One day during the Moon of the Flowering Time of Plants‚ around midsummer‚ Toozak was in his kayak off the shores of his village when he spotted a Yankee whaling ship on the ocean. Not only were its sails down despite the wind‚ but it was idle. That seemed unusual. He watched it.
A small white-and-blue whaleboat was lowered over its side onto the water. It rowed toward him and pulled up alongside his kayak. A Yankee leaned over the side of the boat and dangled a string of handsome blue beads before Toozak. Toozak had never been so close to a paleface seaman before.
“These are for you‚” a translator said in Yup’ik. “The Yankee wants you to have them.”
“Aahzah‚” Toozak exclaimed‚ he hesitated. They were very nice beads and very valuable. Toozak could trade them for anything from cooking pots to knives—even guns. He took them.
The interpreter looked at Toozak with distaste. “You are only a seal hunter‚” he said.
“I am a good hunter‚” proclaimed Toozak. “I bring food to my village”
“Then you have no whales to hunt? They do not think you are worthy?” The interpreter mocked their ancient customs.
“We hunt whales‚” Toozak boasted‚ taking the bait. “We have many whales in the sound!” He gestured unconsciously with his arm‚ indicating a beautiful cove to the east. “But we only take what we need.” He glared at the man.
The interpreter nodded‚ then tossed him a bag of tobacco. The Yankee whalers rowed back toward their ship.
Pleased with the beads and tobacco‚ Toozak paddled back toward his village. After beaching his kayak‚ he skinned and cut up the seal he had caught‚ and looked back at the ship. The white-and-blue whaleboat had not gone back to its mother ship but was rowing toward the whales in the sound.
And suddenly he knew what he had done.
“The whales!” he cried aloud. “What have I done?”
Toozak watched the whaleboat disappear around a point. A muffled explosion followed‚ then another and another. He trembled. Toozak had committed the worst of all crimes . . . he had led foreign men to the Eskimos’ beloved whales‚ where they would kill them for money. He hung his head in shame.
He turned his kayak and headed toward home to ask his father what he should do. When he reached the beach hours later‚ he met Shaman Kumaginya‚ the village spirit man. He would certainly know.
“Shaman‚” he cried‚ “I have done a terrible thing. I told the Yankees where whales are. I am certain they have killed them.”
The shaman frowned.
“The Whale Spirits will bring bad fortune to you‚” he said. “You have upset them.”
Toozak bit his lip.
“I saw a whale being born when I was a boy‚” he said. “That puts me in high standing with the spirits‚ doesn’t it?”
“It helps‚” Shaman Kumaginya said‚ eyeing Toozak’s beautiful seal. “But perhaps it made you too proud. You were foolish.
“Come home with me and I will make a song to the spirits. They will help us know what you should do.”
Toozak was very grateful. Shaman Kumaginya relieved him of his seal at his door and placed it on his meat rack away from the dogs. Toozak wanted to say that his father was waiting for Toozak to bring it to him‚ but he was afraid to speak. He entered the summer house. When his eyes adjusted to the low light‚ he saw that the walls were walrus skins. Black-and-white weasel tails decorated them. Overhead was a dome of sealskins‚ held up like an umbrella by willow limbs. A soot-rimmed smoke hole was in the center of the dome.
Toozak felt spirits everywhere. Shaman Kumaginya lit the stone seal-oil lamp on a sculpted plate from China. He set it on a tripod that stood under the smoke hole. On the stone he placed tinder moss and lit it. He chanted eerily and went into a deep trance.
Toozak trembled‚ for he knew the spirits were coming into this abode and that they could be vengeful. He had done a great wrong. If the spirits had sent a polar bear to maul his uncle for a very small misdemeanor‚ what would they do to him?
“The spirits are angry‚” the shaman finally said when he opened his eyes. “The spirits are very angry.” Fear filled the room. The shaman’s face was stern.
“They say you are cursed‚” the shaman said in an eerie voice.
“But I saw a whale being born‚” Toozak rasped in fear. “That makes me special.”
Shaman Kumaginya threw reindeer moss on the fire and silvery oxytrope‚ a flower that grows only where there were no ice sheets during the Ice Age. It was magic. It could survive glaciers.
