CHAPTER NINETEEN.
SPRING RETURNS--KAYAK EVOLUTIONS--ANGUT IS PUZZLED.
Why some people should wink and blink as well as smirk when they arecomfortable is a question which might possibly be answered by cats ifthey could speak, but which we do not profess to understand.Nevertheless we are bound to record the fact that on the very day whenNunaga and her invalids drew near to the first Moravian settlements inGreenland, Ippegoo slowly mounted a hillside which overlooked the icysea, flung himself down on a moss-clad bank, and began to wink and blinkand smirk in a way that surpassed the most comfortable cat that everrevelled on rug or slumbered in sunshine.
Ippegoo was supremely happy, and his felicity, like that of most simplefolk, reposed on a simple basis. It was merely this--that Spring hadreturned to the Arctic regions.
Spring! Ha! who among the dwellers in our favoured land has thefaintest idea of--of--pooh!--words are wanting. The British poets,alive and dead, have sung of Spring, and doubtless have fancied thatthey understood it. They had no more idea of what they were singingabout than--than the man in the moon, if we may venture to use a ratherhackneyed comparison. Listen, reader, humbly, as becometh the ignorant.
Imagine yourself an Eskimo. Don't overdo it. You need not inimagination adopt the hairy garments, or smear yourself with oil, or eatraw blubber. For our purpose it will suffice to transport yourself intothe Arctic regions, and invest yourself with the average intelligence ofan ordinary human being who has not been debased by the artificial evilsthat surround modern civilisation, or demoralised by strong drink. Inthis condition of happy simplicity you draw near to the end of an Arcticwinter.
During eight months or so you have been more or less shrivelled-up,petrified, mummified, by frost of the most intense and well-nighintolerable description. Your whole body has frequently been pierced bywinds, the constituents of which seemed to be needles and fire. Shelterhas been one of your chief subjects of meditation every day--ofttimesall day; unwillingness to quit that shelter and eagerness to return toit being your dominant characteristic. Darkness palpable has beenaround you for many weeks, followed by a twilight of gloom so prolongedthat you _feel_ as if light were a long-past memory. Your eyes havebecome so accustomed to ice and snow that white, or rather whitey-grey,has long since usurped and exclusively held the place of colour in yourimagination, so that even black--a black cliff or a black rock croppingup out of the snow--becomes a mitigated joy. Your ears have been soattuned to the howling blast with interludes of dead calm and variationsof rending icebergs and bellowing walrus accompaniments, that melodiousharmonies have fled affrighted from your brain. As for yournose--_esprit de marrow fat_, extract of singed hide, essence oflamp-smoke, _eau de cuisine_, and de-oxygenised atmosphere of snow-hut,have often inclined you to dash into the open air, regardless of frostand snow, for purposes of revivification. Imagine all these thingsintensified to the uttermost, and prolonged to nigh the limits ofendurance, so that genial ideas and softening influences seem to havebecome things of the long-forgotten past, and _then_ try to imagine achange, compared to which all the transformation scenes of all thepantomimes that ever blazed are as a tomtit's chirp to a lion's roar, ora--a--Words fail again! No matter.
But don't give in yet. Try, now, to imagine this sudden transformationwrought, perhaps, in a few days to the slow music of southern zephyrs,bearing on their wings light, and heat, and sunshine. Your ear issurprised--absolutely startled--by the sound of trickling water. Oldmemories that you thought were dead come back in the trumpet of thewild-goose, the whistling wing of the duck, the plaintive cry of theplover. Your nose--ah! your nose cocks up and snuffs a smell--pardon!--a scent. It is the scent of the great orb on which you stand, saturated_at last_ with life-giving water, and beginning to vivify all the greenthings that have so long been hidden in her capacious bosom.
But it is to your eye, perhaps, that the strongest appeal is made, forwhile you throw off one by one the garments which have protected you forso many months, and open up body and soul to the loved, long-absent,influences of warmth, and sound, and odour, your eye drinks up themighty draughts of light--light not only blazing in the blue above, butreflected from the blue below--for the solid ice-fields are now splitinto fragments; the swell of old Ocean sends a musical ripple to theshore; great icebergs are being shed from their parent glaciers, and areseen floating away in solemn procession to the south, lifting theirpinnacles towards their grandparent clouds, until finally reduced to themelting mood, and merged in their great-grandparent the sea. Imaginesuch visions and sensations coming suddenly, almost as a surprise, atthe end of the stern Arctic winter, and then, perchance, you will havesome idea of the bounding joy that fills the soul on the advent ofSpring, inducing it to feel, if not to say, "Let every thing that hathbreath praise the Lord."
_This_ is Spring! The Eskimos understand it, and so do the dwellers inRupert's Land; perchance, also, the poor exiles of Siberia--but thepoets--pooh!
