Life with the Esquimaux/Volume 1/Chapter XVII
CHAPTER XVII.
The following day, May 21st, 1861, Ebierbing and Mingumailo returned from their deer-hunt. They had been successful, having shot with a rifle of mine three deer, one of which was lost, and the other two were secured. It appeared that Ebierbing first shot one of a group of eight which they came across. It struggled and fell before he could approach the spot, but rose again and ran away. In a moment more, however, he managed to shoot another, and Mingumailo a third. Thus was secured to us several hundred pounds of fresh meat—venison.
The deer were killed high up in the mountains, and the two hunters had to carry the carcases (portions at a time) a distance of two miles down to the sea-ice, where they made a cache by piling on heavy stones. What they could carry of it to the ship they did, and all of us on board had an excellent feast.
About this time we heard that some Innuits had arrived at Sampson's settlement from the "Sekoselar" mentioned in a note at page 186. The news made me still more anxious to proceed on my exploring trip, but various causes tended to prolong my delay, and, even when ready for the excursion, I was unable to proceed farther than a day's journey.
The Esquimaux are good as guides, as companions, as hunters and purveyors of food, but it is impossible to place any great dependence upon them in keeping faith as to time or one's wishes on a journey. They will do just as they please; and if aught is seen that may serve them for food, they will away in chase, no matter how much delay is thereby occasioned in a white man's enterprise, or however great the loss and inconvenience. In my case, absolutely dependent upon them for aid in exploring, I could do nothing but exercise my patience to the fullest degree. Hence it was not until the 27th of May that I was able to start on another trip to the waters of Frobisher Bay.
At that season of the year, travelling over the ice and snow-covered land by day was almost impossible. The slush and the numerous pools of water upon the former rendered a passage not only very difficult, but often dangerous; and, upon the land, the fatigue occasioned was more than could be well endured. Night, therefore, was chosen for our journeys, unless occasion required us to continue on during the day.
Accordingly, at 10 p.m. of the 27th of May I started from the ship with dogs and sledge, after having my outfit well attended to by Tookoolito. She was unable to accompany her husband, who had joined my company. The rest of my companions were two Innuit men and two women, one of them being Punnie, and the other a beautiful young woman called An-nu-tik-er-tung, wife of Kus-se-e-ung. Myself and the two women led the way, and in about an hour arrived where the upper village had been during the winter. Here we stopped to collect various things belonging to the Innuits who were with me, and which they had left there when departing for Frobisher Bay. We also stopped at another spot not far off, and collected tent-poles, coverings, kia frames, buckets, skins, &c. making a very considerable addition to our already heavy load. It was an hour and a half past midnight when we again started, but our foot travel was now good, the best of the season, the ice being firm during the night.
During the walk I had an interesting conversation with Ebierbing, who, among other things, told me of the great price the Sekoselar Innuits were willing to give for any articles of iron. A small piece of good iron, suitable for a spear-head, would procure a seal or tuktoo jacket from them, and with a needle one could purchase a deerskin. The Sekoselar Innuits can only obtain iron occasionally, when a communication is had with natives living on the coast. They still use bone needles, bows, and arrows.
As we neared the land on the opposite side of Field Bay the sun was tipping the mountains with red. It was then nearly half-past 2 a.m. and I also noticed that clouds were hugging some of the high lands. This indicated a coming storm. At 3·45 a.m. we passed from the bay to the main land, and now it began to blow strongly from the south-west. I selected the lee side of some rocks and took several compass bearings, then proceeded on my way alone, the rest of my party, with the sledge, having gone on before. I overtook them at the summit of Bayard Taylor Pass, and then together we began the descent on the other side.
I have already spoken of this pass, but each time I traversed it I could not help being transfixed with wondering awe. Near its western termination each side is walled by bold, craggy mountains, and the scenery there is truly magnificent. Well might I exclaim, as I did on viewing it, Great God, Thy works are indeed mighty! Shortly after, when we reached the frozen waters of the bay, the dogs and sledge carried us along past scenery ever changing and remarkable. While crossing this, I judged it to be Frobisher's Countess of Warwick Sound.
Our course this time, owing to a wide gap in the ice, led us to the north of Oopungnewing, as we intended to make for the low point of land called Twerpukjua; hence we passed the island at some little distance. Here, when nearest to it, Punnie left us to go to Annawa's settlement; and after resting awhile, employing the time in sealing, we again proceeded. Niountelik Island we passed about a quarter of a mile off, and then, at 10 a.m. we arrived at Twerpukjua.
