The Globetrotters Page 6

  ‘Come on, now!’ The coach boomed above the wind to the laggers still trying to grab a last mouthful from the mat of sedges. ‘Your baby fat will keep you going for now, troopers. But your slow wits will be your end.’

  He scanned the area as all the young caribou gathered around him. Another large caribou herd flowed like a river over the hills. It melted away towards the northernmost edge of the Rocky Mountains, which separated the boreal forest in the south of the Arctic Refuge from the coastal plains in the north, where they were headed. The coach would make them join these other herds as soon as their training was over.

  ‘So it’s a quiz. Four of you will qualify for the semifinals, and two for the finals. Snort if you know the answer. Don’t speak before I ask you to, unless you want to be disqualified. Indiscipline is as bad as a wrong answer! Am I clear?’

  The caribou snorted in reply.

  Hudhud mumbled, ‘I have to find the answer …’

  ‘Yes, to all his questions, correctly,’ said Kilkila.

  ‘No, I must find one answer, the answer … to a question I can’t remember …’

  ‘Now is not the time to lose your marbles, bro.’ Kilkila looked at Hudhud sternly. ‘Keep your wits about you.’

  The coach asked the first question. ‘Why do we travel all the way to the coastal plains to calve?’

  Ghazaal, standing next to Rudolph, gave him a slight nudge and he snorted in surprise.

  ‘Yes, Red Nose!’ The coach turned towards him.

  Rudolph’s legs turned as weak as melted ice. ‘I … well, Coach … it is b-because the c-cows feel a c-calming effect by the s-sea … c-calving … c-calming … See?’

  ‘NIN-COM-POOP!’ Coach Clicks thundered.

  A few other caribou started giggling and when Ghazaal snorted, the coach turned towards her.

  ‘High-quality and abundant grazing options, optimal insect relief and a low number of predators,’ Ghazaal said without pausing.

  The large caribou nodded in approval. ‘This was just a test question. Now the quiz starts, troopers. Attention! Attention!’

  It was not long before the preliminary round was over and there were four semi-finalists. And soon the two finalists remained as everyone had expected— Ghazaal and Hudhud.

  ‘Best of five questions now. No snorting any more, just grunt out the answers. But not before I have completed the question. Am I clear?’

  Ghazaal and Hudhud snorted.

  ‘I said no snorting now! Am I clear?’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ both said together.

  ‘Good. Step in front,’ the coach commanded.

  Silence fell upon the gathering as the coach fired the first question. ‘How many kilos of food can an adult caribou eat daily in the summer?’

  ‘Over five kilograms!’ said Hudhud.

  ‘Correct. How many birds—’

  ‘Around 180 species!’ Ghazaal chipped in.

  ‘Disqualified. You didn’t let me complete the question. You get to answer now,’ the coach said, turning towards Hudhud. ‘How many birds migrate every year to the tundra for the marshes?’

  ‘Millions.’ Hudhud’s smile went from ear to ear.

  ‘Correct. Our antlers are the second-largest among any living deer. Whose are the largest?’

  ‘Moose!’ Ghazaal yelled, all jittery.

  ‘Correct. And some of our lady deer have antlers too, though smaller than the gents. The only lady deer to have antlers in the world. Okay, next question:We are the only mammals who can see which wavelength of light?’

  ‘Ultraviolet!’ Ghazaal had started to shuffle from side to side. ‘We can clearly see white fur and urine in white snow, which for other mammals, like humans, is impossible to see!’

  ‘Correct. But keep it short,’ the coach reproached. ‘How much blood do we lose to biting insects every week we spend in the tundra?’

  ‘One litre!’ both Hudhud and Ghazaal cried together.

  ‘Hmm … three all. We have a draw.’

  The coach walked up and down, his knees clicking. ‘Okay, so one last question to decide the winner.’ He halted and looked at them as the others waited with bated breath. Ghazaal looked as if she were ready to jump and Hudhud didn’t even move his head as mosquitoes feasted on his blood.

  ‘Who hunts us, but loves us too?’

  There was silence.

