The night that had just passed had been one of the longest of Ootah’s young life. Kept awake by his father’s worsening cough, both Ootah and his wife did everything they could to relieve the old man’s discomfort. Extra fat was thrown on the lamp in an effort to sweat the evil spirit out of Nakusiak’s diseased body. With the assistance of several fur blankets, his fever broke, yet the hacking cough that continued to bring blood to his lips seemed to further intensify. It had gotten so bad that it was difficult for the old man to even breathe properly. Unable to get down any of the walrus meat, Nakusiak’s strength continued to ebb. His cheeks and forehead were sallow, and it took supreme effort for him to sit up and relieve himself.
Remembering the sorrow that had crossed his heart when his mother had died, Ootah became desperate. In no mood for another burial, he racked his mind in an effort to come up with a cure. It was Akatingwah who suggested making a trip into Arctic Bay to bring back one of the white medicine men.
Ootah was seriously considering such a drastic move when Nakusiak forcefully intervened. Between violent fits of coughing he implored them to keep such a sorcerer far from their igloo.
“Please son!” he pleaded between gasps of air. “You mustn’t dirty my soul now that I’m about to be visiting our ancestors. If I must die, let it be amongst my own people.”
Ootah did not dare go against his father’s iron will, and gracefully backed down, suggesting instead that he go and fetch Powhuktuk, the shaman. Nakusiak gave him his assent, and off Ootah went on this desperate mission of mercy.
It was a rare windless night. A myriad of stars twinkled in the sparkling-clear heavens, while on the distant horizon, the northern lights painted an ethereal canvas of spiraling, pulsating color. Taking these conditions as a good omen, Ootah roused his dogs and hitched up the sled. There were tears in Akatingwah’s eyes as she bid him farewell before returning to the snow house to attend to Nakusiak.
Ootah only had to use his sinew whip but once, to turn the pack to the west, where Powhuktuk’s snowhouse was located. His lead dog, Arnuk, seemed to sense his master’s urgency, and pushed on his furry brethren with a maddening fierceness. Onward they raced over the ice pack, the knife-sharp runner’s of the sled smoothly cutting through the surface of the frozen sea with a loud hiss.
Oddly enough, the shaman was fully dressed and seemed to be awaiting Ootah’s arrival. With barely a word spoken between them, Powhuktuk shouldered his medicine bag and crawled beneath the blankets of the sled.
The trip back was a bit more strenuous. The dogs were tiring, and to make matters even worse, a headwind had developed. Forced to use the whip, Ootah sprinted beside the sled, to create as light a load as possible.
They arrived back at camp just as the first hint of dawn was coloring the eastern horizon. Akatingwah ran outside to greet them. Once again there were tears in her eyes as she explained Nakusiak’s deteriorating condition.
Powhuktuk completely ignored her emotional state, and calmly went about his business. First the shaman removed a brightly painted mask from his bag. It had the features of a demon, and was designed to fit over Powhuktuk’s head with the aid of a piece of sinew string. Next he pulled out a whalebone rattle, and a flat, hand-held drum that he began furiously beating.
Raising his deep voice to the heavens, the shaman sang out in prayer. All the time quickening his drumbeat, he circled the igloo three complete times before ducking through it’s tunnel-like doorway.
Ootah and Akatingwah had been instructed to remain outdoors while the ceremony of healing was initiated. They passed the time by attending to the dogs. First they unhitched them. Then Ootah unsealed the cache and cut off several thick pieces of walrus meat. Hungry after their spirited journey, the dogs ate heartily before settling in behind their protective wall for a well-deserved rest.
Ootah was also beginning to feel the effects of their long sleepless night, and was just about to suggest to his wife that they curl up beneath the sled blanket, when a loud, rattling sound broke from the snowhouse. They turned toward this alien noise and caught sight of Powhuktuk, who had the mask over his head and was shaking the whalebone rattle with a furious intensity. Once again the shaman completely circled the igloo three times before halting beside the entranceway and abruptly silencing the rattle and pulling off his mask. Gazing out with wide eyes to the rapidly developing dawn, Powhuktuk cried out to the glowing heavens.
“Great Spirit, Nakusiak your son awaits the arrival of the fiery sled that will take him on his final journey. Tarry not, for this great hunter longs to return to the land of his ancestors.”
Spreading out his arms overhead, the shaman let loose a bloodcurdling wail. So loud was this banshee-like scream, even the dogs were awakened from their deep slumber.
“Ootah, your father calls for you!” shouted Powhuktuk forcefully. “Go bid him farewell on this longest of trips from which no mortal returns.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Ootah left his mate’s side and headed straight for the interior of the snow house. He found his father lying peacefully beneath the covers of the sleeping pallet. Curled at his side, sound asleep, was his grandson.
Touched by this innocent scene, Ootah’s expectations soared. Somehow Powhuktuk had performed yet another miracle, and Nakusiak would live! Yet any high hopes on his part were abruptly crushed when Ootah spotted the large pool of bright red blood that stained Nakusiak’s lips, throat, and upper torso.
With the flickering flame of the soapstone lamp casting a somber shadow, Ootah kneeled down beside his dying father. No sooner did he reach this position, when Nakusiak’s eyes popped open. So weak was the strained voice that followed, that Ootah had to bend his ear to his father’s lips to hear him.
“Ootah, my son. You mustn’t mourn my passing. For I go on a journey that I travel of my own choosing. Yet before I depart to rejoin the ancestors, you must promise me one thing.”
Nakusiak halted a moment to clear his dry throat before continuing.
“The bone amulet that I gave you, do you still have it, my son?”
Immediately grasping the sacred charm that hung from his neck, Ootah replied.
“Of course I do. Father. Why I’ll never take it off!”
Nakusiak managed a weak smile.
“I knew that I could rely on you, my son. Now, remember our shared dream. And when the comet arrives in all its fiery glory, recollect the prophecy that the grandfathers handed down to the people at the very beginning of time. And perhaps the Great Spirit will intervene, and mankind will be spared.”
With the conclusion of these words, Nakusiak was caught up in a fit of violent coughing. And as the blood poured down the corners of his cracked lips, the elder shut his eyes and initiated the first steps of his final journey.
Beside him, Ootah was strangely affected by his father’s passing. No tears fell down his cheeks. Rather, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from him. And it was in this spirit that he began making the burial arrangements.
Later that morning, not long after Nakusiak’s corpse was deposited in a shallow grave at the utskirts of their camp, Ootah was drawn to the very edge of the pack ice. As he gazed up into the clear blue heavens, he felt a strange feeling overcome him, and for a brief, fleeting magical moment he touched upon the oneness that guides mankind’s destiny. Suddenly no longer afraid of that final journey he, too, would have to eventually face, the Inuit scanned the vast Arctic sky, finally fixing his gaze on a thin white line that cut the heavens like a knife. No stranger to the vapor trails left in the wake of the white man’s airplanes, he knew this track was lower than the others he had viewed, and somehow different.
Ootah was in the midst of contemplating what made this sky trail unique when the heavens exploded in a fireball of dazzling color. This blindingly bright shaft of light was followed by a deafening boom, that seemed to shake the very ice beneath him.