When approaching the shore-ice we met a party of Innuits with a sledge and team of dogs going to the vessel, having just come from the island where I had been April 25th and 26th, while staying with Sampson. Among them were Johnny Bull, his wife Kokerzhun, and New-wer-che, one of the most enterprising and energetic Innuits with whom I was acquainted. They reported that the ice had broken up, and said it would be impossible for me to proceed on my journey by sledge. This I soon perceived to be the case. While consulting with them, I could see quite enough to convince me so. The wind was then blowing strong from the south. A heavy sea was at work tearing up the ice between Niountelik and Twerpukjua. To where we were, the distance from the raging, open sea was not two hundred fathoms.
It was a trial to me to give up this trip, yet I acted as I believe a wise man should, and accordingly determined to abandon the attempt and try it by boat. I therefore ordered our return; but as I wished to examine the islands of Oopungnewing and Niountelik, I proposed to Ebierbing that we should stay three or four days at Annawa's; and, to prevent our being encumbered with so much baggage as I had brought for an extended trip, told him to make a transfer of it from our sledge to Johnny Bull's, who would take it back to the ship.
While this transfer was being made, my eye accidentally caught sight of a piece of brick, among sundry odds and ends of Innuit articles brought from the upper village at the head of Field Bay. While looking upon it, I called to mind the story I had heard from old Ookijoxy Ninoo about relics of this kind seen on Niountelik, and I at once asked Kusseeung and Arngmer-che-ung what it was. They replied, "Stone"—a stone that the old mother of the latter had given him a long time ago. I then asked from whence she got it, and both Innuits immediately pointed to the island Niountelik, which was less than half a mile from where we stood.
Ebierbing took this bright-coloured brick from my hand, looked at it, and said, "That is the same as I have seen on that island," pointing to Niountelik. He then added, "Many of my acquaintances up the inlet (meaning Northumberland) have pieces of the same kind that came from that island."
My feelings upon seeing the piece of brick, and hearing what was said about it, may be easily imagined. There, in my hand, was undoubtedly a relic of that expedition which had visited the place only eighty-six years after the discovery of America by Columbus, since which time it has remained unknown to the civilized world! This relic, then, was more precious to me than the gold which Frobisher sought there under the direct patronage of Queen Elizabeth. Until now no proof had existed that Frobisher and his expedition ever visited the particular bay or "straits" bearing his name; but, from all that I had gathered from the information given me by the natives, and from what I had now seen, a strong conviction rested on my mind that it was so, and doubt was at at end.
After stopping at Twerpukjua nearly three hours, I bade adieu to those of my Innuit friends who were going to Sampson's, and proceeded toward Annawa's at Oopungnewing. Johnny Bull and his party took their way to the ship, Ebierbing accompanying me.
When near Oopungnewing, we saw Punnie coming to meet us, and soon she gave us the information that Annawa and the whole settlement had gone to Og-bier-seer-o-ping (Cape True), and now not a tupic remained. Here again was another disappointment. I had no tent with me, having left my own at the vessel, and it would not do to remain without shelter, as a gale was even then blowing, therefore we had no alternative but to return. Accordingly, we rejoined Johnny Bull with his party, and were soon on our way, at a swift speed, over the ice, toward the land pass.
Our backs were nearly to the wind and snow, and therefore our trouble from this source was far less than if facing it. The gale helped us greatly a part of the way back. It drove the sledge sometimes faster than the dogs could go; thus occasionally they were dragged along instead of their drawing us. Besides this, the strong wind had closed the gap which we had been obliged to avoid in the morning, and we now traversed the ice as safely as though we were passing over a marbled floor.
Soon afterward we came to the glare ice of Lincoln Bay,[1] which is on this (the west) side of the Bayard Taylor Pass. Here the wind and snow played fantastic tricks with the sledge, dogs, and all our company. We were in company with the other Innuits, but Joe, myself, and Johnny Bull were footing it while passing along this bay. Had the wind been against us all would have been well, but it came quartering on our right hand and at our backs, and this caused numerous eddies and snow-wreaths.
