Tuktu- 4- The Snow Palace (How to build a REAL Inuit igloo)

I want to tell you a story of the old days, when people were different from now. I could tell you many amusing stories of the strange white men who came to look for Eskimos. My father told me that he saw white men trying to keep warm in a tent made of canvas cloth. We too had tents, but we lived in them only in summer. To live in a summer tent in winter is madness. To find good seal hunting, we sometimes moved our families with all our belongings. This was a time of great excitement for me. I can still remember riding on our big sled, the loud barking of the dogs and the sound of my father's voice as he urged them on. At the finish of the trek, the first thing we did was to build a shelter from the wind and cold. While the dogs rested, my father and other men of the village looked for a certain kind of deep, well-packed snow. This kind of snow was the best for cutting into blocks, and once it was found, we all worked together at the igloo building. We Eskimos of Pele Bay are among the best igloo builders in the land. This is the story of our igloos and how we build them. My father told me a story about a young boy who managed to live through a terrible famine. Everyone in his village was either ill or dead. His own parents had died of hunger. The igloos were cold, for there was no seal oil for the lamps. The few men left alive were too weak to hunt, and soon everything would be desolate and silent. So early one morning, the young boy left this place of sorrow. He took with him his father's spear, just in case he found a seal or perhaps even a small fox. The young boy walked a long, long way, on and on across the snow. A terrible hunger gripped his stomach, and his legs felt weak. At last, as the light was failing, he saw in the distance a lonely igloo. With his last remaining strength, he made his way towards it. After a great struggle, he came up to the igloo and crawled inside. He looked around, his eyes heavy with the sleep of death. The igloo was empty, and no one came to greet him. A lamp burned brightly, and seal meat was cooking in a pot. Then a voice bade him welcome to the igloo. Eat all you need of seal meat, said the voice. Dry your mittens and boots on the rack above the lamp, and sleep well beneath the warm skins on the sleeping platform. Do not be afraid, for no harm will come to you. The starving boy needed no second bidding. He ate the seal meat and dried his mittens and boots over the lamp. Then he slept beneath the warm skins on the sleeping platform. He awoke shivering with cold. The lamp, the seal meat, and the warm skins had vanished, but when he left the igloo, he found waiting for him a sled and six fine dogs. Then a voice, coming it seemed from nowhere, told him to ride the sled, to let the dogs take him on a long journey. So the boy rode the sled all that day, fast as the wind they traveled over the snow. The dogs were silent, nor did they look on one side or the other, nor did they rest. On and on they ran, until just as the light was failing, they came to another igloo. When they stopped outside, the dogs and the sled vanished. Then the voice told the boy to enter the igloo. Dry your mittens and boots over the lamp, said the voice. Fill your belly with seal meat, and sleep under the warm skins on the sleeping platform. Do not be afraid, for no harm will come to you. And all this came to pass, even as the night before. Once again the boy awoke shivering with cold. The lamp, the seal meat, and the warm skins had vanished, but when he left the igloo, he found the dogs and the sled waiting for him. Go for the last time, said the voice. Ride the sled. The dogs will take you on a long journey. So the boy rode the sled all that day, swiftly, swiftly over the snow, and the only sound he heard was the wind moaning in his ears. On and on the dogs ran, neither looking to one side or the other, never stopping, never tiring. At last, just as the light was failing, the boy saw a village of many igloos. When he came close by, the dogs and the sled vanished. He was greeted by all the people of the village, and they were kind to him. They held a big feast in his honor, for he was a stranger from a far country. Come, live with us, they said. Here there is no famine. Hunger is unknown, for seals and caribou are found in great numbers. Stay with us and become a great hunter. Tell us stories of the land you come from. And so the boy stayed in this magic place. He became a great hunter and had many children, and for all I know, he lives there yet. When several igloos were joined together, they were large enough to hold the drum dance. These big igloos were places of feasting and songs, as well as dancing. As a small boy, I remember these times. Oh, I remember the marvelous beat of the drum and the solemn chanting of my father's voice. Games were played among the women and children in the big igloo. These were good times, happy times, and to me, a small child, all the world was happy. I quickly forgot the hardships of cold and famine when games were played. When my father was happy because of a successful hunt, he would sing a song or tell a poem. The lands around my dwelling are more beautiful from the day when it is given to me to see faces I have never seen before. All is more beautiful, all is more joyful, and life is thankfulness. These guests of mine make my house grand. In winter, our hungry sled dogs would eat anything made of skin, including the sled. Therefore, we often made a special snow house for the sled, a small igloo. This small igloo was good protection for the sled, not only from the ravenous dogs, but also from the weather. When the men went hunting, it was necessary for the women to stay in the igloo. The task of a man has always been hunting, to bring home food for his wife and children. It is the man who must fight the polar bear, kill the caribou, and outwit the clever seal. The weather is harsh, as you well know, and the hunter needed the woman to stay in the igloo so that when he returned from the hunt, he would find warmth, fresh dry clothing, and hot food. After a long time out in freezing weather, a hunter's clothes needed to be made dry again, ready perhaps for the next day's hunting. Therefore, it was always the woman who stayed behind. It was she who tended the lamps and looked after the children. She scraped animal skins, sewed the clothing for the family, and cooked the meat brought in by the men. The igloo was the center of work and gossip for the Eskimo women, a meeting place where endless stories were told and the children played with. The hunters would at last return. I remember waiting for my father, and I never doubted that he at least would bring home a seal. I was seldom wrong. My father was a great hunter. That is the way we used to live.