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Life with the Esquimaux/Volume 2/Chapter 15

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CHAPTER XV.

Commencement of a Sledge-Journey up Frobisher Bay—Parting with Tookoolito—Crossing the Pass—Arrival at Oopungnewing—Search for the "Anvil"—A Seal-feast—A Walrus Hunt—Spearing the Walrus—Building an Igloo—Innuit Puppies—Arrival at Brewster Point—A Young Seal—Unsuccessful Attempt to catch the Mother—Trip up Newton's Fiord—Out all Night—An extempore Igloo the Fourth Encampment—Dog Comforters—Caught in a Storm—Peril and Fatigue.

On Tuesday, the 1st of April, 1862, I started on my exploring sledge trip up Frobisher Bay, to which allusion has already been made (see p. 201, vol. ii.) Some of the officers and crew of the George Henry were proceeding to Oopungnewing with a whale-boat and whaling apparatus lashed to a sledge drawn by dogs, and I took the opportunity of transporting my material over the Bayard Taylor Pass, proposing to go on from Oopungnewing with the ship's sledge.

The party consisted of nine persons, four belonging to the ship's company, four Innuits, and myself, and at 7 a.m. we started from the ship. Our team of dogs was a good one, numbering nineteen, all in excellent order, and in two hours we made the land, commencing the journey across the Pass. Tookoolito, who had been of great assistance to me in making my preparations for this journey, had promised to see me in the morning and bid me good-bye; but she overslept herself, and I was disappointed of seeing her. After making three quarters of a mile, on looking back I saw an Innuit far behind, but supposed it to be one of our party whom our quick movement had left in the rear. Presently one of the ship's company called my attention to the fact that Tookoolito was hastening after us. I knew at once that the noble-hearted woman was anxious to see me, in accordance with her expressed purpose of the previous evening. Turning back, I met her laboriously working her way along the hummocky ice, quite exhausted with her exertions. As soon as she could speak, she said, "I wanted to see you before you left, to bid you good-bye." I thanked her, expressed my regret for the trouble she had taken, and asked where her babe was. She rolled down her hood, and there, nestled at her back, was the sweetly-sleeping Tuk-e-lik-e-ta. Taking Tookoolito by the hand, I thanked her for all her kindness to me, and assured her that Captain B—— would attend to her and Ebierbing's wants while I was absent, seeing that they did not suffer for lack of food. I then sent her back with two of the crew who had accompanied us thus far, but were now returning.

The descent of the Pass was for a portion of the way dangerous, and at all times exciting; the passage was down three declivities, one of which was at an angle of 45°. To guard against accident, the Innuits placed straps made of walrus hide over the forward part of each runner, allowing the same to sweep back under the runners; this acted as a drag by digging deep into the snow. To the stern of the sledge was fastened a line twenty fathoms long, to which Lamb, Morgan, and myself clung for the purpose of holding back. The dog-driver was directly in front of his team, whipping them back, so that they might not give to the sledge any swifter motion than it would have from its own impetus. Thus the descent was safely accomplished.

We arrived at Ooopungnewing at 4 p.m. having been on the way but nine hours, and were kindly welcomed by the Innuits, large and small, as we drove up to their igloos on the south-east end of the island. Several of the ship's crew were also there, living with them, and apparently enjoying perfect health.

Soon after our arrival I proceeded to the igloo of Artarkparu, to learn the precise spot where he had last seen the 'anvil." Annawa was with the old man; and from the conversation that followed, I soon found that Ar-lood-loong, the wife of Artarkparu, who was seated at her usual place before the ikkumer, was better acquainted with the particulars than any other one of the party. I immediately promised her beads and tobacco if she would accompany me to the spot where the relic could be found. With alacrity she drew on her kodlings, and bounded out like a deer, proceeding over the rocks westward, while I exchanged a few more words with the two old men. They informed me that when this "anvil" was last seen it was within ten fathoms of where we then were, but that it had been tumbled off the rocks into the sea. At very low water it could be seen; and they told me that the ice would go away from the place before the ship sailed, and that they would help me get it then.