We were ahead of the sledge, intending to jump upon it as it passed. After resting a while, on it came; and, watching the opportunity, Joe and Johnny were fortunately able to spring on, but I could not. Just as I made my attempt, a terrific gust sent me whirling along for nearly a quarter of a mile over the glassy ice. Then my feet caught upon a firm snow-wreath, and I stuck fast till I gathered my senses to look round and see where I was. It was snowing fast and furiously, and what with that coming down, and that thrown upward by the wind, every object three or four fathoms distant was hidden from sight. Fortunately, the almost perpendicular side of a mountain that I had before noticed was within a distance that could be seen. From this I struck a course leading up the bay to the land-route. In a short time I had overtaken the party, which had been detained by one of the dogs giving out. Casting it off, I took a seat upon the sledge, and away we went merrily toward the pass. As we drove along we were a curious sight to behold, for we resembled a living snow-bank.
We ascended the pass on foot, crossed the summit, descended on the other side, and again made the sea-ice of Field Bay. Here two more of our dogs gave out, and we cast them adrift, though they still followed us. We had nine remaining, and this made a good team.
We rested half an hour, then started again, the Innuits endeavouring to find their way, as usual, by the previous sledge-tracks; but we had to go this way and that way, in and out among the numerous islands covering the head of the bay, until finally all traces of our route were lost. Nevertheless, they would have found a course to the ship, though, perhaps, with some delay and difficulty, but I saved all this by using my compass, and thus directing them which way to go, and by 9 p.m. we were on board, having been absent only 22½ hours.
The following day, May 29th, was the anniversary of our departure from the United States. My thoughts at that time I find mentioned in my diary as follows:—
"One year ago to-day the George Henry sailed from New London. It seems to me a short year, though spent in regions that, to many civilized men, would be repulsive, and would appear unqualified desolation. Still, I like this country—not as a place in which to spend all my life, if it be one of four-score and ten years, but for work to be continued three or five years."
On the following day, as there appeared to be some indications of its turning out fine, I thought of taking a trip to a place called by the Innuits Sing-ey-er, Accordingly, I procured the services of Ebierbing and started; but in two hours afterward there came on thick weather, and every indication of a storm. We had, therefore, to abandon the journey and return. While we were out, however, and I was engaged taking observations, I heard a cry, "Mr. Hall!" I looked around, and saw Ebierbing, at a little distance off, crawling out of a hole in the ice into which he had fallen. I hastened to his assistance, but before my arrival he was out, and fortunately without any injury.
As I have before mentioned, it is risky travelling on the sea-ice at this season of the year, on account of pools of water just beneath a covering of snow. A traveller passing along over an apparently excellent route often finds himself unexpectedly floundering in water, and the cause of this danger may be explained in the following manner:—
I examined several of these "man-traps"—as they really prove to be—and found large leaves of seaweed within these holes in the ice. Any extraneous matter, such as this seaweed, stones, ashes, &c. put on the surface of the ice, absorbs the solar heat, and soon sinks down into the ice, forming a water-hole not only the size of the object itself, but encircling quite a space around. A driving storm may afterward cover the surface with snow, and thus make a perfect man-trap.
Soon after our return on board there was an arrival from Cape True, where the George Henry's officers and men were staying to prosecute whaling. I learned that they were all doing well in the way of fresh food, ducks, walrus, &c. being abundant.
On the second day of June a party of Sekoselar Innuits, six in number, came to the ship, and we soon became very friendly together. At first these natives said nothing very particular further than that they had visited the Hudson's Bay Company's ships while passing up and down; nor should I have obtained any other news had it not been elicited almost by accident. In fact, unless there be some motive to engage them in conversation with strangers, the Esquimaux are seldom communicative. It is as if the knowledge which they possess ought not to be given away unless for some especial reasons. The Innuits, as a race, are naturally reticent. They are often distant and reserved, and only by kindness, tact, and gradually leading up to a subject can any information be obtained from them. Thus it was not until the following day, when a letter arrived from Captain B, that I learned of these Esquimaux being acquainted with some facts concerning white people dying at Sekoselar. The captain had heard it so reported by other natives, and wrote to me that I might make some inquiries about it.
