Excerpt
Willard Outwater leans into his binoculars, pointing across the Kobuk River toward a distant shimmer of movement. Everyone turns, suddenly attentive.
“Bulls?” asks Clarence Wood, shading his eyes. Willard relaxes and smiles. “Just small ones,” he says. We lean back; there’s a fresh pot of coffee, a crystalline August afternoon, and no hurry. Soon it will be time to eat. The aroma of caribou soup and roasting ribs wafts through camp.