cussler.blueandgold-第60章

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　〃Wele　to　Tinook　Village；　population　one　hundred　and　sixty…seven；　most　of　them　related；〃　he　said　with　a　smile　as　dazzling　as　sunlight　on　new　snow。　〃My　name　is　Mike　Tinook。〃
　
　Tinook　didn't　appear　surprised　to　have　a　couple　of　strangers　drop　out　of　the　sky　to　visit　his　remote　village。　With　vast　distances　to　cover　Alaskans　will　fly　a　hundred　miles　just　to　have　breakfast。　Perhaps　it　has　something　to　do　with　the　scarcity　of　human　contact　outside　Anchorage；　but　most　Alaskans　spin　out　their　stories　about　how　they　came　north　within　five　minutes　of　making　an　acquaintance。　Mike　related　how　he　grew　up　in　the　village；　worked　as　an　airplane　mechanic　in　Anchorage；　and　came　back　home　to　stay。
　
　Austin　explained　they　were　with　the　National　Underwater　&　Marine　Agency。
　
　〃Had　you　figured　for　some　kind　of　government　guys；〃　Tinook　said　knowingly。　〃Too　clean　for　oil　men　or　hunters　and　too　sure　of　yourselves　to　be　tourists。　We　had　a　NUMA　team　drop　by　a　few　years　ago。　They　were　doing　research　in　the　Chukchi　Sea。　What　brings　you　to　the　Land　of　the　Midnight　Sun？〃
　
　〃We're　doing　sort　of　a　geological　survey；　but　I　must　confess　that　we're　not　having　much　success；〃　Austin　said。　〃We're　looking　for　a　point　of　land　that　sticks　out　into　the　water。　It's　shaped　like　an　eagle's　beak。〃
　
　Tinook　shook　his　head。　〃That's　my　plane　out　there。　I　do　a　lot　of　flying　when　I'm　not　fishing　or　helping　to　tend　the　reindeer　herd；　but　it　doesn't　ring　a　bell。　C'mon　up　to　the　store。　We　can　look　at　a　map。〃　They　climbed　a　rickety　staircase　to　the　plywood　building。　It　was　the　typical　Alaskan　general　store；　a　bination　of　grocery；　pharmaceutical；　hardware；　gift　shop；　and　wilderness　outfitter。　Customers　could　take　their　pick　from　insect　repellent；　canned　goods；　snowmobile　replacement　parts；　and　TV　videos。
　
　Tinook　checked　a　wall　map　of　the　area。　〃Nope。　Nothing　like　an　eagle's　beak。〃　He　scratched　his　head。　〃Maybe　you　should　talk　to　Clarence。〃
　
　〃Clarence？〃
　
　〃Yeah；　my　grandfather。　He　used　to　get　around　a　lot　and　likes　visitors。〃
　
　Austin's　eyes　glazed　over。　He　was　impatient　to　get　in　the　air　again。　He　was　trying　to　think　of　a　diplomatic　way　to　put　Tinook　off　without　hurting　his　feelings；　when　he　noticed　a　rifle　hung　on　the　wall　behind　the　counter。　He　walked　over　for　a　closer　look。　It　was　a　Carbine　Ml；　the　workhorse　rifle　carried　by　American　infantrymen　in　World　War　II。　He　had　seen　M1's　before；　but　this　was　in　exceptionally　mint　condition。
　
　〃Is　that　your　rifle？〃　he　asked　Tinook。
　
　〃My　grandfather　gave　it　to　me；　but　I　use　my　own　gun　for　hunting。　That　thing　has　got　quite　a　story　behind　it。　Sure　you　wouldn't　want　to　talk　to　Clarence？　Might　be　worth　your　while。〃
　
　Zavala　saw　Austin's　newfound　interest。　〃I　wouldn't　mind　stretching　my　legs　for　a　while　longer。　At　least　we　don't　have　to　worry　about　getting　home　before　dark。〃
　
　Joe's　point　was　well　taken。　Daylight　was　more　than　twenty　two　hours　long；　and　even　after　the　sun　set；　technically；　night　was　only　a　short　period　of　dusk。
　
　Mike　guided　them　along　a　muddy　street　past　more　shacks；　gangs　of　round…faced　children；　sleeping　huskies；　and　racks　where　crimson　strips　of　salmon　dried　in　the　sun。　He　went　up　to　the　door　of　a　shack　smaller　than　the　others　and　knocked。　Someone　inside　told　them　to　e　in。　They　stepped　into　the　one…room　house。　It　smelled　of　wood　smoke　and　something　meaty　cooking　on　a　camp　stove。　The　house　was　sparsely　furnished　with　a　bunk　bed　in　one　corner　and　a　table　covered　with　a　red…and…white　checkered　oilcloth。　A　man　who　looked　as　old　as　a　glacier　sat　at　the　table　carefully　painting　a　wooden　polar　bear　figure　about　six　inches　high。　Several　others　figures　of　wolves　and　eagles　had　been　painted　and　lined　up。
　
　〃Grandpa；　these　men　would　like　to　hear　the　story　about　your　rifle。〃
　
　Dark　Oriental　eyes　sparkled　with　intelligence　and　good　humor　from　a　face　creased　in　a　thousand　wrinkles。　Clarence　wore　dark…framed　glasses；　and　his　thick　silvery　hair　was　neatly　parted　on　one　side。　His　mouth　widened　in　a　grin　that　seemed　to　take　over　his　whole　jaw。　Although　he　must　have　been　in　his　eighties；　he　shook　hands　in　a　bone…crunching　grip　and　looked　as　if　he　could　still　wrestle　a　sea　lion　to　the　floor。　Yet　the　voice　that　should　have　been　amplified　by　the　powerful　frame　was　as　soft　as　wind…blown　snow。