I then joined Arloodloong, who had waited for me upon the rocks, and she directed my attention to a certain level spot of land not far off, where the natives sometimes build their igloos or erect tupics. She said that, when she had a nu-tarung (babe) yet uborn, the "heavy stone" (anvil) was there, and was used as a seat by herself and many Innuits who at that time had their igloos on the spot. On inquiring which of her sons was the nutarung to which she referred, she replied Kod-la-ar-ling, a young man I supposed to be about twenty-five years of age. Her mother had also seen it there; but, after a time, her people had brought it away to the locality indicated by Artarkparu, and had finally tumbled it into the sea.

In the evening Koojesse came home, drawing into his igloo three seals and a fox. One seal, I should think, weighed 200 pounds. The two others were young ones, of but two or three days old, both as white as snow. He caught the mother and one of the young ones in a seal's igloo, which was on the ice and over a seal-hole.

Just before sundown I took a walk to the top of the hill at Oopungnewing, and saw Jones's Cape, and many other places where I had previously been. Kingaite's rampart of mountains also stood up in grandeur before me. The Bay of Frobisher was filled with fragments of ice, sending forth thundering noises as the swift tides dashed piece after piece upon each other. I was delighted to see on the north side an unbroken pathway along the coast upward.

That evening a great seal-feast took place in Koojesse's igloo, old Artarkparu and his family being present. Of course I joined in it, and participated in eating the raw, warm-blooded seal, taking it in Innuit fashion—that is, disposing of several pounds of raw meat at one sitting. The young seal (which I tasted at supper on the following day) was tender and fine, eating like a spring chicken.

Owing to various causes, I had to stay at Oopungnewing for several days, and during that time I occupied myself with writing and making observations. On April 5th, Koojesse, with several others of the natives, went out on a walrus hunt, and in the afternoon I spent some time watching them in their operations. They were about four miles out, walking in Indian file, making their way on drifting, broken ice. Soon after, one of the Innuits, looking at the party, said they had killed a walrus, and the dogs were at once harnessed to the sledge, and sent out on the ice-floe, to the edge of it, to wait there till the Innuits should get the walrus cut up. At about ten o'clock at night it was announced that the party was returning; then the cry of the dogs was heard, and soon Koojesse entered, dragging after him a huge cut of walrus. The news he communicated was cheering. He had struck and secured one, and Annawa another. Five had been struck through the day, though only two had been secured. Ooksin struck one, but his iron "drew;" Kooksmith lost one by the breaking of his "gig." A considerable portion of the next day was consumed in bringing in the meat. The walrus struck by Annawa was of good size, weighing not far from 1500 pounds; that of Koojesse was not so large.

The manner of taking the walrus is as follows: The hunter has a peculiar spear, to which is attached a long line made of walrus hide; this line is coiled, and hung about his neck; thus prepared, he hides himself among the broken drifting ice, and awaits the moment for striking his game. The spear is then thrown (as shown in the accompanying engraving), and the hunter at once slips the coil of line off his head, fastens the end to the ice by driving a spear through a loop

HARPOONING A WALRUS

in it, and waits till the walrus comes to the surface of the water, into which he has plunged on feeling the stroke of the harpoon; then the animal is quickly despatched by the use of a long lance. The recklessness and cool daring of the Innuit is forcibly shown in this operation, for if he should fail to free his neck of the coil at just the right moment, he would inevitably be drawn headlong beneath the ice.