  Not finding the correct answer, Ghazaal started to mumble the names of their predators. ‘Grey wolves, brown bears, Arctic foxes …’

  Hudhud joined in a drone. ‘Wolverines, golden eagles who snatch calves, polar bears near the sea …’

  ‘Tsk tsk.’ Coach Clicks looked from one to the other. ‘This challenge is a draw,’ he declared.

  ‘But …’ Ghazaal looked vexed. ‘What is the correct answer?’ She almost tripped on a rock as she took a step forward in indignation. She always tripped on rocks.

  Coach Clicks paused for a moment before he said, ‘Aboriginals.’

  ‘You mean the Gwich’in, the Inuit … and other native humans who live in the Arctic?’ Ghazaal was aghast.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘But they have been hunting us for thousands of years, Coach!’

  ‘Yes, we have helped keep these tribes alive since the Stone Age. They still depend on us for tools, food, clothes and shelter. But they revere us too. For without us, there will be no them.’

  ‘What good has their respect done us, Coach? They still kill us!’ one of the young caribou said in a hoarse voice.

  Another added, ‘Some of them domesticated reindeer 3000 years back and have been farming us to serve them as beasts of burden.’

  ‘These aboriginals do not kill us mindlessly,’ Coach Clicks said in a softer tone. ‘They do so only for their survival. They follow their traditional practices, limit the number they hunt and even restrict selling our meat.’

  ‘How considerate,’ Ghazaal muttered.

  ‘Tell me, how would we survive if we made friends with grass? Or reindeer lichen? And you still love them, right?’ The coach paused and looked at his students. No one answered. ‘Exactly. You know, other humans are not the same. They want to drill our calving grounds on the coast to get oil! The coastal land of the Beaufort Sea … the land of our birth, where our forebears have been going for tens of thousands of years to give birth. It is the small tribe of Gwich’in who is fighting with the lords of their United States to protect it.’ Coach Clicks moved his slab of a jaw up and down as he spoke. ‘Where will we go if these aboriginals don’t fight for us?’

  The students started to nod in understanding.

  ‘So anyway, this challenge is a draw.’ The coach turned to lead the group ahead.

  ‘NO!’ A thin voice made him stop. Everyone turned towards its source. ‘Th-this is the w-wrong a-answer …’ Rudolph bleated like a calf and ran away.

  Coach Clicks looked at him curiously before shrugging and resuming the onward journey. ‘As the Old Crow flies!’

  The surprised students began following him.

  ‘What came over Red Nose?’ Kilkila asked, cantering alongside Hudhud.

  ‘His mother was killed by an aboriginal,’ Hudhud informed him.

  ‘That figures … Anyway, you did well, Hudhud. A draw is not bad. Now let’s wait for the next challenge.’

  ‘Ghazzzzaal will win …’ the mosquito suddenly buzzed in Hudhud’s ear.

  ‘Shut up or I’ll kill you!’ Hudhud flicked his ears.

  ‘Ah ha ha … Why don’t you try, antlered gypssssy?’ the leader buzzed and bit Hudhud as other mosquitoes joined in, laughing.

  Over the next two days, the young caribou ambled, trotted and galloped through the Brooks Range in the tundra, the land of the midnight sun. Rugged peaks towered over them and glacial streams braided down the hills. Marmots, Arctic hares, ground squirrels, lemmings and pikas ran away from the passing herd, but didn’t pay them any heed when they foraged. The Arctic foxes eyed them warily but there were no calves for them to hunt. Every time a few students
would stray, tempted by dwarf Arctic birches or dwarf blueberries to munch on, the coach would sound a warning to be on the lookout for the killers—bears and wolves. Plateaus and low mountains rolled beneath their hooves as they pushed on. The treks were long and exhausting, punctured by short rests and lessons by Coach Clicks.

  ‘Hrrrmph … Hurry up, troopers! Move it, move it!’ The coach would stand on the side and urge the little herd of students to carry on and travel forty-five to fifty kilometres every day. He wanted them to complete the journey by the start of June. ‘You can graze and build up your fat reserves for the winter when we reach the coastal plains. For now, run, run, run!’

  They crossed wide, turbulent rivers and lakes and would have to cross ocean inlets as they neared the coast. Once they crossed over from the woody tundra into the barren tundra, they would have to reach the coast by treading the deep valleys created by drainage flowing into the Beaufort Sea from the mountain slopes.