　
　His　grandson　said；　〃I　have　to　go　back　to　the　shop。　I'll　have　the　plane　refueled　by　the　time　you　get　back。〃
　
　〃I　make　these　for　the　gift　shops　in　Anchorage；〃　the　old　man　said；　putting　the　polar　bear　and　paints　aside。　〃Glad　you　dropped　by。　You're　just　in　time　for　lunch。〃　He　indicated　a　couple　of　rickety　chairs；　and；　refusing　the　protests　of　his　guests；　he　spooned　the　stew　from　the　stove　pot　into　some　chipped　willow…pattern　china　bowls。　He　took　a　big　spoonful　as　if　to　show　there　was　no　harm　in　his　cooking。　〃How　is　it？〃
　
　Austin　and　Zavala　tentatively　sampled　the　stew　and　pronounced　it　quite　good。
　
　The　old　man　beamed　with　pleasure。
　
　〃Is　it　caribou？〃　Zavala　asked。
　
　The　old　man　reached　into　a　trash　bucket　and　pulled　out　a　can　of　Dinty　Moore　beef　stew。　
　
　　〃Mike's　a　good　boy；〃　Clarence　said。　〃He　and　his　wife　buy　me　stuff　so　I　won't　have　to　cook。　They　worry　that　I'm　lonely　since　my　wife　died。　I　like　visitors；　but　I　don't　want　to　bore　you　men。〃
　
　Austin　looked　around　the　room。　The　walls　were　decorated　with　primitive　harpoons　and　Eskimo　folk　art。　A　Norman　Rock　well　print　with　the　boy　sitting　in　the　dentist's　office　was　hung　in　congruously　next　to　a　fierce　walrus　mask。　There　were　family　pictures；　including　many　of　a　stout；　handsome　woman　who　could　have　been　the　old　man's　wife。　The　most　out…of…place　object　was　a　puter　tucked　in　the　corner。　Grandpa　Tinook　saw　Austin's　amused　gaze　and　said；　〃It's　amazing。　We've　got　the　satellite　so　the　kids　can　learn　about　the　rest　of　the　world。　I　can　talk　on　that　machine　with　anyone；　so　I'm　never　alone。〃
　
　Clarence　was　no　old　blubber…chewing　windbag；　Austin　deduced。　He　was　sorry　he　had　been　in　such　a　rush　to　avoid　meeting　him。　〃If　you　don't　mind；　we'd　very　much　like　to　hear　your　story；〃　he　said。
　
　Grandpa　Tinook　noisily　scooped　up　the　last　of　his　stew；　put　the　bowls　in　the　sink；　and　sat　down　again。　He　squinted　as　if　the　memory　were　hard　to　recall；　but　when　he　started　to　talk　it　was　clear　he　had　spun　this　tale　before。
　
　〃One　day　many　years　ago　I　was　out　hunting。　There　was　some　good　trout　and　salmon　fishing；　fox　to　trap；　and　herds　of　caribou。　I　always　got　something。　I　had　this　little　aluminum　skiff　and　a　fine　motor。　Got　me　around　pretty　good。　It　was　too　far　to　e　home　after　the　hunt；　so　I　used　to　stay　over　a　couple　of　nights　at　the　old　airfield。〃
　
　Austin　glanced　at　Zavala。　Alaska　is　dotted　with　airfields　hardly　worth　the　name。
　
　〃Where　was　this　airfield？〃　he　asked。
　
　〃Up　north　a　ways。　Left　over　from　the　Big　War。　They　used　to　ferry　planes　to　Russia　and　used　it　as　a　stopoff。　Blimps　there　used　to　look　for　subs。　Not　much　left。　There　was　a　hut　where　I　could　light　a　fire　and　keep　warm　and　dry。　I　could　store　game　and　smoke　it　there　'til　it　was　time　to　e　home。〃　
　
　　〃How　long　ago　was　that？'7
　
　　〃Oh；　fifty　years　ago　or　so。　My　memory　ain't　what　it　used　to　be。　I　remember　when　they　said　I　had　to　stop　going　there；　though。〃
　
　''171~y？〃
　
　The　old　man　nodded。　〃For　months　I　never　seen　anybody。　Then　one　day　two　men　e　by　in　a　plane　just　as　I'm　cooking　up　some　trout。　Hard…lookin'　white　men。　They　flash　their　badges；　say　they're　with　the　government　and　want　to　know　what　I'm　doing。　I　give　them　some　fish；　and　they're　a　lot　nicer。　They　say　there's　going　to　be　a　big　secret　at　the　base　and　I　can't　e　there　anymore。　But　they　will　buy　any　fresh　meat　and　fish　I　can　get　them。　One　of　them　gave　me　that　gun　you　saw　so　I　could　shoot　game。　I　took　them　lots　of　game　and　fish；　never　to　the　base；　though。　I'd　meet　them　halfway。〃
　
　〃Did　you　see　any　planes？〃

　
　〃Sure；　lots　ing　and　going。　Once　I　was　hunting　and　I　heard　one　that　sounded　like　a　hundred　rushing　rivers。　Big　as　this　whole　village　and　crazy　shape。〃
　
　〃What　kind　of　shape？〃
　
　He　went　to　the　wall　and　took　down　a　harpoon。　Touching　the　sharp　metal　point　with　his　finger；　he　said；　〃Something　like　this。〃
　
　Austin's　gaze　was　unwavering。