Black Star, Bright Dawn
Scott O'Dell
Language: English
Pages: 144
ISBN: 0547053193
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
A Rose Before Dying (Second Sons Inquiry Agency, Book 2)
Anthem for Doomed Youth (Daisy Dalrymple, Book 19)
another day and night we will build a porch for ourselves, a very good place to cook in." Katy Logan asked, "Our friend keeps saying na-ma-kto. What does it mean?" "Na-ma-kto means 'very good,'" I said. Oteg had brought a lamp with him and set it up between us. It was not really a lamp, simply a hollowed-out piece of soapstone. Filled with chunks of frozen seal and fitted with a long cotton wick, it glowed and made blue shadows dance against the walls. I should have felt snug but I didn't. I
slept with one eye open, so in a moment he raised up and rubbed his cold nose against mine to beg my pardon for his absence. Then he curled up again. 15 The next checkpoint was Ikuma. My things were strewn about on the sled, thrown in any old way. I took time and put everything in order. I changed my clothes from the skin out and put on sealskin pants and my best parka and the parka cover I had made of red cotton cloth. It had a flowery print of roses and looked like a summer dress. It
mukluks. In the next race he came in first and won a new parka. After that he was on the river every Saturday and I didn't have a chance to race until spring. He was very short and had a bow in both his legs, but he was strong. In the bad places he jumped off the sled and pushed and kept pushing for an hour, even with his bad hand. He grasped the caribou whip with only his thumb and sent it singing along the backs of our seven sled dogs. He won six races, then the big one, the three-hundred-mile
notes. Every week my father asked me to read them over to him from the beginning. When the ice on the big river broke up, he and Peter Avakoff took their teams into the hills north of the village, where deep snow still lay on the ground. They trained all summer, though most of the snow had melted by July, going out days and nights and traveling at least fifty miles each time. After most of the snow had melted, there were stretches of mudholes and quivering ground that shook and bounced the
notes. Every week my father asked me to read them over to him from the beginning. When the ice on the big river broke up, he and Peter Avakoff took their teams into the hills north of the village, where deep snow still lay on the ground. They trained all summer, though most of the snow had melted by July, going out days and nights and traveling at least fifty miles each time. After most of the snow had melted, there were stretches of mudholes and quivering ground that shook and bounced the