We Are Not Eaten by Yaks Read Online Free PDF Page A

the North Pole first. They accused each other of faking their journals, of making up data and telling tall tales. They challenged each other to duels, and sent their supporters to pick fights with the opposition outside the National Geographic Society. A small group of Inuit hunters, the original Arctic citizens, meanwhile, had been visiting the North Pole for over a thousand years, but none of the explorers asked their opinion on the Peary-Cook feud.
    â€œThe Inuit tend not to keep journals,” Dr. Navel explained when he told the twins about the feud as a bedtime story. “Their legends and their memories are the maps that guide them. They leave the bragging and the journals to explorers.”
    â€œI think I prefer the Inuit way of doing things,” Celia said. Their father laughed and kissed her on the forehead.
    â€œJust like your mother,” he said sadly.
    Oliver and Celia crept along the hall, nervous that they might run into Sir Edmund or his mysterious companion. As they got closer, they could hear the clinking of glasses and the loud chatter of the explorers at the Ceremony of Discovery. They eased themselves along the walls slowly. How would they explain being so dirty? They hoped they could just warn their father about the plot on his life, get him to give them cable, and get back out again before anyone made them listen to some tale about mountain climbing.
    â€œReady?” asked Celia when they reached the door to the Great Hall. “Remember, move quickly and try not to look suspicious.”
    â€œHow do I do that?”
    â€œAct confident!”
    â€œBut I’m not confident!”
    â€œThat’s why it’s called acting, dummy.” And with that, she grabbed her brother by the ear and shoved him into the room first.
    As they stood, frozen side by side in the doorway of the Great Hall, no one so much as looked at them. Though they were covered in dust and grime, and carrying a backpack, the children were hardly the most bizarre-looking people in the room.
    Professor Eckhart of the Department of Obscure Spiritualities at the University of Norôurárdalur in Iceland wore his gray hair in a mohawk. He also had a monkey on his shoulder. Madame Xpertina, a famous trans-Siberian motocross rider, wore her hair in a purple buzz cut and had on an outfit made of shining black leather. She appeared to be chatting with a naval officer who had a kangaroo on a leash. There were soldiers in uniform and businessmen in tuxedos and scientists and athletes and at least two astronauts in the room, all dressed up and chattering away, clutching glasses of sherry. The very smell of sherry made Oliver’s stomach turn. Celia had never bothered so much as to smell it.
    A remarkable trait of Celia’s, it should be noted, is that she lacked all curiosity. She did not like to know how things worked, how they smelled, what they tasted like, why they were made, who made them, or where or when. She wanted only to be left alone to watch her programs. Oliver felt the same way, but for a different reason. Curiosity always ended with him covered in lizard bites.
    The walls of the Great Hall were hung with the heads and pelts of animals. A full-size cheetah, frozen mid-leap, was mounted on a platform in the center of the room. A collection of birds perched eternally on the rafters. Elk, deer and buffalo heads watched over the gala with lifelike glass eyes. Near the door stood a polar bear on its hind legs, its mouth open in a growl and its paws raised to attack.
    Sometimes Oliver and Celia felt like they, too, were part of the club’s collection of treasures, and that they would end up mounted on the wall of the Great Hall one day, with ghastly expressions on their faces and marbles instead of eyes.
    More disturbing for Oliver and Celia, though, was the stage at the opposite end of the room that was used for the endless slide shows and speeches that the explorers liked to give. The idea made