“Wake up, Kyo, and we’ll be seal hunting by daylight.”
Kyo pulled his head under the warm covers and pretended he was asleep. George wasn’t fooled.
“I know you’re awake, Nephew. If the seals are as hard to find as I’m told, we’d better get going soon.” He slid his arms under the boy, blankets and all, and lifted him up. George walked to the door and threw it open, letting in a blast of cold air. He carried Kyo outside.
“What are you hiding from?” asked George. “It’s a beautiful day!”
Kyo pulled the covers back from his head and looked out. Stars shone brightly in the west, but faded in the pale gray southeastern sky. He giggled to be outside in his bedclothes. George held him firmly in his strong arms and began to swing him back and forth as if getting ready to throw him into the snow.
“One, two, three …”
“Wait!” yelled Kyo, laughing. “I’ll get up!” So George took him back into the house.
An hour later Kudlah and George left the house on the snowmobile, pulling Kyo behind them on the sledge with the cage. Kyo’s heart quickened as George steered toward the path to Tooky’s hole, but Kudlah guided him in a different direction.
George had noticed Kyo’s tracks leading to the hole.
“Those must be your small footprints,” he yelled back to the boy, slowing the machine so he could be heard. “Where do they lead?”
“To a fishing place,” answered Kyo. “But we don’t want to go there.”
“Is it a good fishing place?” asked George.
“Not a very good one,” Kyo replied.
Their route took them around the base of a long mountain ridge. There they left the snowmobile and walked out on the ice. George carried a rifle and Kudlah carried a harpoon like Kyo’s, only larger. Kyo wore a knapsack containing their lunch.
The settlement disappeared from view behind them. Kudlah told stories about the previous year’s seal hunts. By the time they stopped at a seal breathing hole, Kyo was hungry.
“Here we are,” said Kudlah. “This is a good place to wait for seals.” Kyo took a white cloth from inside the knapsack and unwrapped his lunch. George used a pick to widen the tiny hole. Kudlah went to look for others.
“I thought you wanted a live seal,” Kyo asked, eyeing the gun suspiciously.
“I do. My gun shoots darts that will put the seal to sleep. The animal wakes up unharmed several hours later.
“When one comes and we shoot it, I’ll hurry back to get the snowmobile and cage. We’ll put the seal in the cage, so when it wakes up it can’t get away.”
George put down the pick and took a small box out of his pocket. Inside were plastic darts, each sporting a sharp needle.
“These will put the seal to sleep. See how small the needle is? The seal won’t even feel it.”
Kyo reached for one, but his uncle grabbed his hand. “Oh, no you don’t.” George laughed. “I don’t want you to go to sleep!” He loaded the gun and put the box back in his pocket.
Kyo munched hungrily while George got chunks of snow for them to hide behind. Then they settled down away from the hole to wait. Kyo figured it would be a long wait, but he didn’t tell his uncle that. He felt certain that the seals would not come.
They lay behind the snow blinds all that day and the next. Not one seal poked its nose up through the hole. As they set out for the third day, Kudlah told them he would be going inland to try to intercept caribou.
“You have heard enough hunting stories to remind you how to hunt,” Kudlah told George.
Outwardly Kyo was calm, but inside he fretted. Had he made a mistake not to kill Tooky when he first saw her? Had he been wrong to tell the seal to stay away? He hoped that other game would cross his father’s path.
At the same time, he missed his seal friend. Would she come to visit him when his uncle left? What if he didn’t leave for many weeks?
George and Kyo sped across the snow and ice on the snowmobile. The wind whipped at Kyo’s face and blew his hood from his head. He automatically reached for the hood but stopped when he realized that his ears were not cold. The wind was getting warmer.
Kyo smiled and let the wind play with his ears and hair. With this warm wind and the sun staying longer in the sky, he thought happily, the ice would begin to break up. George couldn’t stay too much longer, Kyo knew. Soon it would be dangerous to hunt for seals on the ice.
