Nanook Of The North – The Legend
It’s been said, that a long, long time ago, deep into the frozen tundra of the ever present, winter north lands, roamed an icy creature called Nanook, Nanook of the North. Although this story may be just a legend passed about from mouth to ear, generation to generation of the great Eskimo Tribes of the Arctic Circle, many believe in the awesome and fearful Nanook, still believe it to this day.
It is said that once upon a time, a fur trapper was hunting baby seals for the fur trade, up in the Arctic Circle. There were numerous fur trappers in the area but none who would venture this far North into the cold, into the night of winter, into the homeland of the awesome and fearsome-Nanook.
This particular fur trapper was mean, he was evil, he was treacherous, he was a bad man. Most who hunted the choice baby seals, did so for survival. I mean, a man’s gotta’ eat, right? But not this fur trapper. No. He hunted the baby seal for-pleasure. Duh duh duh dunnnn! The baby seal was small, tiny, teeny-weeny and it was white. It was a symbol amongst the great Eskimo Tribes, of goodness, of all that was right with the world. To them it was a sin to harm or damage the baby seals life or lifestyle in any way.
Well, this evil, bad fur trapper one very cold, very dark day, in the midst of a driving snowy, blizzard, happened upon, stumbled upon, came upon even, a primitive Ig-a-loo. It was made of frozen blocks of ice with a short tunnel like entrance. It had what appeared to be a chimney venturing straight up from the top of it. It had what looked like trails of smoke rising above it a foot or two but, it was so dark, so frigid, so- so cold that, the very plumes of smoke were frozen! We are talking cold here.
Well, the fur trapper happened upon this Ig-a-loo and to his delight found that there were a least a dozen baby seals huddled up and against the Ig-a-loo for the little warmth it exuded. The little, tiny, teeny-weeny baby seals were snuggled together apparently happy and content in this, their chosen, Godgiven environment when suddenly – duh duh duh dunnn. The fur trapper picked out the choicest, the teeniest-weeniest, whitest baby seal and….
He started into whipping on this most favorite of baby seals with, with, yes with, a lead filled snowshoe!
Oh man, oh boy, oh brother, was he in for it now. From inside the Ig-a-loo rose a great roar, a great cry, a great, um, shout of disapproval, no more like a great shout of anger, yes, of rage even. It was the fearsome, the awesome, the nostalgic and great one, about whom Frank Zappa sung, Nanook of the North – The Legend!!!
Oh my, was he mad, angry even.
Nanook did not bother with exiting from the Igaloo tunnel, no he rose up and burst through the sides, the roof, the frozen plumes of smoke even, and the blocks of ice crumbled into miniscule grains of frozen “icelets”. Upon seeing the evil fur trapper whipping upon his favorite tiny, teeny-weeny, white baby seal, he roared with rage – Roarrr!
This froze the felonious, fearful fur trapper in his fur trapping tracks and he dropped the baby seal. He had his arms outstretched, trying to make his get away but to no avail. Nanook bent down, he reached down, he then scooped out, a generous mitten full of the deadly- yellow snow. Yes! The deadly yellow snow from right there where the huskies go.
He then proceeded to rub the yellow snow into the eyes of the frozen in place fur trapper until he stood there, with his arms outstretched and said, “I can’t see, do do do do doooo, I can’t see-e, oh do do do dooo”.
It was at that precise moment that the fur trapper began to break apart and crumble, disintegrating into the ice and snow of the Tundra.
Meanwhile, back at the Ig-a-loo, as the fur trapper disintegrated the Ig-a-loo integrated, that is, it miraculously re-assembled itself, frozen smoke plumes and all, the fearsome, the mighty, the all knowing all seeing, Nanook, seeing that his group of baby seals were safe and huddling back around the Igaloo, he picked up his favorite, tiny, teeny-weeny, little baby seal, re-entered his re-assembled yet ever still, humble abode, and rested.
I do attest to this day, on whatever day it is, that this story in time, is a true and accurate account of these events and can be verified if not justified by the meaningless, meandering melodies, of the aforementioned song’s, the infamous and now deceased, Frank Zappa.