litlinks 2022

Snowdrift

by Noah Stuart, Canberra College

Long before Akinitsivuk left her homeland behind, the shaman Inukiqa had once set foot on the very same journey. The girl, now walking with her father’s rifle at her side, knew this well. In fact, it seemed only yesterday that her ancestor Inukiqa told her of the journey herself in a night vision.

When she awoke that morning, the shaman of the village beckoned her to prepare her belongings. The old woman’s words of wisdom were tainted with the scent of alcohol, and meant little to Akinitsivuk; however, she knew the needs of the village. In a leather pouch strung across her chest, she carried boxes and trinkets, hoping to exchange them for money. Enough money to survive the upcoming winter.

Akinitsivuk now travelled east along the coastline, walking the first journey of a shaman. She didn’t know the art of healing, or how to talk to demons, and she barely trusted the village shaman’s visions. But she walked anyway, living off the sparse vegetation and dried seal in her pack. Each night, she would lay under the stars and dream. Sometimes, Inukiqa would appear to her and they would share stories of their lives and families.

As the days passed, Akinitsivuk slowly began to see into the world of spirits. This far out in the Arctic, the whispers of the shadow people would ring in her ears and Akinitsivuk started to wonder if the legends were really true. When she would wake, Inukiqa rose with her, and walked alongside her, weaving through a forest long gone. The days grew colder, and Akinitsivuk had to use her father’s rifle for the first time when her food ran thin. Her ears were still ringing as she dug into the flesh of the seal, uttering a quick prayer of thanks to the animal. Now a shaman, it felt wrong to skip over tradition.

One night, she dreamt pleasantly of the adventures her father shared with her in childhood. Suddenly, she became very aware that she was dreaming and a rush of consciousness raced through her mind. In her dream, she looked around with wild eyes. Behind her, standing on its hind legs, a snow white ermine stood watching. What was only a moment felt like hours, as they locked eyes. Then just as suddenly as it had appeared, the ermine scampered off, disappearing into the snow. Akinitsivuk then woke up, heart pounding. Dawn had not yet broken, but she quickly gathered her belongings and was soon walking away. She cursed herself for never listening to the shaman, who had told her what dream creatures foretold.

The nerves didn’t leave her for the days that followed, until finally she stood unsure at the edge of the land, waiting for the ship to pass, as the shaman had said. Beside her, Inukiqa stood solemnly. Akinitsivuk wondered what she was waiting for, what the purpose of her journey was. Akinitsivuk knew from her tools and parka that she had lived in the time before the white men’s ships. The spirit of Inukiqa slowly made her way down to the ocean, eyes closed. Akinitsivuk followed closely behind, watching intently. Inukiqa continued down and began walking through the ocean that Akinitsivuk could not cross. She raised a long ivory shaft to the sky, covered in carvings and symbols with some forgotten meaning.

Then, the ocean parted, revealing an orca bowing reverently before the ancestor. Inukiqa slowly lowered her talisman and placed it in the mouth of the whale. Words were spoken between Inukiqa and the creature, but Akinitsivuk could not yet hear into that place. The orca then swept across the water, sinking back to the depths of the sea. Inukiqa returned from the water that day with a blessing. The ocean goddess Sedna had granted power and prosperity to Inukiqa, who now faded from the sight of Akinitsivuk.

Suddenly alone, she stood on the rocky shore, clutching the gun of her father. The day grew old, and it wasn’t until late afternoon that the speck of a ship appeared on the horizon. Tired and impatient, Akinitsivuk had whittled away a carving of her ancestor’s blessing on a piece of stray driftwood. She missed her quiet company, the reassurance that she was walking the right path.

As the sun sank behind an overcast sky, the huge ship pulled close to the beach. Even from across the water, Akinitsivuk could hear the loud voices of the men on the ship. She called out to them, waving her arms in greeting, though she had no real desire to acquaint herself. A smaller boat was lowered into the choppy waters, and slunk its way to shore. Akinitsivuk stood tall as the men came up, surrounding her, talking at her in their strange language.

She raised her arms for silence, and then spoke. Her father had made her memorise the phrase, an exchange of their money and drinks in return for her village’s wares. After she rehearsed her message, she showed them the cigarette boxes, knives, bowls and other trinkets that these men loved. They took them from her hands and passed them to each other, laughing and inspecting her offering with amused eyes. One of them spoke to her, but not knowing what he meant, Akinitsivuk only repeated her message and held her hands out waiting. The man nodded to his companions, who rushed to fill the girl’s pouch with small silver coins and a few bottles of alcohol.

One of the men tried to grab her father’s gun, but Akinitsivuk shouted at him and snatched it back. The man held up a handful of larger coins, but Akinitsivuk shook her head. Another man tried to join the first and offer more, but the girl raised her gun towards the men. They fell silent immediately, and she slowly made her way back into the treeline, watching their faces and daring them to try her again.

Once she was out of sight, she began her journey home. Her pouch weighed on her shoulders, and Akinitsivuk wished she could carry the blessing of a goddess instead of metal and poison. The days grew colder still, and the kind weather that had once mantled the skies in days past was beginning to slip away.

Akinitsivuk walked through the trees, tracing her way back towards the open plains. As she passed through a familiar clearing, the air grew sharp. She suddenly saw her ancestor standing ahead of her, spear held in defence. Akinitsivuk walked slowly towards the spirit and followed her gaze between the trees. A single ermine stood watching both of them. Akinitsivuk felt her pulse quicken. Snow rustled behind the travellers and the ermine scampered away. Akinitsivuk spun to face the sound, and felt her stomach drop. A rugged polar bear crouched on the edge of the clearing, growling at the girl’s sudden movements.

Without thinking, Akinitsivuk raised her father’s rifle and pulled the trigger. The bear howled as a bullet shot through its shoulder, while the girl winced at the deafening gunshot and sudden recoil. With no time to run, the bear was on her, ripping through her fur coat and sinking its teeth into flesh. Head swimming, she stopped struggling and gazed into another world, watching as a girl plunged her spear directly into the head of another bear. That bear fell to the earth, and Inukiqa, blessed by the goddess, walked on.