CHAPTER THREE.
SHOWS HOW THE ESKIMOS WERE ENTERTAINED BY THE WHITE MEN.
The _Whitebear_ steam yacht, owned and commanded by Captain Jacob Vane,had sailed from England, and was bound for the North Pole.
"I'll find it--I'm bound to find it," was the Captain's usual mode ofexpressing himself to his intimates on the subject, "if there's a NorthPole in the world at all, and my nephews Leo and Alf will help me.Leo's a doctor, _almost_, and Alf's a scientific Jack-of-all-trades, sowe can't fail. I'll take my boy Benjy for the benefit of his health,and see if we don't bring home a chip o' the Pole big enough to set upbeside Cleopatra's Needle on the Thames embankment."
There was tremendous energy in Captain Vane, and indomitable resolution;but energy and resolution cannot achieve all things. There are otherfactors in the life of man which help to mould his destiny.
Short and sad and terrible--ay, we might even say tremendous--was the_Whitebear's_ wild career.
Up to the time of her meeting with the Eskimos, all had gone well. Fairweather and favouring winds had blown her across the Atlantic. Sunshineand success had received her, as it were, in the Arctic regions. Thesea was unusually free of ice. Upernavik, the last of the Greenlandsettlements touched at, was reached early in the season, and the nativeinterpreter Anders secured. The dreaded "middle passage," near the headof Baffin's Bay, was made in the remarkably short space of fifty hours,and, passing Cape York into the North Water, they entered Smith's Soundwithout having received more than a passing bump--an Arctic kiss as itwere--from the Polar ice.
In Smith's Sound fortune still favoured them. These resolute intendingdiscoverers of the North Pole passed in succession the various"farthests" of previous explorers, and the stout brothers Vandervell,with their cousin Benjy Vane, gazed eagerly over the bulwarks at theswiftly-passing headlands, while the Captain pointed out the places ofinterest, and kept up a running commentary on the brave deeds and highaspirations of such well-known men as Frobisher, Davis, Hudson, Ross,Parry, Franklin, Kane, McClure, Rae, McClintock, Hayes, Hall, Nares,Markham, and all the other heroes of Arctic story.
It was an era in the career of those three youths that stood out brightand fresh--never to be forgotten--this first burst of the realities ofthe Arctic world on minds which had been previously well informed bybooks. The climax was reached on the day when the Eskimos of the farnorth were met with.
But from that time a change took place in their experience. Fortuneseemed to frown from that memorable day. We say "seemed," becauseknitted brows do not always or necessarily indicate what is meant by afrown.
After the first fears of the Eskimos had been allayed, a party of themwere invited to go on board the ship. They accepted the invitation andwent, headed by Chingatok.
That noble savage required no persuasion. From the first he had shownhimself to be utterly devoid of fear. He felt that the grand craving ofhis nature--a thirst for knowledge--was about to be gratified, and thatwould have encouraged him to risk anything, even if he had been muchless of a hero than he was.
But if fear had no influence over our giant, the same cannot be said ofhis companions. Oolichuk, indeed, was almost as bold, though heexhibited a considerable amount of caution in his looks and movements;but Eemerk, and one or two of his friends, betrayed their craven spiritsin frequent startled looks and changing colour. Ivitchuk was a strangecompound of nervousness and courage, while Akeetolik appeared to havelost the power of expressing every feeling but one--that of blankamazement. Indeed, surprise at what they saw on board the steam yachtwas the predominant feeling amongst these children of nature. Theireyebrows seemed to have gone up and fixed themselves in the middle oftheir foreheads, and their eyes and mouths to have opened widepermanently. None of the women accepted the invitation to go aboardexcept Tekkona, and Oblooria followed her, not because she wascourageous, but because she seemed to cling to the stronger nature as aprotection from undefined and mysterious dangers.
"Tell them," said Captain Vane to Anders, the Eskimo interpreter, "thatthese are the machines that drive the ship along when there is no wind."
He pointed down the hatchway, where the complication of rods and cranksglistened in the hold.
"Huk!" exclaimed the Eskimos. They sometimes exclaimed Hi! ho! hoy! andhah! as things were pointed out to them, but did not venture on languagemore intelligible at first.
"Let 'em hear the steam-whistle," suggested the mate.
Before the Captain could countermand the order, Benjy had touched thehandle and let off a short, sharp _skirl_. The effect on the nativeswas powerful.
They leaped, with a simultaneous yell, at least a foot off the deck,with the exception of Chingatok, though even he was visibly startled,while Oblooria seized Tekkona round the waist, and buried her face inher friend's jacket.
A brief explanation soon restored them to equanimity, and they wereabout to pass on to some other object of interest, when both thesteam-whistle and the escape-valve were suddenly opened to their fullextent, and there issued from the engine a hissing yell so prolonged anddeafening that even the Captain's angry shout was not heard.
A yard at least was the leap into the air made by the weakest of theEskimos--except our giant, who seemed, however, to shrink into himself,while he grasped his knife and looked cautiously round, as if to guardhimself from any foe that might appear. Eemerk fairly turned and fledto the stern of the yacht, over which he would certainly have plungedhad he not been forcibly restrained by two stout seamen. The others,trembling violently, stood still, because they knew not what to do, andpoor Oblooria fell flat on the deck, catching Tekkona by the tail, andpulling her down beside her.