On the receipt of this letter I immediately sent for Ebierbing and Tookoolito to come on board and act as interpreters. I then invited the two Sekoselar men (by name Ook-goo-al-loo and Too-loo-ka-ah) into the cabin, and opened a conversation, in which both participated. Tookoolito was the principal speaker, and she interpreted very well my own questions and their answers. That her interpretation was correct, and equally so their information, has, since my return home, been proved by facts, which at that time I was unacquainted with. Indeed, I then misapplied the story, firmly believing it to bear upon the lost Franklin Expedition. What that story was may be seen in the following substance of all which was related to me through Tookoolito:—
The Sekoselar Innuits said that "no kodlunas (whites) had ever been to or ever died at Sekoselar, but two years previous to this time two kodluna boats, with many oars (meaning many oarsmen), arrived at a place farther down (at Karmowong[2])—so they, the Sekoselars, had heard—and there stopped awhile; how long, whether one or two days, was not known. That these kodlunas had plenty guns, plenty powder, plenty shot, plenty balls, and plenty small casks of provision. They had many tuktoo skins (reindeer furs) to wrap around their bodies and their feet.
"To make their boats not so deep in the water, the kodlunas (whites) took out amasuadlo (a great many) balls and placed them on a rock. The Innuits at that place, and in the vicinity where the kodlunas landed, thought the balls were soft stones. They supposed the whites had come from ships that had been lost or wrecked in the ice.
"When these whites left the land they went farther down toward the big sea.
"The whites had arrived at Karmowong in the fall of the year, one day when the weather was very bad, wind blowing very hard, and snowing fast. It was very cold too.
"The Karmowong Innuits thought the whites had obtained their tuktoo furs of the Sekoselar men. The skins had on the winter coat of the tuktoo. None of the kodlunas died there. They all went away in boats, and the Innuits never saw or heard of them more."
From further questions that I put, and which were readily answered, I concluded in my own mind that the kodlunas must have been at Karmowong in the fall of 1858, and the way the Sekoselar Innuits heard of it was by a native man who had seen the whites and the two boats.
Now, upon receiving this information, I at length came to the conclusion that it referred to some of Franklin's lost crews. Two boats of white men going toward the great sea, and apparently subsisting upon Innuit food, with reindeer skins for wrappers, and other such material, would seem to indicate that a few of the long-lost voyagers had at last made their way from King William's Land and Boothia toward the goal of their ultimate deliverance. The experience I had already gained of Esquimaux life proved to me what white men could endure under the exigency of circumstances. There was myself—not reduced to any such absolute necessity as the poor English voyagers undoubtedly must have been—yet capable of sustaining and even of enjoying life among the natives. How much more so, then, the unfortunate men of Franklin's wrecked ships? To me the matter seemed conclusive, although I could not give implicit confidence to what I had heard until personally testing the truth by examination.
On my return to the States, however, I find that the whole story must have had reference to the loss of a British vessel called the Kitty, which was crushed in the ice of Hudson's Strait in the fall of 1859, and the crew obliged to escape by two boats. Some of the particulars of their history remarkably coincide with the information given to me by the Sekoselar Innuits, as may be seen in the Appendix No. 9.
Another instance of the faithful preservation of traditions among the Innuits, and also of the accuracy of their reports when communicated freely, is to be found in the following additional information given to me by the Sekoselar natives.
In seeking to obtain the truth concerning the two boats and white men, I induced Ookgooalloo to sketch me his "country" on paper. He did so, and by that sketch I was convinced that Sekoselar was not the King's Cape of Fox, as I had at one time supposed, but lies east of it, extending along the coast on the north side of Hudson's Strait about two degrees; say from longitude 75° west to longitude 73° west. This, then, would fill the blank on Parry's chart of that locality, and give to it, as the Innuit showed me, a deep bay, flanked by lowlands, with a narrow isthmus between the waters of this bay and the head of Frobisher Bay, thus shown so to be, instead of a "strait."
The sketch which was drawn by Ookgooalloo extended from above Fox's farthest down to King's Cape, and thence along the north shore of Hudson's Strait to North Bay, where the upper Savage Islands are situated. "North Bluff" is adjoining that bay, and is called by Innuits Ki-uk-tuk-ju-a, and King's Cape, Noo-ook-ju-a. When the Sekoselar party left home in the previous year, 1860, they travelled, as Innuits generally do, very slow. In the fall they arrived at the head waters of Frobisher Inlet, and Ookgooalloo marked upon his sketch the track they pursued from Sekoselar to the place where they commenced the land route across the isthmus. The head waters of Frobisher Bay they called See-see-ark-ju-a, and into it ran, according to his account (which I afterward found true), a river of fresh water, sometimes very large, and containing salmon in abundance. During the winter of 1860–1 this party of natives made their way down the bay till they came across "Sampson" and his people, at the place which I had visited a short time previous.