And once the ice was gone, he realized, seals would be much harder to catch. George would have to postpone his hunt until the ice settled in again in the fall. Maybe he’d change his mind or forget about capturing a seal by then.
George stopped the machine. “It’s your turn to drive,” he said to his nephew.
“Really? You want me to drive?” Kyo was astounded. His uncle got off the seat so Kyo could slide forward. George showed him how to start the snowmobile, increase and decrease the speed, and steer.
“Don’t turn too sharply,” he warned the boy, “or we might land in the snow with the machine on top of us. And if you start feeling scared, you’ll know you’re going too fast.” George climbed on behind the boy, and they were off.
Kyo was thrilled as they flew over the snow, everything passing in a white blur. He tried zigzagging, drove up and down hills, and made a big circle, laughing hard all the way around. Then George tapped him on the shoulder and pointed toward their destination. Kyo steered the snowmobile toward it and drove as fast as he dared.
When he stopped the engine Kyo’s ears were ringing. He shook his head to clear them. George chuckled. “You get used to that after you’ve ridden one of these for a while.”
“It’s fun,” said Kyo, “but I don’t think I’d ever get used to the noise.”
“Which would you rather have, the speed of the snowmobile or the quiet of the dogsled?” George asked.
Kyo thought of the whisper of a sled pulled over the snow by panting dogs. “I like the quiet dogsled,” he answered, and George laughed again.
“What’s so funny?” Kyo felt hurt.
“I’m sorry, Kyo. Nothing’s funny. You made a good choice, and I’m laughing at myself for preferring the noise. While I’m here, maybe you can take me for a ride on the dogsled. I haven’t done that since I was a boy. But now let’s get to our hunting place.”
No seals appeared that day either. When Kyo got fidgety after lunch, he took out his knife and carving stone.
George heard Kyo’s knife scratching.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Letting the seal out,” murmured Kyo. George frowned at the boy hunched intently over his hands.
“Kyo, are you sure this is a good place for finding a seal?” asked George. “This is our third day here and we haven’t seen so much as a whisker.”
“This is a good place to be,” asserted Kyo, hoping his uncle wouldn’t ask him any more questions about seal hunting.
“Well, tomorrow I think we should find someplace new,” George said, pulling on his mustache. “In this spot we aren’t having much luck.”
Kyo couldn’t fall asleep that night. When he heard deep snores from his uncle’s bedroll on the floor across the room, Kyo slipped out of bed, went to the window, and parted the curtains.
The world outside was lit by an eerie silver glow. A big round disc of a moon hung in the sky. The snoring stopped, and Kyo heard rustling from George’s bed. Turning, he saw the moonlight shining on his uncle’s face.
Kyo quickly closed the curtains. The snoring resumed, and he put on his clothes as soundlessly as he could. Then he pulled on his boots and parka, eased the door open just enough for him to squeeze through, and found himself out in the nighttime glow.
He set out directly for Tooky’s hole in the ice. Halfway there he remembered that if she had not been using the hole, it would have closed up, and he had not brought the pick. Still, he hurried on to their meeting place.
The hole was blocked by new ice, just as Kyo had expected. His throat tightened when he saw
the frozen barrier. Sitting on the edge of the hole, he brought his heel down as hard as he could, but it bounced off the surface.
He leaned back, raising both feet high, and tried to smash the ice again. It didn’t even crack. He considered jumping on the ice to break it open, but he knew that if he succeeded he’d likely drown.
“I’m not a seal,” he said aloud. His words sounded small and lost in the strange night air. He lay on his belly and rubbed the surface of the ice with his mitten like he would wipe steam off his mother’s mirror, hoping for a view of his friend below the surface.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, Tooky,” he said to the ice blocking his way, “but I’m doing my best to keep my uncle away from you. Keep checking this hole, Tooky, and when you see it open you’ll know it’s safe to come up and visit with me again. I don’t know how long it will be, and I hope you don’t give up. Please keep checking. I miss you!”
Kyo jumped up and started running back to his house. He stopped shortly, though, and ran back to the hole.
