Keith Edgar was a writer of adventure novels and stories in the 1940s. We don’t really know much else about him. He wrote seven novels for Canada’s Bell Paperbacks including two Northerns: The Kunwak Treasure (1946) and Arctic Adventure (1949). He also wrote for the Pulps including Argosy, Adventure and Short Stories. He wrote two tales of the Arctic for Dorothy McIlwraith at Short Stories: “Check-Out Flight” (October 25, 1946) and “The Mountie and the Sorcerer” (May 1949).
This last one is a strange Northern in the best tradition. Mark Bristow is a young man in the Royal Canadian Mountie Police. He is stationed in the North and becomes a trusted friend to the Inuit people. After a stint in the Air Force during the War, he returns a wiser and sadder man, having lost the love of his life in London’s Blitz. He is now Sgt. Bristow, in charge of his post.
During the coldest part of January, an old Inuit man named Natsuk appears at the post. He brings dire warning of an uprising brewing among the Hirmiut because of a shaman in Natsuk’s village. He tells of one person being murdered. Constable MacGregor offers, almost begs, to go but Mark knows he must, because he speaks the language. The next day he heads for Natsuk’s village.
When Mark arrives, after a wonderful day sledding with his dogs, he finds the hunters of the tribe awaiting him with spears. The usual Inuit hospitality is lacking. Usually a visitor would get a crowd of admirers, an igloo build for him and all his needs met.
Then he meets the shaman.:
“The shaman was a stocky Eskimo dressed in the finest furs. The hood of his parka was trimmed with rare wolverine, its tribal swallow-tail and sleeve cuffs edged with white fox, the sealskin mittens and boots lavishly decorated. His oily black hair hung down over heavily-lidded mongolian eyes that glittered with animosity. He was not young, and yet not old, with a stringy fringe of beard on his chin, and his confident swagger bespoke an authority unusual among the communal Innuit. This, then, was the sorcerer with whom he must deal.”
The shaman tries to get his followers, the young hunters, to kill him there. Mark calls his bluff and berates the Hirmiut for their poor hospitality. He starts making his own igloo. The old hunters come and help. One of them is named Tulugak. He explains that the shaman has ordered the Hirmiut to kill the old and infirm. The RCMP have forbidden the practice, instead supplying the Inuit with food. One of the people who has been killed was Tulugak’s wife. Mark figures the shaman was cast out of some other tribe and is trying to take over.
Mark feeds the old hunters, gives them gifts of tobacco. He tells them to order the shaman out. They won’t but inform him of a meeting later, where he can address the shaman himself. They leave. Mark changes into his red Mountie uniform, knowing it will help him impress the crowd. He places a bottle of ether in his pocket as well as his flashlight. He leaves his igloo for the large communal hut, not an igloo but a hide-covered shelter. Mark wonders about this since it is not the Inuit way.
Entering, he is again threatened with death, and again bluffs his way clear. The shaman says he will visit the Moon and bring back messages from the Spirit. He has everyone cover their eyes. Weird noises fill the air and for a moment the thrill of supernatural terror begins to nibble at Mark’s mind. He turns on his flashlight and sees the shaman using a whistle on a string to make the sound. Mark realizes the hide hut was necessary to make the room dark enough for his pseudo-supernatural tricks.
It is time for Mark to make his play. He breaks up the shaman’s act and does one of his own. He holds the glass of ether high over his head. He tells the Inuit that it is his Spirit, a more powerful spirit than the shaman’s. He selects Tulugak to be his accomplice. He doses the man with ether, knowing that when he awakens he will tell the crowd of what he saw. The shaman is getting ready to try again when Tulugak awakens. He tells how the white man’s spirit told him to cast out the shaman. Mark has won. The shaman leaves in handcuffs.
Edgar has a good knowledge of the Inuit and their environment. Some Pulp writers don’t do any research and it shows. Unfortunately, as we have seen in other strange Northerns (and African adventure tales too), we have the white man who fools the childlike natives with a trick. This lack of respect is a common Pulp attitude. I would almost prefer a story in which magic is real.
