Julie of the Wolves Read Online Free PDF Page A

all around her and still looked the same in every direction.
    “Oh, ho!” she said aloud. “More lichens grow on one side of the frost heaves than on the other.” She pondered this, as well as the oblong shape of her pond, which was caused by the flow of the ice as it moved with the wind. But did the wind come down from the north or out of the west on the North Slope of Alaska? She did not know. Next, she noted that the grasses grew in different spots than the mosses, and the more she studied, the more the face of the tundra emerged; a face that could tell her which way was north, if she had listened more carefully to Kapugen.
    Her legs began to buckle and her body swayed. She crumpled to her knees, for the food was making her both dizzy and sleepy. She staggered into her fur-carpeted house and lay down.
    M IYAX’S EYELIDS FLUTTERED; THE BLACK LASHES parted, then framed her wide eyes like ferns around a pool. She had eaten, slept for many hours; and the dull, tired feeling of starvation was gone. She felt bright and very much alive.
    Rolling to her stomach, she propped herself on her elbows, and reached into her pot to eat. She ate a lot. The food in the pot lowered drastically. When but two meals remained, she made up her mind to tell Amaroq she wanted a whole shank of caribou. Wolves did bring food to their dens. Kapugen had seen them walk long miles in spring, with legs and ribs for the mothers who stayed in the ground with their pups for almost ten days after birth.
    Well, she had no puppies to induce Amaroq to feed her, so she pondered again. Kapugen had once told her of a wolf who was wounded by the hoofs of a caribou. He limped to a rock cave and lay down to recover. Every night his leader trotted over the snow, bringing him meat until he was well and could rejoin the pack.
    Miyax did not want to suffer a wound, but it seemed to her that in order to be fed by wolves one had to be helpless.
    “If that’s the case,” she said to herself, “I should be buried in food. I’m helpless enough. I cannot fell a caribou or catch a bird. And I’m lost, besides.” She thrust her head out the door.
    “Amaroq, I’m helpless,” she cried. The chilly air tingled her nose and she noticed that the cotton grasses by the pond were seeding out into white puffs. This was worrisome, for they marked the coming of autumn, the snows, and the white-outs. White-outs could be dangerous. When the cotton grass heads were gone, the winds would lift the snow from the ground to the air and she would not be able to see her feet. She would be imprisoned wherever she stood ... maybe for days ... maybe till death.
    Amaroq howled the long note to assemble. Silver and Nails barked a brief “Coming,” and it was the beginning of a new day for Miyax and the wolves. Although the clocks in Barrow would say it was time to get ready for bed, she was getting up, for she was on wolf time. Since there was no darkness to hamper her vision, night was as good a time to work as day, and much better if you were a wolf girl. Rehearsing whimpers and groveling positions as she climbed to her lookout, she got ready to tell Amaroq how helpless she was in his own language.
    He was awake, lying on his side, watching Sister’s paw twitch as she slept. He got up and licked the restless sleeper as if to say “All’s well.” The paw relaxed.
    Miyax whimpered and twisted her head appealingly. Amaroq shot her a glance and wagged his tail as if she had said “Hello,” not “I’m helpless.”
    Suddenly his head lifted, his ears went up, and Amaroq sniffed the wind. Miyax sniffed the wind and smelled nothing, although Amaroq was on his feet now, electric with the airborne message. He snapped his hunters to attention and led them down the slope and off across the tundra. Jello stayed home with the pups.
    The pack moved in single file almost to the horizon, then swerved and came back. Shading her eyes, Miyax finally saw what the wind had told Amaroq. A herd of