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Kalak of the Ice
"Kalak of the Ice" by Jim Kjelgaard. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
204 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1949
3 people are currently reading
93 people want to read
About the author
Jim Kjelgaard
106 books164 followersan American author of young adult literature.
Born in New York City, New York, Jim Kjelgaard is the author of more than forty novels, the most famous of which is 1945's "Big Red." It sold 225,000 copies by 1956 and was made into a 1962 Walt Disney film with the same title, Big Red. His books were primarily about dogs and wild animals, often with animal protagonists and told from the animal's point of view.
Jim Kjelgaard committed suicide in 1959, after suffering for several years from chronic pain and depression.
- Wikipedia -
Born in New York City, New York, Jim Kjelgaard is the author of more than forty novels, the most famous of which is 1945's "Big Red." It sold 225,000 copies by 1956 and was made into a 1962 Walt Disney film with the same title, Big Red. His books were primarily about dogs and wild animals, often with animal protagonists and told from the animal's point of view.
Jim Kjelgaard committed suicide in 1959, after suffering for several years from chronic pain and depression.
- Wikipedia -
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
December 30, 2022
A re-read of a book I read in high school by one of my favorite authors.
Loved this section of the book below. Very few authors equal the talent of Jim Kjelgaard when it comes to describing outdoor scenes:
"His tail stirred and his flukes moved slightly as he watched the things that were bearing down upon him. He was alert, but not frightened. Age and experience had taught him much, and the old whale knew that he could not run away from this danger. There were six in the herd of orcas, or killer whales, bearing down upon him. No one of the six was a third of the old whale's length or a tenth of his weight, but they were agile, savage things armed with rows of slashing teeth that would attack anything. Like sharks, their appetites were never satisfied; an orca might kill a dozen seals before it stopped hunting.
The six swam abreast, their big back fins cutting the water, and bore down upon the old whale like wolves charging an embattled caribou bull. The whale turned to face them. When they did not swerve, he smashed forward like a sixty-five-foot battering ram. The orcas anticipated his move, and streamed smoothly past, three on either side. Flanking the old whale, they closed in for the attack. An orca slashed like a wolf at the whale's lips and retreated. Another darted in, and another, each attacking the old whale's vulnerable lips.
The whale sounded, diving deep into the water and swimming as fast as he could go. But he did not flee with the blind terror of a younger animal. This whale was an experienced battler. Like an old wolf-stricken moose, he put his faith in strategy. Sea wolves that they were, the bloodthirsty orcas streamed after him. The whale went down and down. He knew this part of the sea as well as he knew all the rest. The pack ice here, because of constant currents and winds, was always in motion. Ice coming in from the sea ground at the pack, and when it could not force a way through it fought its way to the top. Heaped and twisted, this ice was more than a hundred and fifty feet thick, its bottom a maze of caverns and tunnels that varied from a few feet to several dozen yards in width.
With the attacking orcas in close pursuit, the whale swam into such a tunnel. He stopped suddenly. The whale had known, as the orcas had not, that he would find a narrow place in the winding tunnel. But the orcas did not care. Maddened now by the streams of blood that flowed from the whale, they pushed on relentlessly. They had never yet found anything they feared or anything that would not flee from them. Like smoothly cast spears they glided in to the attack.
The whale thrashed his flukes and flipped his huge tail. In that narrow tunnel he struck an orca every time he moved. Still gripped with blood lust, the killers bore in. But here they could not attack, for there was no room in which to maneuver; the whale's floundering body filled the tunnel. Flung against the ice wall with tremendous force, an orca quivered and turned over, white belly up. Two more, finally seeking escape, were smashed by the whale's tossing tail. The whale struggled still more furiously. When he finally stopped thrashing, there were no orcas left to attack him. All six had been smashed against the walls of the tunnel. It was as though a bull moose or caribou had maneuvered land wolves into a narrow canyon where they were unable to evade his striking hooves. The whale swam very slowly through the tunnel and out the other side.