At length, on the morning of April 7th, I resumed my trip. Ebierbing had come over with the sledge on the previous day, and I made an exchange with him, taking his, and giving him that belonging to the ship. My company consisted of Koojesse, his wife Tunukderlin, Kar-nei-ung ("Sharkey") his wife Noud-larng ("Jennie"), and young Henry Smith. We proceeded on the sea-ice, nearly north-west, for Chapel's Point, at the west side of the entrance of Wiswell's Inlet. Our sledge was heavily laden, especially with kow (walrus hide) for dog food, and walrus beef for our own eating; but the travelling was good, and we made better progress than I had expected, arriving at the place named at about 4 p.m.

Then Sharkey and Koojesse proceeded to build an igloo in the regular manner, which may be described thus: They first sounded or "prospected" the snow with their seal-spears to find the most suitable for that purpose. Then one commenced sawing out snow blocks, using a hand-saw, an implement now in great demand among the Innuits for this purpose; the blocks having been cut from the space the igloo was to occupy, the other Innuit proceeded to lay the foundation tier, which consisted of seventeen blocks, each three feet long, eighteen inches wide, and six inches thick. Then commenced the "spiraling," allowing each tier to fall in, dome-shaped, till the whole was completed, and the key-stone of the dome or arch dropped into its place, the builders being within during the operation. When the igloo was finished the two Innuits were walled in; then a square hole was cut at the rear of the dwelling, and through this Smith and I passed some snow blocks which we had sawed out. These Sharkey and Koojesse chipped or "minced" with their snow knives, while Tunukderlien and Jennie trod the fragments into a hard bed of snow, forming the couch or dais of the igloo. This done, the women quickly erected on the right and left the fire-stands, and soon had fires blazing, and snow melting with which to slake our thirst. Then the usual shrubs, kept for that purpose, were evenly spread on the snow of the bed-place; over that was laid the canvass of my tent, and over all were spread tuktoo furs, forming the bed. When the work had been thus far advanced, the main door was cut out of the crystal white wall, and the walrus meat and other things were passed in. Then both openings were sealed up, and all within were made happy in the enjoyment of comforts that would hardly be dreamed of by those at home.

I must here mention an incident which shows that the Innuits are equal to any emergency which may arise in their own country. For my supper I had some pemmican soup, but, on tasting it, it was too fresh, and we had no salt. What could we do? In a moment that was decided. Sharkey, on hearing what was wanted, took his knife and cut down into the snow floor of the igloo, in less than a minute coming to salt water. This astonished me, and I asked how it was that salt water had thus got above the main ice. They replied that the great depth of snow on the ice pressed it down.

During that day's trip I found that two puppies formed part of our company. Their mother was an excellent sledge-dog of our team. The pups were carried in the legs of a pair of fur breeches, and they rode on the sledge when travelling. Every time we made a stop they were taken out of their warm quarters and given to the mother for nursing. When we arrived at our encampment above referred to, Sharkey built up a small snow hut for the parent dog and her offspring. The Innuits take as much care of their young dogs as they do of their children, and sometimes even more.

The following day, April 8th, I found that some of my Greenland dogs were missing. This consequently delayed me. All I could do was to wait patiently until they were

HALL ON HIS EXPLORING EXPEDITION.


recovered from Oopungnewing, to which place they had returned. Koojesse and Sharkey went out after young seals, and came back with one, its coat white and like wool. In the evening we had our supper from a portion of this seal, and never did I eat more tender meat. It were "a dainty dish to set before a king." But the great delicacy we enjoyed was milk. Every young seal has usually in its stomach from a pint to a quart of its mother's milk. The Innuits consider this a luxury, either raw or boiled, and so do I. I partook of this milk, eating some of it first raw, and afterward some of it boiled. It had the taste of cocoa-nut milk, and was white like that of a cow.