"You scoundrel!" exclaimed the Captain, when the din ceased, "I--I--godown, sir, to--"
"Oh! father, don't be hard on me," pleaded Benjy, with a gleefullyhorrified look, "I really could _not_ resist it. The--the temptationwas too strong!"
"The temptation to give you a rope's-ending is almost too strong for_me_, Benjamin," returned the Captain sternly, but there was a twinklein his eye notwithstanding, as he turned to explain to Chingatok thathis son had, by way of jest, allowed part of the mighty Power imprisonedin the machinery to escape.
The Eskimo received the explanation with dignified gravity, and a faintsmile played on his lips as he glanced approvingly at Benjy, for heloved a jest, and was keenly alive to a touch of humour.
"What power is imprisoned in the machinery?" asked our Eskimo throughthe interpreter.
"What power?" repeated the Captain with a puzzled look, "why, it'sboiling water--steam." Here he tried to give a clear account of thenature and power and application of steam, but, not being gifted withcapacity for lucid explanation, and the mind of Anders beingunaccustomed to such matters, the result was that the brain of Chingatokwas filled with ideas that were fitted rather to amaze than to instructhim.
After making the tour of the vessel, the party again passed the enginehatch. Chingatok touched the interpreter quietly, and said in a low,grave tone, "Tell Blackbeard," (thus he styled the Captain), "to let thePower yell again!"
Anders glanced up in the giant's grave countenance with a look of amusedsurprise. He understood him, and whispered to the Captain, who smiledintelligently, and, turning to his son, said--
"Do it again, Benjy. Give it 'em strong."
Never before did that lad obey his father with such joyous alacrity. Inanother instant the whistle shrieked, and the escape-valve hissed tentimes more furiously than before. Up went the Eskimo--three feet ormore--as if in convulsions, and away went Eemerk to the stern, overwhich he dived, swam to the floe, leaped on his sledge, cracked hiswhip, and made for home on the wings of terror. Doubtless an evilconscience helped his cowardice.
Meanwhile Chingatok laughed, despite his struggles to be grave. Thisrevealed the trick to some of his quick-witted and humour-lovingcompanions, who at once burst into loud laughter. Even Oblooriadismissed her fears and smiled. In this restored condition they weretak
en down to the cabin and fed sumptuously.
That night, as Chingatok sat beside his mother, busy with a seal's rib,he gradually revealed to her the wonders he had seen.
"The white men are very wise, mother."
"So you have said four times, my son."
"But you cannot understand it."
"But my son can make me understand," said Toolooha, helping the amiablegiant to a second rib.
Chingatok gazed at his little mother with a look of solemnity thatevidently perplexed her. She became restless under it, and wiped herforehead uneasily with the flap at the end of her tail. The youthseemed about to speak, but he only sighed and addressed himself to thesecond rib, over which he continued to gaze while he masticated.
"My thoughts are big, mother," he said, laying down the bare bone.
"That may well be, for so is your head, my son," she replied, gently.
"I know not how to begin, mother."
"Another rib may open your lips, perhaps," suggested the old woman,softly.
"True; give me one," said Chingatok.
The third rib seemed to have the desired effect, for, while busy withit, he began to give his parent a graphic account of the yacht and itscrew, and it was really interesting to note how correctly he describedall that he understood of what he had seen. But some of the things hehad partly failed to comprehend, and about these he was vague.
"And they have a--a Power, mother, shut up in a hard thing, so that itcan't get out unless they let it, and it drives the big canoe throughthe water. It is very strong--terrible!"
"Is it a devil?" asked Toolooha.
"No, it is not alive. It is dead. It is _that_," he pointed withemphasis to a pot hanging over the lamp out of which a little steam wasissuing, and looked at his mother with awful solemnity. She returnedthe look with something of incredulity.
"Yes, mother, the Power is not a beast. It lives not, yet it drives thewhite man's canoe, which is as big as a little iceberg, and it whistles;it shrieks; it yells!"
A slightly sorrowful look rested for a moment on Toolooha's benigncountenance. It was evident that she suspected her son either ofderangement, or having forsaken the paths of truth. But it passed likea summer cloud.
"Tell me more," she said, laying her hand affectionately on the huge armof Chingatok, who had fallen into a contemplative mood, and, with handsclasped over one knee, sat gazing upwards.
Before he could reply the heart of Toolooha was made to bound by ashriek more terrible than she had ever before heard or imagined.
Chingatok caught her by the wrist, held up a finger as if to imposesilence, smiled brightly, and listened.
Again the shriek was repeated with prolonged power.
"Tell me, my son," gasped Toolooha, "is Oblooria--are the people safe?Why came you to me alone?"
"The little sister and the people are safe. I came alone to preventyour being taken by surprise. Did I not say that it could shriek andyell? This is the white man's big canoe."
Dropping the old woman's hand as he spoke, Chingatok darted into theopen air with the agility of a Polar bear, and Toolooha followed withthe speed of an Arctic hare.
The Giant of the North: Pokings Round the Pole Page 4
