Excerpt
“More? What do you propose to do – start a revolution? And how do
you propose to pay for all this?”
“With money,” Ken said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a
wad of bills. “How much?”
The storekeeper opened a ledger and painstakingly detailed every dollar,
penny, and inventory number. Ken peeled off the bills, handed them
to the man, and placed the items in his backpack.
Back at camp Ken distributed the tobacco, paper, tea, flour, and other
goods. From the bottom of the pack he pulled out four boxes of .22 extra
long shells and presented them to the hunter. At that moment, he sensed
a shift.
A couple of days later they struck camp, packed their belongings into
the canoe, and motored to the mouth of the river, where it flowed into
the Northwest Passage. From there they headed east. Several hours later
they stopped where about 15 people were camped. While they set up their
tents, Ken heard the word Kabluna spoken several times.
“What does this word ‘Kabluna’ mean?” Ken asked his friend.
“It means white man.”
“So I am a Kabluna.”
“Yes and if there were two, they would be Kablunat.” Then he chuckled.
“You think something is funny?”
“Yes. You know what the word really means? It means ‘eyebrows over
belly button’.”
“Huh?”
“White man is hairy, noisy, rude, always in a hurry, falling over, nothing
but trouble.”
Ken laughed, thinking how wise he had been to go into this world quietly.
When the hunter picked up his rifle and left the camp, Ken followed,
crossing the tundra until they came to a stream flowing out of a shallow
lake. There they sat and waited. After what seemed like hours the hunter
tensed. Ken scanned the horizon and noticed an almost indiscernible
movement – tiny specks that slowly resolved themselves into a small herd
of caribou moving toward them. When they were within twenty yards
the man lifted the .22, aimed, and shot. Five explosions followed in rapid
succession and five caribou fell, each with blood pouring out of a small,
lethal hole behind its ear.
The man laid down his rifle, took his knife out of his pocket, and smoothly
slit their throats, while Ken pulled their heads down to spill the blood.
Back at the camp, the others converged on the carcasses, gutting, cleaning,
and skinning the animals expertly, taking care to waste nothing.
The old woman showed Ken how to take a piece of liver, place it in his
mouth and cut it off with an ulu. He swallowed appreciatively while the
old woman nodded approval.
Libros Libertad 