“I love you!” he called to his friend, and headed for the house again. As he ran the world darkened. He looked up to see the moon disappear behind a blanket of clouds. Snowflakes fell all around him. He slowed his pace as it got harder to see the path through the flurrying snow.
As Kyo reached his small dark house, the air cleared and the brightness returned. He turned to look out at the ice. Millions of freshly fallen flakes sparkled in the moonlight. Suddenly very sleepy, Kyo slipped inside the warm house and got into bed.
Smack smack! Thwack THWACK! Kyo opened his eyes hoping to see Tooky clapping her flippers, but instead he saw his mother making bread by the stove. He quickly glanced over at his uncle’s sleeping place on the floor and sat up with a start when he saw it was empty.
“Mama, where’s my uncle?” Kyo asked worriedly. Annawee answered without turning from her dough.
“He’s off seal hunting. He tried to wake you, but you slept as soundly as a baby. You can follow him after you eat. He didn’t take his snowmobile, and he left good tracks in the snow that fell last night.”
Tracks! Kyo thought. I left tracks last night! He’ll see them.
Kyo jumped out of bed and pulled on his clothes.
“Can I take my breakfast with me, Mama? I want to go help my uncle. I don’t want to miss anything.” He made his eyes as big as he could, but he didn’t have to worry about convincing her.
“I’m glad you want to help him. It’s rare that we get to see Ahko.” She wrapped generous portions of breakfast in a clean towel, which Kyo stuffed into his parka.
“Goodbye!”
He ran out the door with his parka half open, pulling his mittens on his hands. He saw the tracks immediately: two sets of boots, big ones over little ones, following the path to Tooky’s hole.
Kyo started to run down the path but changed his mind, going to the snowmobile instead. He jumped on the seat and sat for a moment, trying to remember how to start the engine. He turned the key, and the machine wheezed, coughed, and was silent. He tried again, and this time the whole thing shook and sputtered and growled—then was still. Kyo swung off the seat and kicked one of the runners.
“You have to start!” he shouted at the hulk of metal. Glancing at the house, Kyo saw Annawee’s face appear briefly in the window. Before she reached the door Kyo was back on the snowmobile seat, turning the key. This time he remembered to turn the throttle.
The engine burst into its loud growl. Annawee’s shouts were lost in the snowmobile roar as Kyo turned the throttle more and the machine lurched forward, pulling the sledge and cage away from the house and toward the great ice.
The world flew by. Thrilled by the speed, Kyo forgot for a moment that there was any danger, either to himself or to his friend at the end of the path. Rounding a protruding slab of ice, Kyo felt the machine lift slightly off one runner. Scared that he might tip over, he slowed down a little.
George came into view. He was thrusting a pick into Tooky’s old breathing hole to reopen it. Stunned by George’s action and feeling helpless to stop him, Kyo let the snowmobile slide to a halt.
George finished hacking at the ice and looked up. He waved to Kyo, stepped back from the reopened hole, and picked up his rifle. Kyo jumped down and ran toward George, hoping that Tooky would not appear.
Just then her round head popped up in the hole.
“Don’t come up!” Kyo tried to yell, but the words caught in his throat. Tooky slid onto the ice and began her awkward lope toward the boy.
“No!” he cried, and she stopped, confused. George lifted his gun and the movement caught the seal’s eye. She whirled and bobbed quickly toward the hole.
George fired, dropped the gun, and raced toward the seal, who continued toward her escape, slowing as she reached it. George dove onto the ice and grabbed her tail just as her head dipped into the water.
“Kyo!” he yelled. “Come and help me pull her out! She’ll die if she falls in.”
Kyo reached them just seconds later. Together he and his uncle heaved and pulled the heavy, limp animal safely onto the ice.
Kyo sank down beside the still form.
“Whew! That was close!” panted George. He too sat down beside the seal.
“She looks dead.”
“Oh, no, Kyo. Remember, I told you that the darts only put the seal to sleep for a few hours. She hasn’t been hurt at all.”
Kyo wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve. George glanced at the snowmobile and back to Kyo.
