Angajorqaq pulled at her hand, hurried her toward one of the black-domed tents. It was sealed shut and Kalaleq was unlacing the entrance. All of the bundles from the boat had been dumped beside it in the snow. Kalaleq pushed his way in and must have lit a fire that was already laid, for smoke quickly burst from the opening at the top. With the feel of solid ground beneath her feet Armun’s sickness from the voyage soon disappeared and she joined the others in dragging in the bundles and furs. It was all right. Everything was going to be all right. She was safe, Arnwheet and Harl were safe. They would all live to see the spring. With this thought she seized up the child, held him tightly to her as she sat down heavily on the heaped furs.

“Build the fire quickly,” Angajorqaq called out. “Hair-of-sunlight is tired, I can tell by looking at her. Hungry and cold. I will get food.”

“We must move this paukarut onto the ice,” Kalaleq said between puffs of breath to encourage the fire. “The bay is frozen, winter is really here.”

“Tomorrow. All will rest first.”

“We will do it tomorrow. The ice is warmer than the land now, the sea water below it will keep the cold away. And I will cut snow to keep out the wind. It will be warm and we will eat and have good fun.”

Thinking of this made him smile with pleasure and anticipation and he reached for Angajorqaq to have some fun now, but she slapped his hand away.

“No time,” she said. “Later. Eat first.”

“Yes—eat first! Hunger makes me weak.” He groaned in mock agony, but could not stop himself from smiling at the same time. It was going to be a good winter, a very, very good winter.

esseka>asak, elinaabele nefalaktus* tus’ilebtsan tus’toptsan. alaktus’tsan nindedei yilanènè.

YILANÈ APOTHEGM

When the wave breaks on the shore, small swimming things in it die, are eaten by the birds that fly. they are eaten by animals that run. Yilanè eat them all.

CHAPTER NINE