The burning mosses glowed and smoke filled the room. Then‚ lifting his arms to the ceiling‚ the shaman closed his eyes for many minutes. This gave Toozak time to look nervously for an escape from a situation that now seemed dangerous. The shaman had set several stone dishes on the floor with moss wicks burning in seal oil. He could knock them over and escape when the shaman righted them. But they might start a fire. He thought better of that idea. Some skins had been stacked at the foot of the walls—seats for guests and ghosts. They blocked his escape route under the taut walrus-skin walls. A pile of white polar-bear skins on the left of the doorway was the shaman’s bed. He couldn’t get out that way. There were no openings to slide through anywhere. Toozak felt the spirits inhabiting every wall and emanating from every fur.
He looked back at Shaman Kumaginya. He was still chanting with his eyes closed. His long hair fell down to his caribou calf shirt of gleaming skin. Beads and polar-bear claws hung around his neck. His face‚ marked with purple tattoos‚ seemed possessed by spirits. Toozak grew more afraid.
“To witness the birth of a whale‚” the shaman finally chanted‚ “brings the Good Spirits to you. But that is not good enough to overcome the evil of delivering the whales to the Yankees.
“You will be cursed‚ but because you saw a whale born‚ you will be spared a bit. The curse is that you must protect that whale whose birth you witnessed as long as he lives.”
“How long does a whale live?” Toozak asked in a low voice.
“As long as the moon.”
Toozak thought about that.
“How do I protect a whale‚ Shaman Kumaginya? I can’t stay with him all the time.”
“Eii‚ that is for you to find out.” The shaman rubbed his hands together. “You have done a terrible thing.”
“I know‚ I know.” Toozak bent his head. “But I’m a seal hunter and I do not know how to protect a whale.”
“Learn‚” the older man said.
Toozak’s hands grew cold. His mind was racing.
The shaman saw his misery and added‚ “If a whale saves a Toozak‚ your family will be free of the curse.”
“How can a whale save anybody?” Toozak asked in confusion.
“It is said that an ancient great whale hunter lives to the north. You must learn from him‚” the shaman replied. “Now leave our village. Take the curse with you.”
“Where will I go?”
“To the north. Follow your whale. Protect him.”
“Then I will find the ancient whale hunter. But‚ how will he help me protect Siku?” Toozak said.
The shaman looked closely at Toozak. “Eskimos love the whale best. Whales give them food‚ shelter‚ utensils‚ life. Whale hunters know more about the whales than anyone. And‚ the whales know them‚ too. That is how a whale knows when to give himself. Go. Learn.”
Shaman Kumaginya had one more thing to say.
“The whale may live longer than you. It is said that they live two human lifetimes.” The rising smoke obscured him for a moment. “Give the name Toozak to your firstborn. Tell him to protect and respect the whale. His life might not be long enough either‚ so he must name his son Toozak. And the next generation and the next must be named Toozak‚ until the whale dies or saves a Toozak.”
Shaman Kumaginya threw
some more reindeer moss on the fire. In the smoke that now arose around them‚ he took down his dance drum. He beat two deep notes.
“Aye‚ ya‚ ya‚ aye‚ aye. You betrayed the whales‚” he chanted‚ then stepped into the thick smoke and became‚ to Toozak’s eyes‚ only a voice and a drumbeat.
Toozak was terrified.
Shaman Kumaginya paused and said, “The spirits say if you can lift the stones in the Circle of Stones in the village‚ the curse will disappear.”
“I am strong‚” Toozak whispered.
“Go now‚” Toozak heard the shaman’s wavering voice say.
Toozak put his hands over his ears and ran toward the door. I have seen you born‚ Siku‚ he said to himself. I have looked into your human-like eyes. We are brothers. You are my whale. I will protect you as long as I live even if I can’t break the curse! Toozak shuddered‚ the shaman’s words still ringing in his ears. “Now leave our village. Take the curse with you.”
Toozak ran right to the center of the village. There‚ thirty stones were arranged in a circle. They had been placed in this spot for the hunters to pick up every day to make them strong.