“You sure surprised me when you came flying down here on my machine. But then I could tell you were a smart boy. You learned quickly how to drive it.”
Kyo was silent. He stared down at Tooky, wishing she would jump up and dive into the water before anyone could stop her.
“I’m not angry that you drove the snowmobile out here, Kyo. That was quick thinking. I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt. You knew I’d find a seal here, didn’t you? Or is there another boy with boots your size who walks out here often, sometimes with only the moon to light his way?”
Kyo ignored his uncle, who stood up and went to retrieve the gun. Kyo put his ear against Tooky and listened for her heartbeat. It was strong and even. Then he put his ear to her nose and felt her warm breath.
Satisfied that the seal was alive, Kyo sat up, his thoughts racing. He was afraid to tell his uncle that Tooky was a friend. George would never believe him. He would laugh at him or, worse, tell his parents and they would all have a good laugh at him during supper that night.
“Animals have a hard life,” George had told him the day before. “They have to fight and struggle to survive.” Maybe Tooky would be better off in the zoo after all, Kyo thought. Maybe she’d like having fish handed to her every day. Maybe fish are hard to find on her own. He wished he could just ask her, but he knew that even awake she could not answer him.
George drove the snowmobile up close to the seal, parking the cage beside her. “Give me a hand with her—say, Kyo, how did you know this seal was a female?”
“I’ve seen her before,” Kyo said quietly. “And I won’t help you put her in your rotten cage!” Kyo turned and ran off, away from his uncle and the sleeping seal and the settlement.
Shaking his head, George gently maneuvered the heavy seal into the cage. Then he started the engine and drove carefully back to the house.
Kyo walked in a wide circle that took him far out on the ice, then inland to the base of the mountains. He found a sunny spot out of the wind and sat down, took out his knife and stone, and began to carve.
Near dusk he stood up, stretched his legs, and started to climb. Stopping partway up the slope to catch his breath, he turned and faced the valley below. He picked out his own house among the others, all dark against the graying terrain. The snowmobile was parked near the house and George’s figure moved beside it.
A shadow passed over Kyo, and he looked up to see a great snowy owl glide over his head. The huge bird’s outspread win
gs beat slowly and firmly against the evening air.
Suddenly it dropped to the snow, talons first, then quickly lifted off with a small, white ball of fur wriggling in its grasp. The owl had caught its prey. It would eat that night.
Kyo realized he was hungry, too. Hours ago he’d consumed the food his mother had packed for him. He started down the mountainside.
A loud clamor of barking dogs greeted Kyo as he approached his home. He saw Tooky lying still in the cage. He hung his fingers on the wire and leaned his face against it.
George came out of the house just as Kyo turned to go inside. He mumbled a greeting to his uncle and brushed by him.
Annawee sat in her favorite chair, a kerosene lamp glowing on either side of her, needle in hand, cloth heaped in her lap. Kudlah sat bent over a snowshoe frame, weaving narrow strips of leather, pulling them taut and securing them to the frame. They both looked up as Kyo came in and watched him slowly remove his parka.
“You look troubled, Kyo,” said his father.
“I’m sad,” he said, nodding. “And hungry.”
Kudlah put down the snowshoe and went to the stove, where he ladled steaming soup into a bowl and set it on the table for the tired boy. He sat at the table with Kyo and watched him pour spoonfuls of soup into his mouth without pause. When the bowl was empty, Kyo asked for more. “Just half a bowl, please.” Kudlah filled it and sat down again. When that was gone, too, Kyo pushed away the bowl and looked at his father.
“I saw a big white owl on the mountainside catch a mouse for its supper and I didn’t feel sad. I was happy for the owl because it flew so smoothly and had no other way to get food.” He stopped, but Kudlah just waited. Annawee had set down her needle. Her hands lay still in her lap.
“My uncle was happy to catch the seal today, but I’m not pleased for him at all. He says she’ll be happier when someone gives her fish every day, but I wonder if she doesn’t like to swim fast and catch her own?”
The Secret of the Seal Page 2
