling dogs, the great sweep of rolling tundra under a white spring sky were things which had not changed through many centuries, perhaps not for many millennia.
    The boys and Angeline, with their teams, joined Kakut. The old man gave the signal to move off by cracking an immensely long whip over his dogs’ heads. In a moment the whole cavalcade was moving.
    Progress was slow, for there was already much open ground. The sleds moved at the pace of the walking women and children; but no one seemed concerned. There was much joking back and forth, and when one of the younger men, attempting to show off his dog-driving skill, incautiously drove over a piece of bad ice and plunged through to his neck, the whole assemblage stopped to howl and rock with merriment. It was laughter in which the victim himself was quick to join, once he had scrambled back onto firm ice and changed into dry clothing.
    The destination was only eight miles away, but it was nearly dusk before the caravan reached Kakut Lake and came in sight of the tents of a camp. Everyone in this new camp was out on the ice to greet the visitors. Once more Jamie, Awasin and Angeline had to go through the welcoming ceremony, including another gigantic meal, which this time was served in the tent of Epeetna, Peetyuk’s mother.
    Epeetna was still a young woman and good-looking, if somewhat plump. She lived with her married brother Ohoto—Peetyuk’s uncle—who was a powerfully built, stocky man in his mid-thirties. When Ohoto saw Peetyuk he caught him in a bear-hug, lifted him clean off the ground, and carried the red-head, yelling and kicking, up to his mother’s tent where Epeetna greeted her son with a rub of noses and much back-patting.
    Kakut’s group pitched no tents but simply moved in with friends in the new camp. This led to some crowding, since there were nearly forty men, women and children all told and only four tents. But no one seemed to mind, and there was another late party that night with the whole population crowded into a single tent. Despite their desire not to offend anyone, this was too much for Awasin, Jamie and Angeline and they managed to sneak away to their carioles, where they were preparing to get out their sleeping robes when Peetyuk and Ohoto descended on them.
    â€œWhat you do?” Peetyuk cried indignantly. “My mother think you not like. Go very sad. All Eskimos go sad. Come back to tent, eh?”
    Awasin and Jamie exchanged glances. Jamie shrugged. “Nothing else for it, chum,” he whispered. Then: “We just came down to get our robes, Peetyuk. We were coming right back.”
    Peetyuk snorted. “Robes! No need robes. Plenty people on sleeping bench, keep everybody warm!”
    â€œUh-huh; that’s what I was afraid of,” Jamie muttered, but Peetyuk did not hear him.
    It was a night Jamie long remembered. There were ninepeople on the sleeping ledge. The snores, grunts, groans and whistles would have done