The next two days, April 9th and 10th, were spent at the same encampment, though on the former day I explored Wiswell Inlet to its northernmost limit. On the morning of the 11th we proceeded on our journey. As we neared Peter Force Sound, a sledge party of Innuits met us, and it was soon found that we were mutual friends. They were stopping on an island close by Nouyarn, and intended to go up the bay; I therefore expected to meet them again. We arrived at a place on the ice near Brewster's Point, on the western side of Peter Force Sound, and the two male Innuits immediately began to erect an igloo. The two women started off, each with dog and hook, to hunt for seal igloos, and in five minutes Jennie's loud voice announced that Tunukderlien had captured a young seal. Instantly Koojesse and Sharkey dropped their snow-knife and saw, leaped the walls of their partly-erected igloo, and hastened with all speed to the women. Henry and I had preceded them; but, after we had all started, I remembered that we had left our walrus meat and other provision exposed to the dogs; I therefore directed Henry to return and look out for them.

On reaching the place of capture, we found that Tunukderlien had beneath her feet a young seal alive and kicking. Koojesse immediately made a line fast to one of its hind flippers, and allowed the seal to re-enter the igloo where it had been caught. As this was something new and interesting to me, I intently watched what followed. The seal was perhaps two or three weeks old, and, like all young seals, was white, though not as white as untainted snow. While Koojesse kept hold of the line, four or five fathoms long, the seal worked itself hastily back into the igloo, its birthplace, and there made a plunge down the seal-hole into the sea, Koojesse allowed it the whole play of his line, crawling into the igloo, taking the seal-hook with him, and waiting patiently for the parent seal to come up. I was close by him, there being just sufficient room through the opening made when the young seal was caught for me to push myself in. There, lying flat down, we both carefully watched. In three or four minutes the young seal returned, popping up its round, shining head, and blowing or puffing like a whale, though on a reduced scale, its large eyes glistening like lights from twinkling stars. It came directly to its bed-place where we reclined. As it attempted to crawl up, Koojesse gave it a stroke on the head, signifying "Go away—dive down—show to your mother that you, the darling of her affections, are in trouble, and when she comes to your aid I'll hook her too." The two women were now close by us, each with a seal-dog, and while thus waiting I had a good opportunity for inspecting a seal's igloo. It was a model of those which the Innuits make for themselves, and was completely dome-shaped. It was five feet or so in diameter, and two and a half feet high, with a depth of snow above it of some five feet. The platform of sea-ice was where the parent seal gave birth to its young and afterward nursed it. On one side was the seal-hole, filled with sea- water, which was within two inches of the top of the platform.

After waiting for some time, and finding that the old seal would not show itself, the young one was withdrawn and placed on the snow. Then Koojesse put his foot upon its back, between the fore-arms or flippers, and pressed with all his weight, the object being to kill the seal by stopping its breath. Innuits adopt this mode in preference to using knife or spear. It prevents the loss of what is to them the precious portion—the blood.

On returning to our encampment, we found that the dogs had made sad havoc with our walrus meat and blubber, and other things in general. However, as it could not now be helped, we put up with it. Our supper that night was blessed cold water, chunks of cold pemmican, and raw frozen walrus meat.

The following day, April 12th, while Sharkey and Koojesse were engaged in the locality of my third encampment hunting young seal, I started, accompanied by my attendant, Henry Smith, to explore another bay which appeared to run up some distance beyond Peter Force Sound. I expected to be able to go and return in one day, and therefore made no preparations beyond taking half a pound of pemmican and a quarter of a pound of Borden's meat-biscuit, intended for our lunch. As I wished to keep a careful account of the distance travelled, I took the line used by me when on the Greenland coast, near Holsteinborg, in drawing out of the great deep many a cod and halibut, and measured off with tape-line seventy-five feet; my log then consisted of a cold chisel used by me in cutting out my rock pemmican.

It should be said, however, that previous to this time, and on all subsequent occasions when my whole company were with me, and all our provision was to be carried, no one could ride on the sledge, the dogs having difficulty even in dragging their necessary load. Consequently, at such times, all my measurements between my astronomically-determined points had to be made by pacing—a tolerably accurate, but, withal, a very tiresome method of working.

I found many apparent heads to the bay during my passage up, and at each turn it seemed as if we had reached the termination; but, on making the several points of land, others were found beyond.