Far down below the perch occupied by Ippegoo lay a little sandy bay,around which were scattered a number of Eskimo huts--rude and temporarybuildings, meant to afford shelter for a time and then be forsaken.This was the bay which Angut, Okiok, Simek, Red Rooney, and the othershad reached in their pursuit of the wizard when the ice broke up andeffectually stopped them.
As it was utterly impossible to advance farther with dog and sledge,they were compelled to restrain their impatience as best they could, andawait open water, when they might resume their journey in kayaks.Meanwhile, as there was a lead of open water to the northward as far asthey could see, the youth Arbalik had been despatched with a smallsledge and four of the strongest dogs along the strip of land-ice, or"ice-foot," which clung to the shore. His mission was to reach thevillage, and fetch Nuna, Pussimek, Kunelik, Sigokow, and his own mother,in one of the oomiaks or women's boats when open water should permit.
It was while our Eskimos were thus idly waiting for their wives, thatthe before-mentioned southern Eskimos arrived, and met them with everydemonstration of friendliness and good-will.
These men, who had been forced to make a long, difficult detour inlandafter the ice gave way, were not a little pleased to find that theice-foot to the northward was still practicable, and that the Eskimovillage was so near. Of course they told of their meeting with Ujarak'ssledge, which rendered inaction on the part of the pursuers still moreunbearable. But they were all men who could accept the inevitable witha good grace, and as they knew it was impossible to advance withoutkayaks and oomiaks, they awaited the return of Arbalik as patiently aspossible. Meanwhile they made themselves agreeable to the new arrivals,whose hearts they gladdened by telling them that their friends in thenorth had plenty of narwhal horns and bones and walrus tusks and sinewsto exchange for their wood and iron.
But to return to Ippegoo on his distant and elevated outlook.
While he gazed at the busy groups below, our weak-minded youth observedtwo of the party step into kayaks which lay on the beach, push off intothe bay, and commence what may be styled "kayak exercise." As Ippegoogreatly enjoyed witnessing such exercises, he threw off his lethargy,and, leaping up, quickly descended to the shore. The kayaks were oldones which had been found by the party on arriving at the desertedvillage. They had probably been left as useless by previous visitors,but Okiok's boys, Norrak and Ermigit, being energetic and ingeniousfellows, had set to work with fish-bone-needles and sinew-threads, andrepaired them with sealskin patches. They were now about to test theirworkmanship and practise their drill.
"Do they leak?" shouted Okiok, as the lads pushed off.
"Not more than I can soak up," replied Norrak, looking back with alaugh.
"Only a little," cried Ermigit, "and hoh! the water is still very cold."
"Paddle hard, and you'll soon warm it," cried Rooney.
When they had got fairly off, a spirit of emulation seized the brothers,and, without a direct challenge, they paddled side by side, graduallyincreasing their efforts, until they w
ere putting forth their utmostexertions, and going through the water at racing speed.
"Well done, Norrak!" shouted the father, in rising excitement.
"Not so fast, Ermigit; not so fast," roared Simek.
Heedless of the advice, the brothers pushed on until they were broughtup by the pack-ice at the mouth of the bay. Here they turned as quicklyas possible, and raced back with such equal speed that they came inclose together--so close that it was impossible for those on shore tojudge which was winning as they approached.
As in all similar cases--whether on the Thames or on the Greenlandseas--excitement became intense as the competitors neared the goal.They were still a hundred yards or so from land, when Ermigit missed astroke of his paddle. The consequence was that the kayak overturned,and Ermigit disappeared.
A kayak, as is generally known, is a very long and narrow canoe, made ofa light wooden frame, and covered all over with sealskin with theexception of a single hole, in what may be called the deck, which isjust big enough to admit one man. This hole is surrounded by a strip ofwood, which prevents water washing into the canoe, and serves as a ledgeover which the Eskimo fastens his sealskin coat. As canoe and coat arewaterproof, the paddler is kept dry, even in rough weather, and thesecockle-shell craft will ride on a sea that would swamp an open boat.But the kayak is easily overturned, and if the paddler is not expert inthe use of his paddle, he runs a chance of being drowned, for it is noteasy to disengage himself from his craft. Constant practice, however,makes most natives as expert and fearless as tight-rope dancers, andquite as safe.
No sooner, therefore, did Ermigit find himself in the water, headdownwards, than, with a rapid and peculiar action of the paddle, he senthimself quite round and up on the other side into the right position--dripping, however, like a seal emerging from the sea. He lost the race,as a matter of course. Norrak, after touching the beach, returned toErmigit, laughing at his mishap.
"You laugh," said his brother somewhat sharply, "but you cannot do thatas quickly as I did it."
Without a word of reply, Norrak threw himself on one side, vanished inthe water, and came up on the other side in a decidedly shorter time.
"Well done!" cried Ermigit, who was, in truth, a good-natured fellow;"come, let us practise."