I must pick up all of them‚ even the heavy one in the middle. Toozak gritted his teeth.
Smoke was rising from the holes that had been cut into the homes of skin and driftwood much like the shaman’s. The townsfolk were preparing food. Toozak was not thinking of eating. He stepped into the ring of stones and lifted one‚ then the next. At number twenty he fell to his knees. He tried again, straining every muscle and tendon.
“I can’t‚” he said‚ and walked slowly home‚ his muscles trembling with exhaustion. Once he was home‚ he told his father and mother what he had done.
“I showed Yankee whalers where some whales were feeding‚” he said. “They killed them. This was a terrible thing to do‚ and because of it‚ the shaman says I must leave the village and learn from an ancient hunter how to protect Siku.”
His parents held their son.
A family was leaving the island on the difficult crossing to the Siberian mainland in their skin boat. They had room for Toozak‚ his dogs and gear‚ all the things that he needed for his journey. His parents were distressed at his leaving‚ but they agreed that the shaman must be right and so they helped Toozak get ready. They put dog packs on the two dogs‚ named Woof and Lik. Toozak filled and strapped onto one pack a bow‚ some arrows‚ a seal hook‚ fire tools‚ a knife‚ a net‚ and a sleeping fur. He also brought his harpoon‚ his ice chisel‚ and his lance. With these tools he could survive anywhere in the Arctic.
Then Toozak went to his father’s ice cellar‚ which had been dug into the frozen soil. He climbed down the ladder to the bottom of the big‚ icy room and brought up some frozen fish for himself‚ his dogs‚ and other travelers. He was sorry he would not be able to go fishing and replace what he had taken from his parents. His mother helped him fill the other pack with fish and dried food.
He was ready to leave. As he was tying a towline to his kayak from the back of the boat‚ his sister ran out of their home. She handed him an exquisite sable that their father had gotten in a trade with Siberian Eskimos for a polar-bear skin. He had given the sable to her. Now she presented it to Toozak and hugged him closely.
“Its spirit will go with you‚” she whispered. “It will make you smart and skilled like the sable.”
Toozak hugged her long and hard. His parents stepped forward to embrace their son. They knew they might never see him again. They all broke down in tears and sobbed. Wiping the tears from his face‚ Toozak stepped into the skin boat. His journey had begun.
Once I am on the Siberian mainland‚ I will paddle north to Naukan‚ staying near shore‚ he thought. The dogs will tow me when it is possible; otherwise they will run along the shore and follow me. Sometimes they will ride with me in the kayak. There I will cross to the Diomedes and on to the Inupiat nations to the east in Alaska. I’ll find a village and wait for the sea to freeze. I will make a sled of willows and driftwood to use on the ice and snow.
Eventually I will go on to Tikigaq [TEE-key-gak] (the village that would one day be called Point Hope). If I can get there before the sea ice melts and the Yankee whalers arrive‚ I will warn Siku. I will protect him as the shaman has willed.
But how did someone warn a whale away? He would have to ask the elders and hunters.
Suddenly he smiled. Years ago‚ when he was at one of the annual trade fairs at Sisualiq [SIS-ou-ah-lik] “place that has begula whales‚” he had met a lovely girl named Qutuuq [KOO-took]. She lived in Tikigaq. It was impossibly far from his village‚ but it was near to where he was going now. He had thought he might never see her again.
For a moment he imagined he would find her‚ and maybe he would marry her‚ and the two of them could protect Siku together.
He turned his thoughts to Tikigaq.
“Thank you‚ Siku‚ because of you I have hope.”
And for the first time since he had revealed to the Yankees where the whales were hiding‚ his spirit lifted.
Sailing through the ice floes and rough seas in the big skin boat‚ Toozak and the family made their way slowly to Unazik‚ on the Russian mainland. They lived on seal and walrus that they harpooned among the ice floes during their three-day journey. They were lucky there were no storms to slow their progress. The remarkable skin boat rode the ocean swells perfectly‚ like the graceful walrus it was made of. Thousands of seabirds flew overhead‚ ice floes freckled the immense sea. Toozak sat in the bow immersed in the beauty‚ power‚ and excitement of the journey.
