Among the Esquimaux; or, Adventures under the Arctic Circle
Page 33
CHAPTER XXXII
THE WILD MEN OF GREENLAND
A sharp bark broke the stillness, a peculiar cry followed, and then,out from the swirl and flurry of the eddying snow, came a string ofEsquimau dogs. There were six couples fastened to a rude sleigh, andat the side of the frisky animals skurried one of the wild men ofGreenland on snow-shoes, and with a whip in hand having a short stockand a very long lash.
Directly behind him followed two similar teams, and then a fourthemerged with seven spans of dogs. There was a driver to each, and thesleighs were loaded with pelts intended for the nearest settlement.Not one of the Esquimaux was riding, though it was their custom to doso for a goodly portion of the way.
This singular collection of men and animals were approaching in a linethat would have carried them right over the amazed party that wereabout to start on their hopeless attempt to reach the sea coast, hadthey not veered to one side.
When the foremost driver discerned the four figures through the snowhe emitted a sharp cry, not dissimilar to that of his own dogs, andthe obedient animals halted. The others did the same, and in a fewminutes the four teams, with their drivers, were ranged about theothers.
These individuals were genuine Esquimaux, the real wild men ofGreenland. Their homes were far in the interior, and only at rareintervals did they venture forth with their dogs and sleighs to thecoast settlements, where they were welcome, for they never failed tobring a good supply of peltries with them, for which they found readybarter among the agents of the Danish government.
There was no mixed blood among these Esquimaux. They werecopper-colored, short, of stocky build, and with more musculardevelopment in the lower limbs than is seen among the coast natives.The latter, giving most of their time to fishing and the use of thepaddle, have powerful arms and shoulders, but as a rule are weak inthe legs.
They were warmly clad in furs, their heads being covered with hoodssimilar to that worn by Docak, but there was nothing in the nature ofthe dress ornamentation which he displayed.
None of the party could speak English, but that made no difference,since Docak understood their curious gibberish. An animatedconversation began at once between him and the four, who gatheredabout him while Jack and the boys stood silently listening and lookingupon the singular scene.
What the guide said was in the nature of "business." They had talkedbut a short while when one of the wild men went to his sleigh andbrought forth a big piece of cooked reindeer meat, evidently a part oftheir own liberal supply of provisions, and offered it to Jack. Thelatter accepted with thanks, shown more plainly by manner than hiswords.
And didn't those three fellows have a feast, with Docak himself as aparticipant? You need to be told no more on that point.
The guide, after the brisk interview, explained the meaning of theconversation to his friends.
The Esquimaux were on their way to Ivigtut, some forty miles in asouthwest direction. They had come a long way from the interior,having been three days on the road, and it was their intention to pushmatters so vigorously that they would reach the famous mining townthat night.
But, best of all, they agreed to carry the three whites as passengers.They could be stowed in the sleighs among the peltries, as the driverswere accustomed to do at times, though they were capable of keepingpace with the dogs hour after hour without fatigue. They would do sonow on their snow-shoes, and the three could ride all the way toIvigtut.
It meant the rescue and salvation of the party, who were in theuttermost depths of despair but a few minutes before, and tears ofthankfulness came to the eyes of all three.
"We haven't much money with us," said Rob, addressing Docak, "but wewill pay them as well as we can when we reach Ivigtut."
"Don't want much," replied the grinning guide, "jes' littlemoney--two, t'ree bits."
"We'll give 'em all we've got," added Jack; "but what about you,Docak?"
"Me go home," was the answer, accompanied by one of his pleasinggrins.
"Can you find the way?"
"Me all right now--hark! hear de water?"
He spoke the truth, it being a singular fact that the atmosphericconditions had changed to that degree that the dull, hollow moaningfor which they had listened so long in vain was now audible to all. Itwas like a beacon light, which suddenly flames out on the top of ahigh hill, for the guidance of the belated traveler. There could be nogoing astray, with that sound always in his ears, and strengthened byhis meal of venison, the hardy native would press on until he duckedhis head and passed through the entry of his home.
It might well be questioned how the wild men could maintain theirbearings, but they had come unerringly across the snowy wastes fromtheir distant homes, and the boom of the ocean was as sure an aid tothem as it was to Docak. No fear but that they would go as straight asan arrow to Ivigtut.
There was no call for delay or ceremony. A long journey was beforethem, and it being the season when the days were not unusually long,they must be improved to the utmost. The wild men beckoned to thethree to approach the sleighs, where, with a little dexterousmanipulation of the bundles, they made room for each.
Jack found himself seated at the rear of one of the odd vehicles,which consisted mainly of runners, but had a framework at the backthat gave grateful rest to the body. The peltries were fastened infront and around him, some being used to cover his limbs, and a partof his body, so that he could hardly have been more comfortable. Therunners were made very broad to prevent them sinking in the snow. Butfor that, it would have been hard work for the nimble dogs to dragthem and their loads with any kind of speed. The situation of the boyswas similar to the sailor's.
The arrangement left one of the sleighs without an occupant. This waswell, since the wild men could take turns in riding, when they feltthe need, and the whites need not walk a step of the way to Ivigtut.
