"What's wrong?" asked Steve, the copilot of the stranded aircraft.
"That knife doesn't have a steel blade. And I don't recognize a lot of the words they're saying."
"Is that a bad thing?" asked Steve, confused.
Sarah smiled. "No, not at all. I think this is a more isolated group, not townsfolk out for a caribou hunt. They're likely from a distant village, where they speak a unique dialect."
"They probably know how to get to Churchill though. They've been hunting here for generations," he pointed out.
Sarah nodded. "I'm pretty sure they can help us get back, but first let's introduce ourselves, and explain the situation."
"Why don't we invite them inside?" suggested Steve.
After the visitors had been given the grand tour of the plane, Sarah took them into the cockpit. She frowned at their reaction, as did Doug and Steve.
"They act as if they've never seen technology, or tasted orange juice," marveled Doug.
Steve stared as the three men looked around. "Yeah... even the smallest villages get supplies. I wonder where they're from..."
Sarah stood up, and addressed the oldest of the three hunters.
"What did he say?" asked Doug.
"He knows of the place we want to go, and will take us there. We leave in the morning. It's hard to talk to them, but the basic words are the same..."
Doug grinned. "Great! I don't think it'll be more than a day's travel."
Before dawn, several hunters came with dogs and sleds. The weaker passengers were loaded into them, along with the supplies.
"Aren't we riding?" asked Steve.
"We're expected to walk if we can. They don't use lead dogs, they walk the teams," Sarah explained.
Steve frowned, but didn't object.
After an uneventful but tiring trip, they reached a small settlement by the ocean.
Doug swore under his breath, then looked at the cloudless sky. "Where's Churchill?!?!"
Sarah's eyes widened. "I think this is it."
"This is certainly where it should be," agreed Doug.
"What are you thinking?" asked Steve, looking at Sarah, whose main interest was the study of the Inuit culture.
"I'm not sure yet, but I have a feeling we're in the past. And I think these people are Dorset, maybe even Pre-Dorset," Sarah whispered in awe.
"What does that mean?" asked Doug.
"It means they're the ancestors of the people we know as Inuit. It also means we might be a very long way from home."
"What can we do?" asked Dan, the oil heater repairman, who was already looking more fit.
"I'm going to try to talk to the shaman. A settlement this big is sure to have one."
"Aren't they like witch doctors?" asked Dan.
Sarah nodded. "They're usually extremely observant and intelligent too. They use those skills to make it seem like they have connections to the spirit world."
After a welcoming feast, Sarah and Igaluk, the shaman, sat facing each other.
She told him what happened, to the best of her ability. Even the old man who claimed to talk to ghosts was skeptical about people flying in a winged sled that didn't need to be pulled, but he smiled and humored the young woman.
Igaluk's eyes sparked with recognition when she described the strange energy mixed in the aurora.
"How can we get home?" She asked, thankful that she had picked up the nuances of the ancient language so quickly.
Instead of telling her, Igaluk took a caribou rib bone, and scratched out the coastline, three full moons, and wavy lines inland.
"Can't we go back sooner?" she asked.
"No. Third full moon from the one that brought you. Same spot where you came here. You will go back to the time you left, nobody will miss you."
Sarah thanked him, then found Doug and Steve.
"We're stuck here for three months?" asked Doug.
"I'm just glad there's a way home," Steve said.
During their stay, the stranded group lived with and befriended the ancestors of the Inuit. Sarah in particular made lasting connections.
"I don't know if I can leave, Steve. I've been learning so much from Toklo. And he's the kindest, funniest man I've ever met. Honestly if it wasn't for my parents and brother, I'd stay without any regrets."
"You can't stay here forever, you belong back in the real world," Steve insisted.
"This world is just as real as our time," she reminded him.
"You know what I mean..."
"Yes I do, but I feel like this place is home."
"You can't stay," he repeated.
"I know, but if it weren't for my family I would... this place is like a dream come true for me."
On the big day, the group had many a sad goodbye. Perhaps the saddest was Toklo's parting words to his family. He had decided to return with Sarah.
A rough runway had been laboriously tramped out, and the plane patched up. Luckily the damages were minimal.
"It's time to see if this old bird can still fly," Doug said to his passengers. The grin on his face was infectious.
Igaluk, Toklo's family, and several others from the small community stood beside the runway waving as the plane rumbled to life.
They gasped as the big metal bird lifted into the air. Then the aurora began to swirl and crackle with that strange energy.
Doug headed straight towards it, and those on the ground stood in silent awe as the huge plane winked out of existence.
Soon they were circling modern day Churchill, all looking better for their three month hiatus from civilization.
Unable to radio for clearance, Doug confirmed visually that all was clear, then landed.
Bill from flight control rushed out onto the runway. "What's going on?"
"Sorry for not getting clearance to land, my radio and instruments are out."
Bill looked at the plane, which was badly battered. "What happened? You wrecked her in just a few minutes?!?!"
Doug chuckled. "It's a long story. I might even tell you one day, but you'd never believe it..."
Epilogue:
Toklo went back to the city with Sarah, and six months later they married. When she graduated (with honors) the two moved to the arctic, with their five month old son, Pakak.
The end!
Describe what you see:
I see a plane departing, in the dark. The Aurora Borealis is bright in the sky.
Describe what you feel:
I feel like this is the beginning of a great adventure!
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