The water behind him was red, and blood still streamed from the many savage wounds which the orcas had inflicted. But the old whale felt very little pain. He simply swam slower and slower, until all movement ceased. Only a trickle flowed from his bleeding wounds, and then even that stopped. The old whale had lived a long and good life in the sea. Even in his last battle, he had deported himself as befitted a creature of dignity and stature. Now at last the sea received him with proper respect.
The whale drifted slowly with the current for a long while. It was almost three weeks before a fierce storm snarled across the water, and strong waves finally deposited his body on the arctic shore."
Loved this section of the book below. Very few authors equal the talent of Jim Kjelgaard when it comes to describing outdoor scenes:
"His tail stirred and his flukes moved slightly as he watched the things that were bearing down upon him. He was alert, but not frightened. Age and experience had taught him much, and the old whale knew that he could not run away from this danger. There were six in the herd of orcas, or killer whales, bearing down upon him. No one of the six was a third of the old whale's length or a tenth of his weight, but they were agile, savage things armed with rows of slashing teeth that would attack anything. Like sharks, their appetites were never satisfied; an orca might kill a dozen seals before it stopped hunting.
The six swam abreast, their big back fins cutting the water, and bore down upon the old whale like wolves charging an embattled caribou bull. The whale turned to face them. When they did not swerve, he smashed forward like a sixty-five-foot battering ram. The orcas anticipated his move, and streamed smoothly past, three on either side. Flanking the old whale, they closed in for the attack. An orca slashed like a wolf at the whale's lips and retreated. Another darted in, and another, each attacking the old whale's vulnerable lips.
The whale sounded, diving deep into the water and swimming as fast as he could go. But he did not flee with the blind terror of a younger animal. This whale was an experienced battler. Like an old wolf-stricken moose, he put his faith in strategy. Sea wolves that they were, the bloodthirsty orcas streamed after him. The whale went down and down. He knew this part of the sea as well as he knew all the rest. The pack ice here, because of constant currents and winds, was always in motion. Ice coming in from the sea ground at the pack, and when it could not force a way through it fought its way to the top. Heaped and twisted, this ice was more than a hundred and fifty feet thick, its bottom a maze of caverns and tunnels that varied from a few feet to several dozen yards in width.
With the attacking orcas in close pursuit, the whale swam into such a tunnel. He stopped suddenly. The whale had known, as the orcas had not, that he would find a narrow place in the winding tunnel. But the orcas did not care. Maddened now by the streams of blood that flowed from the whale, they pushed on relentlessly. They had never yet found anything they feared or anything that would not flee from them. Like smoothly cast spears they glided in to the attack.
The whale thrashed his flukes and flipped his huge tail. In that narrow tunnel he struck an orca every time he moved. Still gripped with blood lust, the killers bore in. But here they could not attack, for there was no room in which to maneuver; the whale's floundering body filled the tunnel. Flung against the ice wall with tremendous force, an orca quivered and turned over, white belly up. Two more, finally seeking escape, were smashed by the whale's tossing tail. The whale struggled still more furiously. When he finally stopped thrashing, there were no orcas left to attack him. All six had been smashed against the walls of the tunnel. It was as though a bull moose or caribou had maneuvered land wolves into a narrow canyon where they were unable to evade his striking hooves. The whale swam very slowly through the tunnel and out the other side.
The water behind him was red, and blood still streamed from the many savage wounds which the orcas had inflicted. But the old whale felt very little pain. He simply swam slower and slower, until all movement ceased. Only a trickle flowed from his bleeding wounds, and then even that stopped. The old whale had lived a long and good life in the sea. Even in his last battle, he had deported himself as befitted a creature of dignity and stature. Now at last the sea received him with proper respect.
The whale drifted slowly with the current for a long while. It was almost three weeks before a fierce storm snarled across the water, and strong waves finally deposited his body on the arctic shore."
June 14, 2018
This one is about polar bears instead of dogs but is still a great animal story. I recently reread this and it held up pretty well over the 30+ plus years since I first read it.
June 18, 2014
I read this years ago but it is very very good!!!!
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews