Life with the Esquimaux/Volume 2/Chapter 16
CHAPTER XVI.
Continue the Journey up Frobisher Bay—Arrive at Beauty Bay—The Sledge attacked by hungry Dogs—Meeting with Friends,—Bereavement of old Allokee and his Wife—Death of Tweroong—Heart-rending Particulars—A Seal-feast—A sudden Excitement—Strange Visit of an Angeko—Parting with Allokee—Visit to the Grinnell Glacier—Ascent by Polar Bear Tracks—A Sea of Ice—An exciting Journey back.
During the day, April 14th, 1862, I remained quiet in the igloo, engaged in writing and working up observations. On the 15th I made a trip up the east arm of Peter Force Sound; and on the 16th we left the fifth (same as third) encampment, and proceeded on up Frobisher Bay. We made but slow progress on account of sealing, there being a necessity for obtaining all the food that could be found. Six of us, beside the dogs, required a large quantity. After journeying seven miles, we made our next encampment on the ice a few paces from a point of land forming the west cape of a pretty little bay, which, on the boat voyage in the previous fall, I had called Beauty Bay. That night we had a different kind of dwelling from the one ordinarily occupied by us. The weather was now occasionally warm enough to admit of half igloo and half tupic, which was made by omitting the dome, and placing tent-poles, covered with canvass, on the snow walls.
An exciting scene occurred while the igloo wall was being erected. Koojesse and Sharkey were at work on the building, while Henry and I removed everything from the sledge. We being at some little distance, the dogs suddenly sprung in a pack upon the sledge, and each snatched a piece of the meat and blubber still remaining upon it. With a club in my hand, and seal-spear in Henry's, we belaboured them lustily, but they were so hungry that it really seemed as if they cared nothing for blows. As a piece of meat was rescued from the jaws of one, another, and perhaps two others, as quickly had it. Blow followed blow; dogs flew this way and that, all acting like devils, determined to conquer or die in their devouring work. It was quite five minutes before the battle was through, and not then till Koojesse leaped the
WE MUST CONQUER OR STARVE.
walls of the igloo, and came to our assistance. During this mêlée, Henry unfortunately broke the wood portion of Koojesse's oo-nar (seal-spear), and this enraged the Innuit to a degree not esaily to be described, for no instrument is constructed by the natives with more care than this.
The following day, April 17th, I made an exploring trip up Beauty Bay, and on my return found that our igloo had fallen in. The sun was now becoming so powerful that the upper tier of the snow wall melted, and brought down the top and poles upon the two women who were within, and were consequently overwhelmed in the ruins.
Next morning, April 18th, at 9 a.m. we again started, taking a course direct for Gabriel's Island of Frobisher, in the main bay, called by the Innuits Ki-ki-tuk-ju-a. Our progress was slow, owing to the heavy load and the poor condition of the dogs; and at noon, symptoms of a gale coming on, it was deemed advisable to make for shelter. Before we could obtain it, the gale had burst upon us, filling the air with the "white dust" of the country. Presently we saw an Innuit in the distance approaching, and, after winding in and out among numerous small islands, we met him. It proved to be Ninguarping, son of Kokerjabin, out seal-hunting. He said there were other Innuits not far off, among them Miner and Kooperneung, with their families, and we quickly made towards them. I was glad to learn that these Innuits were so near; for I thought I would take my dogs and sledge, and run up from my next encampment to see my good friend Tweroong. I should have been sadly disappointed had I done so, as will soon appear. Ninguarping then accompanied us to the spot selected for our encampment, and assisted in building an igloo. Soon a sledge of Innuits, with a team of fourteen dogs, came bounding wildly towards us. They were quickly alongside, proving to be our friends "Jack" and "Bill," on their way to an island not far off for a load of walrus beef which was deposited there. They invited us to go to their village. This we did, abandoning our half-completed igloo.
We arrived about 4 p.m. and found a village of five igloos, all inhabited by Innuit families, composed of my old friends and acquaintances. Old Too-loo-ka-ah was one of the first whom I saw, and he invited me to his capacious igloo, where his wife, Koo-muk, quickly gave me water to drink and food to eat, the latter being portions of frozen walrus entrails. To say that I enjoyed this food would only be to repeat what I have said before, though, no doubt, many will feel surprised at my being able to eat, as I so frequently did, raw meat, contents of tuktoo paunch, entrails of seals and walrus, whale skin and krang, besides drinking train-oil and blood.
In the previous December, when on my trip to Jones's Cape after skins, I saw Toolookaah and his wife, and was both surprised and gratified to learn that she had an infant; it was a girl of only two weeks, and had been named Ek-ker-loon, Toolookaah was at this time, as I thought, sixty years old, and his wife not less than fifty-five years. When I now saw the parents again on this journey of which I am writing, I inquired for the child, and received the mournfully sad reply, "Tuk-a-woke," meaning, it is dead.
I should add to this record the news I received at the same time of the death of my never-to-be-forgotten friend Tweroong. Oo-soo-kar-lo, son of old Petato, told me that she had died several weeks before. Some days later I obtained the details of her death, and they were truly heart-rending. When her husband, "Miner," and her son, "Charley" removed from Oopungnewing a few weeks before this time, Tweroong was unable to walk, and had to be carried on a sledge. After going a few miles up Frobisher Bay, an igloo was built for her, when she was placed in it, without any food, and with no means of making a fire-light, and then abandoned to die alone. A few days after some Innuits visited the igloo and found her dead.
The next day, April 19th, in the afternoon, I received an invitation from old Petato to come into her igloo and partake of a seal-feast. Taking Henry Smith along with me, I accompanied Oosookarlo to the place indicated. We found Petato seated on her dais, with an immense stone pot hanging over the full blazing ikkumer; the pot was filled with smoking-hot seal and seal-soup; Sharkey, Kopeo, his wife and infant, and several young Innuits, were there, awaiting the "good time coming." Petato, the presiding genius, took out a piece of the seal with her hands and gave it to me, doing the same by the others. Before I had half-finished mine, the old lady handed me another and a larger piece; but, without difficulty, I did ample justice to all of it. Henry declared he never partook of a meal he relished more. The second course was seal-soup, of which Petato gave me a huge bowl full; that is the nectar of a seal-feast. After I was supplied, another bowl, of a capacity equivalent to four quarts, was placed on the floor for the dog to wash with his pliant tongue; when he had lapped it clean, outside as well as within, it was filled with the luscious soup, which the Innuits at once disposed of, taking turns at the bowl.
Later in the evening, as I was seated in my own igloo surrounded by my company, I heard a loud Innuit shout just outside. As quick as thought, Koojesse, Sharkey, Tunukderlien, and Jennie sprang for the long knives lying around, and hid them wherever they could find places. My first thought was that a company of warlike Innuits were upon us, and I asked Koojesse the meaning of all this. He replied, "Angeko! angeko! "Immediately there came crawling into the low entrance to the igloo an Innuit with long hair completely covering his face and eyes. He remained on his knees on the floor of the igloo, feeling round like a blind man at each side of the entrance, back of the fire-light, the place where meat is usually kept, and where knives may generally be found. Not finding any, the angeko slowly withdrew. I asked Koojesse what would have been the consequence if the angeko had found a knife; he replied that he—the angeko—would have stabbed himself in the breast.
On April 22d we broke up our encampment, all the Innuits, with the exception of Toolookaah's family, being about removing up Frobisher Bay. Two families, including Petato, Kopeo, Oosookarlo, with the wives and children of the two men, were to go with me one's day's journey at least. Old Toolookaah, who was to remain behind, wore a sorrowful face on account of my departure. I find in my diary the following record: "This noble, free-hearted Innuit loves me, I do believe; I know that I love him. We have now been acquainted more than a year; have voyaged together, have shared perils of storms and the glory of sunshine, have feasted together, slept beneath the same tupic, have been, as it were, father and son. Successful be his sealing, his tuktoo hunts, and his conflicts with the polar bear—the lion of the North; and, at last, peace and glory to his noble soul. When all were ready for a start this morning, this old Innuit accompanied me from this island some distance on the ice. At last we locked hands, and, with prolonged 'terboueties,' tears started in his eyes, and rolling down his iron-ribbed face, we parted, probably never to meet again on earth."
Throughout our day's journey there was a continuous gale, with snow-drift closing all from our view; but we finally reached our next encampment, on a small island above Kikitukjua, at 4.30 p.m. having gone nearly nine miles.
The following day we parted with Petato and my other Innuit friends, and proceeded some five or six miles direct toward Kingaite coast, making our ninth encampment[1] on the main ice clear of land.
We were obliged to remain here encamped for ten days, the desperate struggle being to get enough to sustain life. My hunters and sealers, Sharkey and Koojesse, went down every fair day a distance of five miles to the open water, where were white whales, seals, and ducks in abundance, but they were then all so shy that it was impossible to approach them within killing distance. That they might be successful was our earnest wish, for we were living mostly on dog food—kow— that is, walrus hide with hair on. Besides, we had no oil for the lamp, and without the lamp we were unable to obtain fresh water.
One day they came home successful, having caught a seal, the first of the season, and no happier beings could exist than we were for the time at the feast of raw seal that followed. In the evening of the next day, April 28th, Koojesse and Sharkey drove up with two seals, one of about 200 pounds' weight, and the other weighing 100 pounds. This was success indeed, and it enabled them to feed the dogs as well as ourselves. By this time the weather had become so warm that we could not keep our igloo dry, and it was resolved to erect a tupic or tent. This finished, we moved into it; and a few minutes after we had vacated our old home, down fell the igloo a mass of ruins.
On May 1st, 1862, I started from this encampment on a trip to Kingaite coast. While Henry was engaged harnessing up the dogs, I put together my instruments, a little bag of rock pemmican, and some Borden meat-biscuit, of which I had saved merely a trifle for use on excursions of this kind. Sharkey, with sledge and dogs, was ready, and, after a good hot breakfast, we started, at 7.40 a.m. for the point I had selected—near the President's Seat—viz. that where an ascent could probably be made of the glacier which I had seen on my voyage up the bay the previous fall.
My course across the bay to Kingaite coast was south 4° east, true. The number of dogs in the team was ten, but, as they were in poor condition, we made but three and a half to four and a half miles per hour. In crossing the bay we found abundance of hummocky ice, and the snow-wreaths were numerous, abrupt, and high. A few minutes before noon we drew into a small bay that extended on toward the point I sought to reach. With great solicitude, I watched that part of the heavens in which the sun was, but, to my deep regret, the thick clouds were as a veil between my eyes and it. I had my instruments in readiness in case the sun should show itself for a few moments. If I could have got two solar observations, keeping correct account of the time elapsing between, by which to obtain accurately the "hour angle," I should have done so, for thus I could have determined my actual latitude; but the clouds were too thick for the sun's rays to penetrate them. I kept, however, a careful account of my course and of the distance made, by which I determined the latitude of Kingaite coast where I struck it.
As the dogs turned up the narrow bay leading to the point of land we were making, I was delighted to see the face of an abutting glacier, which fully proved the truth of my anticipations that there were iceberg discharges on Kingaite side. At noon our progress was arrested by the glacier, which seemed to smile a defiance—"thus far, and no farther."
Here, by this crystal wall, I stood, in admiration and awe beholding its beauty and grandeur. My Innuit companion seemed satisfied and gratified in witnessing the effect it had upon me. I turned and took a look seaward. A few degrees of opening between the points of land leading into the harbour in which we were gave a view bounded only by the sea horizon. My quickened thoughts almost made me exclaim, "Tell us, time-aged crystal mount, have you locked in your mirror chambers any images of white man's ships, that sailed up these waters near three centuries ago?" This train of fancy-painting was soon dissipated by the substantial reality of a lunch on cold rock pemmican and gold dust (Borden's pulverized meat-biscuit), washed down with chips from the glacier, after which we were prepared for an attempt to scale the ice mountain. This could be done only by ascending one of the rock ridges flanking the abutting arm of the glacier, and thence striking up its steep side.
For the first quarter of a mile it was very abrupt, and difficult to climb. The most laborious and dangerous part of the ascent was accomplished by following the footsteps of a polar bear. My "illustrious predecessor" had evidently ascended the glacier some time previous, just after a fresh fall of snow, impacting it by his great weight into such hard steps that the gales had no effect in destroying them. These polar-bear steps made it feasible for us to ascend where we did. After the first quarter of a mile the inclination of the glacier was gradual, then for a quarter of a mile farther it became greater, but it did not so continue. Each side of this arm of the glacier was walled in by mountains, the east side by the group I called the President's Seat.
On making two miles—S. 16° E. true—we arrived where the glacier opens to a sea of ice. At this time and point the glacier was covered with snow, with a cropping out here and there of the clear crystal blue ice, giving relief to the view of an apparently illimitable sea of white around. My Innuit 
ARM OF THE GRINNELL GLACIER, BY MOUNT "PRESIDENT'S SEAT."
companion, being well experienced in all the coast from Karmowong, a place on the north side of Hudson's Straits, to Resolution Island, and all about Frobisher Bay, said that this great glacier extended far, far below where we then were, and also continued on north-west a great way, reaching over also nearly to Hudson's Straits. From the information I had previously gained, and the data furnished me by my Innuit companion, I estimated the Grinnell glacier to be fully 100 miles long. At various points on the north side of Frobisher Bay, between Bear Sound and the Countess of Warwick's Sound, I made observations by sextant, by which I determined that over fifty miles of the glacier was in view from and south-east of the President's Seat. A few miles above that point the glacier recedes from the coast, and is lost to view by the Everett chain[2] of mountains; and, as Sharkey said, the ou-u-e-too (ice that never melts) extends on wes-se-too-ad-loo (far, very far off). He added that there were places along the coast below what I called the President's Seat where this great glacier discharges itself into the sea, some of it large icebergs.
From the sea of ice down to the point where the abutting glacier arrested my advance with sledge and dogs, the ice-river or arm of the glacier was quite uniform in its rounding up, presenting the appearance—though in a frozen state—of a mighty rushing torrent. The height of the discharging face of the glacier was 100 feet above the sea.
Without doubt, the best time of the year to travel over glacier mountains is just before the snows have begun to melt. The winter snows are then well impacted on the glacier surface, and all the dangerous cracks and water-ditches are filled up. Storms and gales do good work with snow-flakes once within their fingers. Grinnell Glacier,[3] a limited portion of which was visited, would, in three and a half or four months' time, present quite a different appearance. Now it was robed in white; then, below the line of eternal snow, it would be naked,—clear, bright, flashing cerulean blue meeting the eye of the observer. This contrast I have seen. When on my boat-voyage up the bay in the previous fall, this great glacier of Kingaite heaved heavenward its hoary head, supported by a body of crystal blue: on my return the same was covered with its winter dress. Before the cold weather sets in, all the crevices in the glacier are charged with water, which, congealing, is caused to expand; and the ice explodes with a sound like loud thunder, rending the mountains and shooting off icebergs and smaller fragments at the various points where the glacier has its arms reaching down to the sea.
After some time spent on the glacier, of which my view was not so extensive or protracted as it would have been but for the clouds that capped the heights where we were, my companion and myself returned to the sledge. I then walked to the shore and obtained a few geological specimens, and we started on our way back to the ninth encampment. Two or three miles from the glacier we came to a small island. I took several bearings of distant objects and sextant angles for elevation of the mountain heights; but the wind began to freshen almost to a gale, and caused considerable risk in crossing the bay. There was a probability of the floe cracking off and drifting us to seaward; the open water was within a mile of our course, and the floe, giving way, would have been swept rapidly to the south-east. My driver was constantly urging the dogs to their greatest speed while making passage over the most dangerous part of the way. Fortunately no mishap occurred, and we arrived at the tupic in the evening.
- ↑ The ninth encampment was in lat. 62° 51′ N. long. 66° 40′ W. due east of Gabriel's Island, and midway of it and Kingaite coast. (See Chart.)
- ↑ Named after Edward Everett. For location of "Everett Chain," see Chart.
- ↑ This great glacier I named after Henry Grinnell. Its height, in the vicinity of President's Seat, is 3,500 feet.