Lately I've been held captive by what I thought would be a short children's book with pictures and all, only to find the story had a life of its own. So instead of preparing a blog, I thought I'd give you an idea of what it's about (excluding editing)> So here goes:
Foreword
Being
a history buff involves a great deal of research and verification of just about
everything. It’s a lot more complicated than it seems at the outset. Had I
known where this journey would take me, I might not have embarked on it.
I
had no idea that my ancestor whose namesake I am was any sort of somebody, but
a certain set of circumstances involving Bismark and military service set the
whole business in motion. Epp had after
all, studied for years at the university to become an archeologist, and had no
interest in picking up a gun and pursuing a military career. That wasn’t his
way or the way of his people and he’d have nothing to do with it. Most of his
people, beckoned by Katherine the Great went to Russia to drain those swamps as
Epp had done in his young life in the Danzig area and he had no stomach for
that either. So he pulled up stakes and left the Danziger swamps, going
directly to Greenland where he thought it would be warm and inviting.
BLOODY
HELL! It was colder there than any place he’d ever been. Well certainly Bismark
wouldn’t go looking for him there! Somebody with a strange sense of humor had
named this place, obviously to draw people there instead of . . . Iceland. Aha!
That was it! Some Icelander had fabricated the name to draw people there
instead of Iceland. Epp couldn’t see the advantage of that but then them
Icelanders were a strange and adventurous lot anyway.
Having
landed in Greenland ill equipped, Epp decided to make the best of it. There
were a few people living there, mostly Eskimos they were called. They saw Epp’s
plight and gave him shelter and warm clothing so he wouldn’t freeze to death.
They were very sociable and kind to him, probably as much because he looked so
different than they did as their generous and gregarious nature.
Being
the sort of man he was, Epp was soon well clothed in skins and furs, had
learned to eat the kinds of food they offered and was even beginning to learn
the language, albeit haltingly. He went hunting and fishing with the men and
relished in the feasts and social gatherings inside their igloos. In fact, they
even taught him to make his own. Life up here in the north was about as good as
it gets if you learn to adapt. And life was good for Epp.
It
was on one of these fishing and hunting trips that Epp first learned of the
Square Bear. The men were ice fishing while they waited for seals to come up
for air. Well you had to multi – task to provide enough food for the village.
One of the things that really impressed Epp was the series of rituals the
Eskimos performed in their preparation to hunt and fish, asking permission from
the fish and the sea to provide food for their table and giving thanks for its
and their provisions. It wasn’t really dissimilar to what he was accustomed to although
they were more directly speaking to the animals as though they were kindred
spirits. They were it seemed, his kind of people after all.
After
several days of fishing and sealing a sudden nervousness arose among the dogs
in the team. It was almost imperceptible but they were fidgeting nervously,
looking into the distance to the west. The Eskimos immediately began hurriedly
hauling up their nets out of the ice holes in a panic state. Moving quickly
like a well practiced team, they dumped loads of the fish in their sleds,
leaving a large amount behind before taking off to the east in almost fearful
fashion.
The
only thing Epp could get out of them was that they had to get out of there
before the giant Square Bear caught up with them. They hoped the food they’d
left for him would be enough to keep him distracted while they got away to
their home with what they had left. The dogs were straining at their harnesses
as they dashed into the blowing snow. ‘Good’ said the hunters. The snow would cover
their tracks and the bear(s) would be unable to track them. They would at least
come home with enough food for the village.
Epp
didn’t understand any of this at all. He’d have to find out more. Asking
questions as they raced across the snow was useless. Dogs and men were fleeing as
if for their lives and had no interest in explaining anything. It was a full
day of this frantic travel before they started to slow down somewhat, following
the dogs who seemed to know where home was in this blowing wind. Finally they
stopped to eat a cold bite silently and then carry on into the night. The group
traveled on in this way for three days and nights before reaching the welcoming
committee at their home.
Things
started to come undone at the welcoming feast when all were settled in and had
eaten something. The hunters told of the dogs’ sensitivity about the legendary Square
Bears and their flight. They were fortunate in having the wind to cover the
sled tracks on the way home. That way they would never be found and the Square Bears
would have enough food to distract them from giving chase.
Epp
tried to enquire about the great Square Bears. Something was bothering him
about this whole story. But the people would have none of it. They were far too
excited about the adventure to pay any attention to him. He had so many
questions and absolutely no answers.
Having
spent two whole days and nights eating and drinking and storytelling, the band
of people finally got weary and went to sleep one by one without a hint of
answering any of Epp’s questions. He himself had slept intermittently and was
kept awake by the haunting question. There was obviously a great mystery here
that no one would speak about. It must be some kind of taboo. Well you don’t
become an archeologist to just accept what you don’t understand, and that’s a
fact. What you do is to find out for yourself.
And
that’s where the adventure of a lifetime began for Dr. Victor Epp.