While the confab was going on, the dogs were having their own fun.Quick to obey the order to halt they squatted on their haunches facingin all directions, and for a time were quite motionless and wellbehaved, but it was not long before their natural mischievousnessasserted itself, and they began frolicking with each other. They weresnapping, barking, snarling, and then half of them were rolling overin the snow, fighting with good nature, the evil of which was that ittangled the simple harness into the worst sort of knots, whichundoubtedly was just what the canines wanted to do.
The head driver spoke angrily to them, cracked his long whip, and,bringing the knot down on their bodies, or about their ears, addedtheir yelps of pain to the general turmoil, while the confusion wasgreater than before.
He was used to the dogs, knowing every one of the half-hundred, andwas quick to detect which was the ringleader. This canine belonged tothe rear team, and not only started the rumpus, but kept it going withthe utmost enthusiasm. He knew the driver would be after him, and hedodged and whisked among the others so dexterously that the well-aimedlash cracked against the side of some innocent spectator more than ittouched him.
But the driver was not to be baffled in that fashion. Dropping thewhip, he plunged after the criminal, and, seizing him with both hands,gave him several vigorous bites on the nose, which made him howl withpain. When released he was the meekest member of the party, all ofwhom sat quiet, while the angry Esquimau devoted himself to unravelingmatters.
Rob Carrol had not forgotten the admiration which Docak showed morethan once for his rifle. When the native came over to the sleigh toshake his hand, as he was bidding all good-bye, the boy said:
"Docak, I meant that you should have this on our return from the hunt.I sha'n't need it any more; accept it as a reminder of this littleexperience we had together."
The Esquimau was so taken aback that for a moment he could not speak.Before he recovered himself, Jack and Fred added their requests thathe would not refuse the present. His gratitude was deep, and foundexpression only in a few broken words as he turned away.
It had been on the point of the sailor's tongue several times t
oapologize for the kick of the evening before, but he felt that theresult of it all was a sufficient apology of itself. Besides, thereare some matters in life which it is best to pass over in silence.
The wild men showed little sentiment in their nature. Seeing that allwas ready, they cracked their whips, called out to their dogs, and offthey went.
Jack and the boys turned their heads to take a last look at Docak, whohad served them so faithfully and well. As they did so, they observedhim plowing through the snow again to the westward, his form quicklydisappearing among the myriad snowflakes. They never saw him again.
The first thought that came to each of the passengers, after the startwas fairly made, was that the forty miles' journey could not beaccomplished before nightfall. The sleighs were so heavily loaded withpelts and themselves that they formed quite a task for the dogs, whichof necessity sank deep in the snow. But they tugged and kept at itwith a spirit worthy of all admiration.
But one of the remarkable features of the blizzard and snow storm thathad come so near destroying our friends quickly made itself apparent,and raised their hopes to the highest point.
The fall of snow decreased until at the end of half an hour not aneddying flake was in the air. The sun, after struggling awhile,managed to show itself, and the glare of the excessively white surfacefairly blinded the passengers for a time. They noticed, however, thatthe depth of the last fall continued to grow less, until to theirunbounded amazement and relief it disappeared altogether. They struckthe hard surface, which was like a smooth floor, and capable ofbearing ten times the weight of the sleighs without yielding.
This proved that the blizzard was of less extent than supposed. Thewild men more than likely were beyond its reach, while Docak and hiscompanions were caught in its very centre. Its fury extended southwardbut a short way, and the party had now crossed the line. The countrybefore them was like that over which Jack and the boys set out toprosecute their hunt for game.
The travelers were like athletes, who, emerging from a struggle withthe angry waters, find themselves on solid land, free to run and leapto their heart's content. They had shaken off the incubus, and nowsped forward with renewed speed and ease. The small feet of the dogsslipped occasionally, but they readily secured enough grip, and thesleighs, hardly scratching the frozen surface, required but afractional part of their strength. Several uttered their odd barks ofpleasure, at finding their labor so suddenly turned into what might becalled a frolic.
But the wild men were a source of never-ending wonder to the whites.They sped forward through the soft snow, with no more apparent effortthan the skilled skater puts forth, and when they struck the smoothsurface, they became more like skaters than snow-shoe travelers. Theycracked their whips about the ears of the dogs, called sharply, andmade them yelp from the stinging bites of the whips handled with adexterity that would have flicked off a fly from the front dog's ears,had there been one there.
(If we were not opposed to all forms of slang, we would be tempted tosay just here that there are no flies on the Esquimaux canines.)
The brutes were quick to respond, and galloped swiftly with theirdrivers skimming by their side, holding them to the task by theircontinued orders and cracking of whips. They gave no more attention tothe passengers than if they were not present.
The latter were delighted, for there was every reason why they shouldbe. Their limbs still ached from the severe exertion through whichthey had gone, and the sensation of being wrapped about with furs andfixed in a comfortable seat was pleasant of itself. Then to know thatthey were speeding toward safety--what more could be asked?
The sleigh containing Jack Cosgrove was in the advance; Rob came next,then Fred, while the one loaded only with peltries held its place atthe rear.
When the smooth surface was reached, they drew quite near each other,the friends finding themselves almost side by side.
"This is what I call ginooine pleasure," said the sailor, turning hishead and addressing the boys.
"Yes, I'm enjoying it," replied Rob.
"So am I," added Fred; "it makes up for what we suffered."
"We'll skim along in this style all day as if we was on the sea in adead calm; nothing like a capsize--"
At that very moment, the sailor's sleigh went over.