Excerpt
The Inuksuit too had a pattern: they were predominantly
built along the rivers and the seashore. The farther inland they
went, the smaller the Inuksuit; although no matter how small they were,
from a distance they all appeared immense.
In some places, boulders that weighed many tons had been lifted off
the ground and placed on a tripod of smaller stones. Inuksuit were then
built on top of the boulder. When Ken asked who had created them, the
old woman said, the Tunit – who were giants with children’s minds that
had lived on the land a very long time ago – made them. This was before
the time of the Inuit and before the time of the Dorset – who had also
preceded the Inuit.
Was the woman’s story true? Perhaps. The Inuit didn’t use the word
“no” or the phrase “I don’t know.” Ken had no better explanation – yet,
without at least the technology of the pyramid builders there could be no
way to erect something so massive.
As they continued to move east, they entered their own territory.
Through the most subtle hints and innuendos Ken realized that the old
woman had plans for him. He was a young person – a Kabluna perhaps
– but a young man. John explained to Ken that although he was Kabluna
he also was becoming Inuk. To be Inuk is to live on the land in the way of
the Inuit. Colour or race didn’t matter. It was a spirit and an attitude that
made you one of the people.
As they travelled, the sun began to dip briefly below the land and the
world fell into a short twilight. Often, when the sun had just disappeared,
a green flash would explode across the horizon – an intense band that
wrapped itself around the sky and feathered out into the stars. Sometimes,
in that brief period of semi-darkness, Ken would sit on the tundra
and gaze out at the ribbon of land on the horizon, and as he looked, the
horizon would curl up and up around him and form a bowl, with the sky
hovering above. The Arctic was a land of mirages, dreams, visions, and
possibilities. When the sun set, it rose again only inches from the same
spot where it had disappeared. East and west had no meaning – they were
simply directions that Europeans had drawn on a map – and maps meant
nothing here.
One day, John Asked Ken why he was here. Once again, Ken recited the
story of the tales Fransisco had told him as a child and how they had led
him here.
“But, what is it you want?” John asked.
“I want to go everywhere,” Ken replied. “I want to see everything. I
want to know everything.”
“Where is everywhere? Where is everything?” John asked.
Ken pointed to a small rise. “I want to go over there.”
“There is no over there,” John said.
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