After some hours of travel the dogs became very tired, the snow allowing them to sink to their bodies at every step. It was growing late; a snow-storm was coming on; to return was impossible; we therefore set about making ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would allow. We had no snow-knife, but an impromptu igloo was planned which we built of the sledge and snow, getting out the blocks of the latter in the best way possible, that is to say, with a broken sledge-beam.

When the igloo was finished, and before the door was sealed up, we took in the dogs, and were soon really comfortable. The storm came down fearfully, but we were well protected; the beating snow sought an entrance, but could find none. Fortunately, we had saved a piece of the pemmican from our lunch, and this served to give us just a mouthful for supper; some fragments of the meat-biscuit also remained; and after this frugal repast and some pipes of tobacco, we retired to our snow bed. I had one dog for my feet-warmer, another for my pillow, while a third was arched at my back. Henry was also comfortably provided for. My diary for that day, written in the igloo of a white man's invention, concludes as follows:—

"Now within a few minutes of midnight. Hark! a singular noise strikes the ear. Perhaps it is a polar bear! We listen. Again the same alarming noise. Another sound, and we determine its source. It is the snoring of one of the dogs! So good-night to all the sleeping world. Heaven bless all those who need it; none needs it more than myself."

The next morning, April 13th, I arose from my snowy couch at five o'clock, knocked my head against the snow door, made my way over its ruins on all-fours, then stood erect and looked around. The heavens seemed to indicate the dawn of a beautiful day. I called up Henry, and soon the dogs were harnessed, when we proceeded toward the head of this narrow bay—Newton's Fiord[1] as I named it—which we reached at 7 a.m. The termination I found to consist of a broken narrow plain, walled by a line of mountains on either side.

Before we reached this spot the snow commenced falling, though the fall was accompanied by no wind, and the weather was very thick. Soon after seven we started on our return journey to our encampment, and at nine o'clock we were abreast of the place where we had passed the previous night. At that time the wind was freshening, and it was snowing hard. Our passage thence to the place of our encampment was very difficult. Not only had we to encounter a severe north-west gale, charged with cold at 32° below the freezing-point, accompanied by drift-snow filling the air so thickly that often no object at three fathoms' distance could be seen but the dogs became perfectly exhausted from being over-worked, and from going long without food. On making inquiries

THE RETURN FROM NEWTON'S FIORD.

of Henry Smith, I learned that Sharkey and Koojesse had been feeding their own dogs and neglecting my "Greenlanders," which were now just upon the point of giving out. Two of them were so knocked up before reaching home that they could not pull a pound; one was so fatigued that he repeatedly fell down. I was obliged to lead the way for several miles by the compass, it being impossible to see the land, though the fiord was only from half a mile to two miles wide.

During the afternoon the sun shone down through the storm that seemed only hugging the earth. For the last nine miles which I made along the west side of the fiord and Peter Force Sound, the mountains would every few minutes show a shaded contour—a ghost-like faintness—by which I was enabled to make my course without the compass. When within two miles of the igloos I came upon our sledge-tracks of the day before, and these I followed carefully while they were visible; but, with all my care, the track was soon lost; and as the land was again closed from view, we should have been in grievous difficulty had not the compass guided me. The risk was great indeed; for in such a storm we might easily have gone out to sea, or the ice of the bay on which we were travelling might have broken up and carried us away.

Providentially, we reached the encampment—my fifth, as I called it, which was the same as the third—at 5.10 p.m. finding Sharkey on the look-out, anxiously awaiting us, while Koojesse was out in search of me. The Innuits, all through the previous night, had kept my lantern suspended to a pole by the igloo as a beacon light. Hot suppers were quickly prepared for us by the women, and we soon retired to rest.

  1. Named after O. E. Newton, M.D. of Cincinnati, Ohio. The termination of Newton's Fiord is in lat. 63° 22′ N. long. 66° 05′ W.