Mitiarjuk Nappaaluk - Sanaaq - An Inuit Novel

He headed to one of his stone caches and tried to open it, but the stones were completely stuck together by the cold. He had to pry them apart before he could open the cache. In this way, he came across a food bag that had once contained oil and gamy meat, but it had not been full for a long while… It had been eaten into by voles and no longer contained any liquid at all. There was not even a drop of misiraq anymore, for the bag had been pierced by many holes. With a leather strap, Qalingu tied a slipknot around the end of the bag and tried to draw it towards himself by pulling with all his might.

“ Uuppaa! Uuppaa! ” he said while pulling. “It no longer contains any liquid at all. Yet it had been prepared for oil storage!”

He then began loading his sled for the trip home. He tied his load down and untangled the tuglines while shouting at the dogs, “ Au! Au! ” When he was done, he counted the tugline loops as he slipped each one over the nuvviti, to make sure none were missed… All were accounted for. “ Uit! Uit! ” he shouted to the dog team, to urge them forward and up the slope. He himself pulled on the nuvviti, for he had a heavy load of dog food — a load of gamy meat.

The people minding the igloo had almost no flame left. Qumaq remained on the sleeping platform with her boots off because it was so cold. Sanaaq was sewing. She was making boot socks. Ningiukuluk came to visit Sanaaq, who told her, “ Ai! Ningiukuluk ai! Sit down!”

“Yes!” said the other, complying. “I can no longer do anything because I’m an old woman. My feet are cold.” She talked non-stop, also speaking to Qumaq. “ Umm! ” but not as an mmm. .. of affection. “ Umm! My little girl ai! Let me tell you a story.”

“First have some tea,” said Sanaaq.

Ningiukuluk agreed and said, “Arnatuinnaq! Cool it off with some ice. It’s very hot!”

Ningiukuluk drank abundantly and began telling a story from the old times.

“A very long time ago, it’s said, there once was a man, an Inlander, who was alone, without even a dog, in a tiny snow house whose floor was covered with large trout he had caught with a hook and fishing line. During the time of the long winter nights, he was awakened one night by sounds of footsteps on the snow. Right away, his snow house seemed to be surrounded by a galloping noise, by creatures that had come without warning. The man began to think to himself, and to talk to himself, for he knew full well that they were wolves, and that there was no way for him to escape. ‘Let it be! Let them enter like humans! Let them eat some trout!’ And then, so it is told, they entered. The she-wolf had taken human form and pushed inward the snow block that plugged the doorway. She said, ‘Let’s enter like humans! Let’s eat some trout!’ During the night, the pack of human-looking wolves — the old male, who was with them and also his many offspring — ate trout. The she-wolf munched on trout all night long and told stories. This is what the she-wolf told the man, who had no fire. She often chased caribou, so she said, while her folks trailed far behind and only caught up after she had killed the animals whose tracks she had been following. She said she was the fastest one. When the wolves caught up to her and began to eat, the old male left her offspring with very little to eat. For that reason, she said, she was very angry with him, describing him — the one always last to arrive — as a selfish brute…. They ate trout during the night. They crunched away in the darkness. The Inuk began thinking once again, ‘Given that the wolves haven’t stopped eating, they’ll probably use up my supply of trout during the night.’ The she-wolf further recounted that, as soon as she had caught a caribou, she took out its tongue, which was delicious. The female that had taken human form and was a very good person again told her host, ‘Tomorrow you’ll follow our tracks!’ At that point, all the wolves left and no sooner had they gone out than they began to race away. When the Inuk awoke, at daybreak, the trout that had been eaten overnight were intact. He then remembered the she-wolf’s advice and followed the wolf pack. He walked a very long time, following the tracks until he saw before him two cadavers, one of a wolf and one of a caribou, lying side by side. They were the gifts of the she-wolf. The dead wolf was her old male, gnashed to death by his own female. She hated him because he left their offspring with so little to eat. The man felt grateful for the caribou and for the wolf…”

Ningiukuluk’s story was over. But Qumaq wanted more. “ Aalaalaala! ” she hummed. “Grandmother ai! More!”

“It’s over for now because I’ll be going home!” answered Ningiukuluk.

“Do you have tea at home?” asked Sanaaq.

Ningiukuluk indicated a “No” by grimacing and raising her nostrils. She said, “We get by, thanks to gifts. Just this morning we breakfasted on food from others.”

“ Suvakkualuk! ” said Sanaaq.

She then prepared some tea leaves to offer her, wrapped in a small piece of cloth. She tied them up with a leftover bit of sinew and said, “Take this! Here’s something to make tea with!”

Ningiukuluk stood up and said, “Yes! My back really aches. Where are my mittens?”

“Grandmother! There they are, up there, on the drying rack!” said Qumaq.

Ningiukuluk left.

As night fell, Arnatuinnaq played a guessing game on the ice window, as Qumaq looked on. If enough marks were made, it meant that visitors would arrive… She played aakut-tuasi by scratching the frost on the ice window, with the aim of making the right number of marks. She said, “ Aakut-tuasi nikut-tuasi the big wolf that I meet says ai! Yes!”

This is what the marks looked like:

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

It was now the height of winter. Qalingu had come back and was busy putting away the harnesses, his load, and his sled. He had removed the harnesses from the dogs and was starting to coil up their tuglines. His dogs were very warm but covered with frost. They were nosing around in the refuse heap by scraping the ground with their feet. Arnatuinnaq went out just then and said, “ Ai! Pack of no-good mutts!”

She coiled up the tuglines, after Qalingu had unravelled them. He then took the dog food in by rolling the meat bag and the blubber into the igloo. Qalingu cautioned, “ Uuppaa! Uuppaa! Irq! Qumaq! Make sure you don’t get clobbered by the meat bag!”

“I won’t! I’m in no danger,” replied Qumaq.

“Step aside a bit,” said Qalingu. “This big thing might hurt you!”

“Really, I’m in no danger!” she asserted.

But, always wanting to have the last word, she was hit by the bag. She wailed, “ A! Aataata! ” Feeling greatly distressed, she began to cry, because she had really been clobbered.

Qalingu said, “Listen! Sounds like she was bowled over.”

Sanaaq heard something and said, “Listen! But what’s with her?”

She seemed to lose all self-control because her child had been hurt. She was panic-stricken because her daughter’s feet had been run over — her daughter who had been thinking, just a short while ago, that there was no danger. Sanaaq cried out, “Qumaq will probably die. She’s just been hit by Qalingu!”

She seemed to share her wounded child’s pain, even though it had not been caused on purpose. But there was nothing wrong with Qumaq’s feet. Sanaaq removed her footwear and examined them.

“Let me see! Qumaq! Let me take your boots off!”

Qalingu looked and said, “Didn’t I tell her to make sure she didn’t get clobbered?”