  One of the most remote, coldest and harshest biomes on earth, the tundra was alive with life in the summer. Brown bears could be found trying to fish and hunt and eat as much as they could to sustain their eight-monthlong winter hibernation. Hudhud was also awaiting the spectacle of millions of migratory birds nesting on the north slope. At times, their chirping was deafening. They fed on the explosion of insects in the bogs. He couldn’t wait to see the bowhead whales and seals too once they reached the sea. Such wondrous animals! The long journey to the coastal plains was worth all the effort.

  ‘Hey, did you see that, Rudolph?’ Kilkila pointed at a snowy owl flying away with a lemming in her talons.

  But Rudolph just looked around, wretched and lost.

  ‘Did you know we can outrun a human even when we are just a day old?’ Hudhud told Rudolph to cheer him up.

  ‘Yep, what’s more, we can stand just one hour after birth! Have you seen the human babies fumble for a year before they stand up? And we can outrun their Olympic runner any day!’ Kilkila grinned.

  ‘We can, c-can’t we?’ Rudolph said nervously, the spot on his nose redder than ever.

  ‘And don’t pay any heed to Ghazaal. Have you seen her tripping on rocks?’

  ‘There is s-something about her and r-rocks, isn’t there?’ Rudolph managed a half-smile.

  Kilkila and Hudhud nodded imperceptibly at each other and smiled as they ran alongside Rudolph.

  On the third day, the coach halted near a ridge and asked them to forage on a particularly good patch of grass. Glorious purple wild flowers were scattered around the grassy hill, on the other side of which was a steep drop. The expanse of the treeless tundra shone a pinkish gold in the evening light.

  The thought of finding the answer gnawed on Hudhud’s mind. Absently, he ambled towards the slope, trying to figure out what the question was. The wind was stronger here, dispersing the clouds of mosquitoes with its hollow rumbling. Nanook, a short, stout caribou from his class, stood chomping alone near the edge of the slope, his back towards Hudhud. Nanook was the weird one, always aloof, always narrating some odd fact. Hudhud would have slipped away to avoid an encounter with Nanook but he halted on seeing something move near the ground. A stocky black-and-brown bearlike creature was approaching the lone Nanook from the rear. A wolverine!

  The warning shout stuck in Hudhud’s throat. Nanook, standing right at the edge, would get startled and slip down. So he had to think of another plan. The wolverine was preparing to launch her attack when Hudhud ran and hit her with his antlers. She turned and rasped at Hudhud, who, taking a step back, lost his balance. He slipped down the slope, and the ground below rushed up to meet him. He shut his eyes and … thud! He’d landed on a flat grassy plateau just a few feet below. He looked down at the steep drop, silently thanking his luck, got up with a grunt and walked up slowly on shaky legs.

  ‘Bravo, Ghazaal!’ Coach Clicks’ voice and the faint smell of wild flowers greeted him before he hauled himself up to the flat ground. ‘You raised the alarm in time!’

  Ghazaal stood with the caribou herd gathered around a trembling Nanook.

  ‘Th-thank you, Ghazaal. If-if you had not raised the alarm for others to come to my rescue, the wolverine would have hurt me … or worse, killed me by pushing me down the slope.’ He stopped to take a long breath and tried to regain his composure. ‘Wolverines generally attack newborn calves or birthing cows or … infirm adults. Considering I am not the former two, does it mean I am an infirm adult?’

  Ghazaal cleared her throat. ‘Aw, you’re welcome, Nanook! What are classmates for?’ She walked away with graceful steps and winked at Hudhud as she passed him. He was sure she had seen the whole thing.

  ‘All said and done, this Ghazaal has a good eye for sensing danger,’ Kilkila said as the coach told them to start their descent from the hill.

  ‘That’s nonsense, Kila! You know—’

  Kilkila cut him short. ‘Come on, Hudhud. I’m not too hot on the idea of Ghazaal being a hero either, but let’s give credit where it’s due.’

  Hudhud gulped down his words as the mosquitoes laughed in his ears.

  Soon the herd was in the valley by an icy-cold river splashing away at the banks. This was the largest and fastest flowing river they had come across.

  ‘It is a day full of possibilities …’ Coach Clicks stood on a flat rock by the gushing waters. ‘What is it that we have to cross just before we reach our summer pastures?’

