The
supersonic speed with which my soul had traveled out of my body denied
me the opportunity to fully reflect on the true cause of the death of
myself and my father. However, like a dream that one finally remembers
later in the day, I found out it wasn't by choice that we had left the
planet Earth -- but by the violent agony of incredible physical pain.
My father and I had been stalking a ringed seal close to a clutter
of ice ridges hugging a small island. We had suddenly heard the hardened
snow making crunching sounds behind us. But before we could turn around
to see what was making the sounds, a powerful polar bear paw had knocked
us down. The great white Nanuq, the King of Arctic wildlife, had come
to stake his claim to the very same ringed seal we were after. With
a few powerful swipes of its claws and life-ending bites from its hungry
jaws, the great White Ghost had cut through our flesh and burst open
the bubble of our life-blood!
My father and I spent our last few moments in the physical world engulfed
in the violence of the tyrannical beast. Memorable were the gratified
eyes of the King, in contrast to our hysterical shrieks and terrified,
bulging eyeballs!
It wasn't fair to me and my father that the King never gave us an opportunity
to challenge it in battle for supremacy over the Great White Arctic
Kingdom. It would have been a call-to-arms pitting the King's natural
weapons against our manmade weapons of knives and harpoons. My father
and I could only commend the King for its great agility despite its
lumbering reputation when walking or running on ice. Its natural instinct
as a predator allowed it to do what comes naturally - a couple of well-placed
slaps to our bodies - the rest of its job was elementary; sending our
souls unceremoniously toward the widening cosmos!
It was from a certain perspective in the sky that I was able to observe
what happened next. My older brother, Nuna, who had gone to the other
side of the island to watch over one of the other breathing holes, came
back to discover a great tragedy. The Great White Ghost was in the act
of devouring our bodies when my brother ran up to the towering beast
with his harpoon at the ready. He then hurled the powerful darting lance
with rage in his eyes. The advancing force of the harpoon became bullet-like
as it flew toward its target. My brother's face was so incredibly enraged
that I did not recognize him. He looked like a marauder, a tyrannical
man, who had suddenly grown long fangs in his madness. I was astonished
how a gentle person like Nuna could become so monstrous during a fit
of rage, swearing vengeance for a great injustice done to his dear father
and brother.
Finally, his tool of death found its victim. Only a Great White Ghost
could growl with such distinction as this one did. Its heart splintered
like glass. The pupils turned angelic white. The black blood instantaneously
jetted out onto the crystallized ice. What a way to pay for taking away
the lives of two innocent hungry hunters! What a bloody shame to have
wasted such precious human beings. Then again, that was the nature of
our precarious lives, both man's and beasts.
In the land of the wild, no individual is ever favored by another.
When the time comes, no individual is ever spared. No law of nature
protects or galvanizes the lives of men or beasts alike.
In the end, Nanuq, the Great White Ghost, was forced to repent in front
of my dear brother, Nuna.
-- from Arctic Dreams and Nightmares (Theytus
Books, 1993)
