Eagle Drums by Nasuġraq Rainey Hopson

Author:Nasuġraq Rainey Hopson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roaring Brook Press

The boy looked at Savik, hoping that he would see the tension. Hoping he would see it and pick another person. Savik frowned at both of them for a moment, grunted, and nodded at the boy to begin.

Piŋa realized then that he was meant to be challenged. That this angry man was to be part of his lessons.

Savik stepped back and found a caribou skin on the floor to sit on and watch. The hall was silent as all eyes looked to them. The boy swallowed the dryness in his throat.

“What should I call you? Your names?” Piŋa asked them.

“You can call me Pula. They say my scar looks like the sun during an eclipse.” The woman’s voice was just as small and quiet as she was, and he had to strain to hear what she said.

“You can call me … Alik,” the man said, gesturing at the many small scars on the skin of his chest and back. He chuckled a little as the boy found himself looking at them again. “Get it? Little tears all over. Holes all over.” His smile held no humor in it. The boy frowned at the angry man. How was he supposed to work with a man who hated him? What was his problem? Why not just ask?

“Why are you so angry at me, Alik? Why work with me if you don’t like me?”

The man’s lip curled, but instead of answering, he looked at Savik, who crossed his arms, offering no support for either one of them. Alik looked back at the boy, pushing his shoulders up as he balled his fists. He stepped forward, making the boy lean away. “I don’t like how you smell, boy.”

The boy looked away quickly and bent to pick up his drum, trying to hide his nervousness. Well, that didn’t solve anything.

He paused for a moment, glancing at Savik and then back at Alik and Pula, wondering what exactly was going through their minds.

Right then he decided to do a different song and dance. He had planned to teach them a dance he had made about hunting walrus, which he was particularly fond of because of its complexity, and he wanted to impress everyone. But he changed his mind as he felt the open hostility radiate from Alik and the indifference from Pula. He needed something simpler. He adjusted the weight of the drum in his hands as his palms started to sweat. Mentally he went through the list of dances and songs he had created, searching for one that would fit this moment. His hands grazed the drum. The rough sinew binding scratched at the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. Even with all the practice he got making sinew here in the eagles’ nest, he still didn’t have enough patience to make it as smooth and strong as his mother could make it. His mother’s face popped into his mind; her gentle, patient smile warmed his heart, dispelling some of the nervousness. He missed the sound of her voice.

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