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time and watched them from a distance while he went about his business
of sketching. He learned to be a “quiet” Kabluna (white man). He came
to learn from the old woman who was the autonomous head of the family
unit, quiet white men were a rarity. It was a notable quality of this strange,
bearded, young man who appeared out of the tundra, and it became the basis
for what grew into an extraordinary friendship between Ken and the Inuk
Grandmother.
Winter was approaching and it became clear that the newcomer was not
equipped for the particular brand of cold that would soon extend across the
landscape. During their travels together, he had done his part in the ongoing
work of foraging for food, sharing what little he had, and voluntarily filling
in as an extra pair of hands. He’d developed a friendship with several of
the young men and proved to be adept at hunting and fishing, so it seemed
natural that he be outfitted with caribou parka and boots and brought into
the family tent.
Toward the end of that first winter the old woman became Ken’s
mentor. She indicated that he now belonged to her, and that was when he
began to call her Grandmother. For the next four years he travelled with the
family group and studied their ways. He learned that colour and race don’t
influence whether you are, or are not, Inuk—it is how you live on the land.
Essentially it is a sense of spirit and attitude that confirms you are one of the
people and it is a designation given, never assumed.
He heard of the Tunit, a race of peaceful giants who were said to have
come to the land long ago, before the Inuit and even before the Dorset
people who preceded the Inuit. The Tunit were believed to be responsible
for the early Inuksuit, which held sway over the landscape and served as a
combination of guardian and guidepost to places where fish or caribou were
abundant.
On behalf of the camp he purchased flour, lard and ammunition from
the well-stocked Hudson’s Bay store in Coppermine, where the Inuit were
not welcome. During the time of blizzards that made travelling impossible,
he learned to sew boots from caribou fur with a needle constructed from a
shattered bone drawn from a gull’s wing. And, halfway through their trek
he stood in awe on the shores of Baffin Island, the fifth largest island in the
world. He had at last reached the land that Francisco had told him of all
those years ago, and the wonder of it reduced him to his very elements.
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