Origin: A Genetic History of the Americas

Chapter 8
A thousand years after his ancestors first came to their homeland, a man
stood on the coast of the Arctic Ocean looking out across the sea ice in the
direction of the lands they left behind. In that particular moment, however,
the man was far less concerned with the history of Thule migration than he
was with the polar bear walking directly toward us.
This was not by accident; the man was our site’s Bear Guard. i He had
allowed me to drive with him up the coast a good distance to intercept the
polar bear before it could reach our team of archaeologists. Unfortunately
for us, the Bear Guard’s attempt to intimidate the animal by standing on the
seat of his four-wheeler, with hands raised above his head in imitation of
another, bigger bear, failed to convince this particular predator—one of the
largest bear species in the world. As it stalked closer, the Bear Guard
lowered his binoculars and sat back down on the four-wheeler.
“Time to go.”
I agreed wholeheartedly.
He reversed the four-wheeler and began to accelerate along the coastline
in the opposite direction of the archaeologists’ worksite. The bear likewise
changed directions and trailed after us.
“He’s hunting us.”
I didn’t trust myself to reply. I was simultaneously impressed by the
casualness of his tone and somewhat guilty about what my mother would
say if she knew I was “helping” the Bear Guard, instead of staying back
with the archaeologists, where it was safe. But we hadn’t found any burials
yet that day, and the ride-along was a way to feel useful while the high
school students dug shovel test pits.
The high schoolers were digging these shovel test pits as part of a
critical collaboration between the residents of Utqiaġvik and an
archaeological research team of graduate students and professionals led by