When they arrived at the mainland‚ Toozak paid the family with half the dried fish he had brought with him. He found his relatives in Unazik‚ and they celebrated his visit for several days. The Saint Lawrence Yup’ik were closely connected to the Siberian Yup’ik families along the Russian coast. They traded back and forth and often married.
Finally it was time to head north up the coast with his two dogs‚ his kayak‚ and all his gear. He moved north‚ sometimes paddling‚ sometimes being towed by Lik and Woof along the beach‚ and sometimes‚ when the seas were rough‚ dragging his kayak and gear.
His progress was slow but the scenery was new and exciting with coastal mountains‚ grizzly bears‚ and grasses that were turning gold. He met many Siberian Yup’ik and Chukchi families along the coast. He saw their dramatic-looking monuments‚ made of giant whalebones standing against the sky—a testament to their enduring cultures. Often‚ he would be invited to hunt with them‚ contributing his skill in exchange for a warm‚ dry place to sleep. He also learned a great deal about whales and whaling from hunters with great knowledge.
At Nunyamo‚ he made preparations for the dangerous crossing to the Diomede Islands and on to the North American continent. The Diomedes were the hub of trade between Asia and North America. The negotiations could be tense‚ as Toozak was bargaining with the wealthiest and most powerful Eskimos. They did not tolerate those who might interfere with their commerce.
Toozak approached a village elder.
“May I travel with you in your umiaq to the Diomedes?” he asked respectfully. Most traders spoke many languages‚ and he hoped he would be understood.
“What can you offer in return?” the elder replied in Yup’ik.
“I have very little‚” Toozak replied‚ “but I am a good hunter and hard worker.”
The elder‚ dressed in immaculate skins‚ grumbled and then nodded toward the huge umiaq that was being loaded. Toozak sighed with relief. A ride in the traders’ large umiaq with many others would be much safer than trying to make the dangerous crossing himself in his small kayak with two dogs.
They traveled through the swift currents to the remarkable Big Diomede Island. Here was a whole village and society perched on near-vertical cliffs. Seabirds swirled‚ seals were numerous. It was a magical place.
/> They unloaded their trade goods and Toozak worked hard carrying the amazing variety of goods up the steep hills to the dwellings.
The next day‚ they reloaded the skin boat with more trade goods and continued across the treacherous currents of the Bering Strait. Toozak was tired and inwardly fretting about the trip that lay ahead.
Sea life was everywhere. The skin boat rose and surfed the huge waves. A ringed seal surfaced near the boat‚ stared‚ and dove in an instant. Then he heard the unmistakable whoosh of a bowhead’s blow. He suddenly stood up and touched his cheek. Just as he did so‚ one of the whales rolled—and to his astonishment there it was . . . the mark of the Eskimo dancer on its chin.
“Siku‚ I will help you‚” Toozak whispered.
The whale dove and was gone‚ headed south.
They continued on to the village of Wales on the Alaskan coast. Villagers came out and pulled the boat ashore. It had been an incredible trip‚ and Toozak thanked the traders profusely for their help. He was in a new land‚ with new people and the prospect of a new life.
He traveled northeast up the coast of the peninsula toward the village of Qigiqtag [Ke-GIK-tuk‚ later known as Shishmaref]‚ where he met with the townsfolk and exchanged stories of his travels.
Toozak put his kayak in the water at the village beach. After harnessing the boisterous dogs and attaching them to a long line‚ he threw his packs in the kayak and got in. Singing happily‚ he navigated with the rudder‚ with the dogs‚ tails high‚ towing him along a chain of barrier islands north of the village. Every mile‚ every beach‚ put distance between Toozak and that terrifying shaman and brought him closer to his lovely friend. He knew that he would protect Siku‚ somehow.
“Siku‚ Siku‚
I will protect you.
I will protect you.
My loving whale‚
I will protect you.”
His feelings for Siku were warm. Now Siku was Toozak’s whale. Toozak had seen him being born. He would protect him. He didn’t know exactly how‚ but he would. He would find the ancient whale hunter. This whale hunter would help him protect Siku. And maybe then Toozak would know what to do. His heart pounded. He and Siku were brothers.