Ookgooalloo then told me "that ships did not come in sight at Sekoselar, nor at Noo-ook-ju-a, but his father, Koo-ook-jum, had said that many years ago two ships came close to Noo-ook-ju-a (King's Cape) and Sekoselar, and that he, Koo-ook-jum, with many other Innuits, went out to the ships in kias and oomiens, and went on board."
Now these two ships could be no other than Parry's, in his expedition of 1821–23, and consequently it was full forty years since the occurrence now mentioned took place. Parry's account is as follows:
"July 31st, 1821.—Latitude 64° 01′, longitude 75° 49′ west. In the afternoon Captain Lyon discovered and made the signal for an Esquimaux oomiak coming off from shore under sail, accompanied by eight canoes. We tacked to meet them, and lay to half an hour for the purpose of adding to our stock of oil. In this boat were sixteen persons, of which number two only were men, an old and a young one, and the rest women and children. In the features, dress, and implements of these people we saw nothing different from those of the Esquimaux last described (those of the Savage Islands), but they were better behaved than the others, with whom our ships (meaning the Hudson's Bay Company's ships) have had more frequent intercourse."
Again, under date of August 1st, Parry continues:—
"We beat to the westward, between Nottingham Island and the north shore (King's Cape), the distance between which is about four leagues, and the latter fringed with numerous islands. In the course of the morning several canoes and one oomiak came off from the main land, containing about twenty persons, more than half of whom were women and children. They brought a little oil, some skin dresses, and tusks of the walrus, which they were desirous of exchanging for any trifle we chose to give them."
In this account we see a complete verification of the statement made by Ookgooalloo as to his father's visit to the only ships known to have been near his own "country." And I the more particularly allude to it because of many other reports given to me concerning the past, all of which, in my opinion, have received equal confirmation.
The natives from Sekoselar were not partial to civilized food, especially Ookgooalloo and his wife Pittikzhe, for they had not tasted any before. We gave each of them a mug of coffee and some sea-biscuit. They tasted it—spit it out—tried it again and again, and finally the man contrived to "worry" it down; but the woman gave it up, declaring, in her own Innuit way, that "such stuff was not fit to eat." Though repeatedly urged to participate in the regular meals served to the Esquimaux on board, Pittikzhe positively declined tasting any more "such barbarous food."
I found that the Innuits of Sekoselar had a very peculiar way of speaking—that is, with a slow, drawling tone. Their words are "long drawn out." The natives in our locality made fun of this, and it still more convinced me that there is a considerable variance between the dialects of different bands of the Esquimaux. Another thing I noticed was the physical superiority of these men over those living around Field Bay, and along the coasts visited by whaling ships. Whether all of the Sekoselar people were equal to those whom I saw I am unable to say, but "Sampson," who was also a native of that district, showed, as I have before said, to similar advantage when compared with the Innuits in our vicinity.
After making these men and women several presents, for which they expressed much gratitude, they departed at 5 p.m. on their return to Sampson's tupic, then near Evictoon, about one day's journey N.W. of Oopungnewing.
END OF VOL. I.
R. CLAY, SON, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS, BREAD STREET HILL.
- ↑ There are three important bays that make up from the ever memorable "Countess of Warwick Sound," which was discovered and so named by Frobisher nearly three centuries ago. The geographical position of this sound, as well as the nature and extent of Frobisher "Strait" (a misnomer, for it is a bay), remained unknown to the civilized world from the days of Queen Elizabeth down to 1860-2, when I had the good fortune to re-discover, examine, and determine much relating to Frobisher's Expeditions of 1576, 7, and '8.
The three bays—important on account of their geographical and historical connexions—I have named,—1st. Lincoln Bay; 2d. Victoria Bay; and, 3d. Napoleon Bay, after three distinguished personages of the present day, to wit, the President of the United States of America, the Queen of England, and the Emperor of France. (Vide Chart.)
- ↑ I think Karmowong to be the islands called by Baffin "Middle Savage Islands," north side of Hudson's Strait. Indeed, it may also include quite an extensive bay in that neighbourhood, which the Esquimaux sketched for me as being there.