  ‘A delta?’ Nanook answered.

  ‘That’s right, trooper! And you have to prepare for it. The second challenge this week is to swim across this river faster than anyone else.’

  The herd eyed the river warily while the coach continued. ‘The last one you crossed was only kneedeep and you could all run across it. Not this one, troopers! You need to impress me with your swimming skills this time!’

  The students grunted their reply—all except Rudolph, who stood looking at the waters, terrified.

  ‘Red Nose … the silent one, are you?’ Coach Clicks gave Rudolph a withering look. ‘I wish you were as silent when you napped. Your snores sound like fighting ducks!’

  Some students guffawed as they lined up on the bank.

  Coach Clicks divided the herd into three groups so that he could keep an eye on all the caribou. On the coach’s cue, the first group rushed in and began their swim in the fast currents. Being strong swimmers, they could swim at a speed of ten kilometres per hour. Coach Clicks shouted his commands from the bank. The first one to emerge was a slender, willowy caribou they called Reed. He got to the shore, puffing, and looking too pleased with himself. Kilkila managed to drag himself out after him.

  ‘Go!’ the coach bellowed to the next group. Ghazaal was in the river before the others and swam like a duck with her head held high above the water. And sure enough, she was the first one to get out on the other shore, making even better time than Reed.

  Hudhud and Rudolph were in the last batch of students to cross the river. The freezing waters bit Hudhud as he felt them with his hooves.

  ‘I am certain I can beat Ms Snotty Swimmer—you’ll see!’ Hudhud turned confidently towards Rudolph. But his smile vanished upon seeing his companion’s face.

  Rudolph’s face puckered up and he was about to cry when the coach barked, ‘Go!’

  The students went headlong into the waters. Hudhud turned and saw Rudolph dither for a moment and then get carried away with the group of advancing caribou.

  The glacial cold waters made Hudhud gasp but he swam in the teeth of the river. There was no one ahead of him. On the shore he spotted Kilkila shouting encouragement and Ghazaal looking annoyed as he was making better time than her. He would win by a considerable margin. Hudhud almost smiled at her through his labours, when he heard a terrified shout for help.

  Instinctively, he turned around, and saw Rudolph, carried a little way away by the currents, struggling to swim. The coach shouted something from the other bank and Rudolph began to paddle again. So Hudhud resumed swimming, but there was ye
t another call for help. Coach Clicks jumped in the waters this time and swam at top speed towards Rudolph. He was soon by his side and nudging him forward with his snout. Hudhud came out of the water with the others, all looking at the coach coax Rudolph into crossing the river.

  Everyone’s gaze was fixed on the two of them, except Ghazaal’s. She smiled smugly at Hudhud.

  ‘NIN-COM-POOP!’ the coach thundered as he came out dripping after Rudolph. ‘Such a burly caribou afraid of water! And what do you expect me to do next? Teach you potty manners?’ The coach fumed as he crossed through the herd of students, his knee clicking audibly among the group of silent spectators. ‘And yes,’ he turned, ‘today’s winner is Ghazaal.’

  Kilkila wanted to protest, but Hudhud stopped him with a nudge of his wet antler. Ghazaal bent her knee and bowed, though there was no ovation. She grinned at Hudhud like a cat and trotted after the coach.

  ‘As if she was not bent out of shape already.’ Kilkila grunted. He went on as they moved forward. ‘This one was unfair …’

  ‘What is fair, anyway?’ Nanook came running to their side. ‘The permafrost, the layer of frozen soil and plants that extends 450 metres below ground, which makes our tundra ecosystem unique in the world is melting much more than it should due to global warming caused by humans. Is that fair?’ He humph-ed and trotted away.

  Kilkila burst into laughter. ‘Is this one for real?’

  Rudolph, still wet and shivering, came straight towards Hudhud. ‘Bro, m-my bad …’

  ‘When are you going to rid yourself of this water phobia, bro?’ Kilkila snapped.

  ‘I am s-sorry. Really.’

  ‘Ghazaal one … One draw … If you win the next one, you’ll stand first with her this week.’ Kilkila kept pace with Hudhud, who had picked up speed. ‘You just have to—’