Chapter 17
I First Hear Of Karjuk; I Must Meet Him

“But I have never seen it before,” said Imnak.

He examined the carving.

It was the head of a Kur, in bluish stone, the ear at the left side of its head half torn away. I had brought it with me from Port Kar. I had originally obtained it at the Sardar Fair, at the booth of the curio dealer.

“I thought you had sold it to the dealer at the fair,” I said.

“I sold carvings at the fair,” said Imnak, “yes, but I did not sell this.”

“I had thought you did,” I said.

“No,” said Imnak.

“Then he must have obtained the carving from some other,” I said.

Imnak shrugged. “It would seem so,” he said.

“Who other than you of the Innuit,” I asked, “journeyed this year to the lair?”

“Only I,” said Imnak.

“Can you be sure?” I asked.

“Reasonably so,” said Imnak. “It is a long journey to go to the fair. If some other had gone I think I would have heard of this. It makes good telling in the tents.”

“Where then,” I asked, “might the dealer have obtained this carving?”

“I do not know,” said Imnak. “I am sorry, Tarl, who hunts with me.”

“Forgive me, Imnak, who hunts with me,” I said, “it was not my intent to impugn your honesty.” I had pressed the matter too much with him. He had told me he had not seen the carving before. For a red hunter that was sufficient.

“Can you tell from the styling or toolwork,” I asked, “who might have made this carving.”

The art of the Innuit is often similar, from object to object. Yet to a subtle eye there are slight differences. One man will release from bone or ivory, or stone, a figure in a way which is slightly different from the way in which another will release it.

Imnak examined the carving carefully, turning it about in his hand.

I felt sick. That carving had, in effect, brought me to the north. Now it seemed it had led me only to a dead end. Miserably in my mind I contemplated the vastness of the polar basin. The summer, too, was already advanced.

“Imnak,” I asked, “have you heard of a mountain that does not move?”

He looked at me.

“A mountain of ice,” I said, “in the polar sea.”

“No,” said Imnak.

“Have you not even heard the story of such a mountain?” I asked.

“No,” said Imnak.

I looked down at the mat. “Imnak,” I said, “have you ever seen such a beast as is represented in that carving?”

“Yes,” he said.

I looked up at him, quickly.

“North of Torvaldsland,” he said, “I saw one once, some years ago. I threatened it with my harpoon, and it went away.”

“Was its ear thusly torn?” I asked.

“It was night,” he said. “I did not see it well. I do not think so.”

“Was it a large animal?” I asked.

“Not too large,” he said.

“What do you call such animals?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Beasts,” he said.

I sighed. Some years ago Imnak had seen a Kur north of Torvaldsland. It had probably been a young beast, an offspring of ship Kurii, stranded long ago on Gor. Such animals are found occasionally, usually in remote areas.

“But it was not an ice beast,” he said. I did not understand him.

“It was not white,” he said.

“Oh,” I said. “Are there such beasts in the north?”

“Yes,” he said, “here and there, on the ice.”

These too, I assumed would be native Kurii, the survivors of stranded ship Kurii, perhaps crashed, brought down or marooned generations ago. There were different races of Kurii, I knew, though from my point of view there did not seem much point in discriminating among them. It was speculated that it had been fratricidal wars among such various forms of Kur which had resulted in the destruction of their native world.

Imnak handed the carving back to me.

I was at a loss. I had no clues. My northward journey had brought me to an impasse. There was now nothing to do, nowhere to go.

I was now alone in the north, an isolated, meaningless fool.

“After I sleep,” I said, “I am going to return to the south.”

“All right,” said Imnak.

I placed the carving in the fur wrapper in which I kept it, and then put the carving, in this wrapper, in my pouch.

“That is the work of Karjuk,” he said. I looked up, suddenly.

“You asked me who did the carving, I thought,” he said.

“Yes!” I said.

“Karjuk did it,” he said.

I embraced him. “You are marvelous, Imnak!” I cried.

“Once, in one day, I slew six sleen,” he admitted. “But I am really a poor hunter,” he insisted.

“Where is this Karjuk?” I asked. “I would speak with him.”

“He is not here,” said Imnak.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“In the north,” said Imnak.

“Where in the north?” I asked.

“In the far north,” said Ininak. “No man lives north of Karjuk,” he added.

“Who is Karjuk?” I asked.

“He is the guard,” said Imnak.

“The guard?” I asked. “Yes,” said Imnak, “he guards the People against the ice beasts.”

“We must find him,” I said.

“Karjuk is a strange man,” he said. “If the ice beasts cannot find him how can we?”

“I am leaving as soon as I have slept,” I told Imnak..

“You are going south?” he asked.

“No,” I laughed, “I am now going north.”

“You have business in the north?” inquired Imnak politely.

“Yes,” I said.

“But the tabuk are not yet fat,” he said, “and their coats are not yet thick and glossy.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“It is not yet time to go north,” he said. “There is a right time and a wrong time to do things. This is the time to hunt tabuk.”

“I must go north,” I told him. “I can dally here no longer.”

“It is not yet time to go north,” he said. ‘The tabuk are not yet fat.”

“Nonetheless, I must go north,” I told him. “Your business seems pressing,” said he.

“It is,” I said.

He looked at me.

“I seek an enemy,” I said.

“In the north one needs friends, not enemies,” he said.

I smiled at him.

He looked at me. “The beast?” he asked. “You seek the beast with the torn ear? He is your enemy?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Let us hope the tabuk grow fat slowly,” he said. He grinned.

“After I sleep,” I said, “I will leave for the north.”

“I will accompany you,” he said.

“But the tabuk are not yet fat,” I said.

“It is not my fault they came late to the tundra,” said Imnak. He stuck his head outside of the tent.

“Poalu,” he called. “After we sleep, we are going north;”

“It is not time to go north,” she cried, horrified.

“I know it is crazy,” said Imnak, “but we are going to do it.”

“Yes, Imnak,” she said, “my master.”

Imnak returned to where I sat.

“Where will we find Karjuk?” I asked.

Imnak shrugged. “If Karjuk does not want to be found, he will not be found,” he said. “No man knows the ice like Karjuk. We will go to the permanent camp and wait for him there. Sometimes he comes to the permanent camp.”

“Where is that camp?” I asked.

“It is by the shore of the sea,” he said.

“But what if he does not come to that camp?” I asked.

“Then we will not be able to find him.” said Imnak. “If the ice beasts cannot find Karjuk, how can we expect to do so?”