Winter in Eden

bones for antlers. He seized it to him and tumbled away, laughing.
    "You should eat more," Angajorqaq said, sitting down at her side and holding out a handful of the white blubber. She had thrown most of her skin clothes aside in the heat of the paukarut and her fur-covered breasts swung free when she extended her arm. Armun dipped out a small bit of the greasy substance and licked at it. Angajorqaq made unhappy clicking noises with her tongue.
    "There was a woman once who did not eat the fish when it was caught." She had a story about everything, saw hidden meanings in any event no matter how commonplace. "It was a silver fish and very big and fat and it looked at her and did not understand. Tell me, the fish said, why you do not eat me? Deep in the ocean I heard the right spells that the fisherman said, saw the hook with the bright bait. I ate it as I should and now I am here and you do not eat me. Why?
    "When the woman heard this she was very angry and told the fish it was only a fish and she could eat him or not, whichever pleased her. But of course when the fish-spirit heard this he was even angrier and swam up from the dark bottom of the sea where he lives, swam faster and faster until he hit the ice and broke up through that and opened his mouth and ate the paukarut and all the furs and the baby and the oil lamp and then ate the woman too. So you see what happens when you do not eat. Eat!"
    Armun licked some more of the fat from her finger. "When the storm stops and the sun comes back and it is warm—then I am leaving with the boys…"
    Angajorqaq screeched aloud and dropped the blubber, grasped her ears and rocked from side to side.
    Kalaleq looked up when he heard this, eyes wide with astonishment, then climbed to his feet and walked over to see what had caused the commotion. In the warmth of the paukarut he had thrown all of his clothing aside: his smooth brown fur shone in the lamplight. Even after all this time Armun found it hard to realize that all the Paramutan were like this, covered with fur from head to foot. Kalaleq's tail came forward decently up between his legs, the furry end spread out to cover his maleness.
    "Angajorqaq made a sound of great unhappiness," he said, then held out the bone he was carving to distract her. "This will be a whistle, and see—there will be a ularuaq on it and the whistle will come from its mouth when it is blown."
    She pushed his hand aside, was not going to be deprived of her misery this easily.
    "It is winter and dark—but the hair of the Erqigdlit is like the sun inside the paukarut and we laugh and eat and are warm. But now…" she wailed again, still rocking from side to side… "now Armun will go and the light of the boys will go and all will be black."
    Winter in Eden - Harry Harrison
    Kalaleq gaped at this outburst. "But they cannot go," he said. "When the blizzard blows, death sits outside the paukarut with open mouth. When you walk from the paukarut you walk into his teeth. So they cannot go and you do not have to cry out."
    "In the spring," Armun said. "We must go then."
    "See," Kalaleq said, stroking Angajorqaq's fur to quiet her. "See, they are not going. Eat something. They stay."
    The Paramutan lived one day at a time and each new day came as a wonderful surprise. Armun was silent now, but her mind was still made up. They were going to leave as soon as the weather was warm enough to travel. She licked the rest of the blubber from her finger. They would eat well now so they would be strong. And go south as soon as they were able.
    The storm blew itself out during the night and when Kalaleq loosened the laces on the smokehole in the morning a tiny shaft of sunlight lanced in. Everyone shouted with excitement at that and searched among the tumbled furs for their discarded clothing, shrieking with laughter when they found someone else's skins. They had been trapped by the storm for days without number and the children screamed with eagerness. Armun held tight to the wriggling Arnwheet with one hand while she pulled on the soft undergarments that had the fur facing inward for greater warmth. Over them went the thicker outer furs, with the hood, then boots, gloves, everything that made existence possible in the polar north.
    Kalaleq was lying stretched out flat, grunting with exertion as he pushed aside the snow that was blocking the end of the entrance tunnel. Light filtered in, then darkened as he wriggled into the opening. They blinked in the glare when