"Agreed," responded Norrak; and both brothers pushed a little nearer toland, so that their father and the others might observe and criticisetheir evolutions. As the exercises which they went through arepractised by Eskimos in order to fit them to cope with the accidents andemergencies of actual life, we will briefly describe them.
First Norrak leaned over on one side, of course carrying the kayak withhim, until his body lay on the water, in which position he maintainedhimself and prevented a total overset by manipulating his paddle, andthen, with a downward dash of the blade and a vigorous jerk of his body,he regained his position, amid expressions of approval from the shore.Having performed the same feat on the other side, he nodded to Ermigit,and said--
"Now you go to work."
Ermigit went to work so well, that even a critical judge could not havepronounced him better or worse than his brother. After that they bothrepeated the complete overturn and recovery already described. In thiseffort, however, the lads had the free use of their paddles; but as inactual service the paddle may easily get entangled with straps andfishing cordage, a special exercise is arranged to prepare the hunteragainst such misfortunes.
Accordingly Norrak pushed one blade of his paddle among the straps andcordage, overset the kayak, and worked himself up again with a quickmotion of the other blade. Of course this was not done either easily orquickly. Nevertheless, it was accomplished by both lads to the entiresatisfaction of their critics.
Next, they performed the same feat of upsetting and recovering positionwith the paddle held fast behind their backs, and then with it heldacross the nape of the neck--and in several other positions, all ofwhich represented cases of possible entanglement.
Sometimes, however, the paddle may be lost in an upset. This is themost serious misfortune that can befall a hunter. To prepare for it,therefore, the Eskimo boys and youths have a special drill, which Norraknow proceeded to go through. Overturning his kayak as before, hepurposely let go the oar in the act, so that it floated on the water,and then, while thus inverted, he made an upward grasp, caught thepaddle, pulled it down, and with it recovered his position. There wouldhave been great danger in this if he had been alone, for in the event ofhis failing to catch the paddle he would probably have been drowned, butwith Ermigit at hand to help, there was no danger.
Other exercises there are which the sons of Okiok were not able topractise at that time because of the weather being unsuitable. One ofthese consists in threading their way among sunken rocks and dashingsurges; another, in breasting the billows of a tempest. It must not besupposed that all Eskimos become efficient in rough work of this kind.Many do become exceedingly expert, others moderately so; but some thereare who, although very fair seal-hunters, never become experts in themanagement of the kayak, and who, in cases of great difficulty, are aptto be lost during the seasons of seal-fishing.
Now, it chanced while the youths were thus training themselves forfuture work, that a solitary seal put up its head, as if to have a lookat the state of things in general above water. It also chanced that theEskimos were to leeward of him, and a blaze of sunshine was at theirbacks, so that the seal when looking towards its human foes had its eyesdazzled. Ermigit had no weapons at the time, but by good-fortune aharpoon, line, and bladder were attached to Norrak's vessel.
As the cat pounces on the unwary mouse, so Norrak, crouching low, dippedhis paddle twice with noiseless vigour, and shot his craft like an arrowtowards the seal. It happened to be a stupid attarsoak, and it raisedits bullet head with a look that said plainly, "What, in all the ocean,is that queer thing in the sunshine?"
Half a minute brought that queer thing in the sunshine within ten yardsof him. Norrak grasped the light harpoon, and sent it whistling to itsmark. Truer than the needle to the pole the weapon went, carrying itsline with it, and sank deep into the shoulder of the seal.
Ermigit, meanwhile, had made for the shore, got a lance thrown to him bythe excited Okiok, received an encouraging nod from Rooney with anEnglish recommendation to "go it," and was off again to render aid. Andnot a moment too soon did that aid come, for, contrary to usualexperience, that seal--instead of diving, and giving them an hour's hotpursuit--made a furious assault on Norrak. Probably the spear hadtouched it in a tender spot. At all events the creature's ire wasroused to such an extent that when it reached him it seized the kayakand tore a large hole in it. Down went the bow, as a matter of course,and up went the stern. Norrak hastily disengaged himself, so as to beready to spring clear of the sinking wreck, and was on the point ofjumping out when his brother's kayak shot past him, and Ermigit sent aspear deep into the vitals of the seal--so deep, indeed, that it turnedover and died without a groan.
By that time Norrak was in the water, but he made a vigorous grasp athis brother's kayak with one hand, while with the other he clutched theline of the harpoon--for well did he know that dead seals sink, and thatif it went down it would perhaps carry the bladder along with it, and sobe lost.
"Give me the line, brother," said Ermigit, extending a hand.
"No. I can hold it. You make for shore--quick." Ermigit plied hispaddle with a will, and in a few minutes reached the shore with Norrak,bladder, line, and seal like a huge tail behind him.
Need we say that they were received by their friends, as well as by thestrange Eskimos, with enthusiasm? We think not. Neither is itnecessary to comment on the enjoyment they found that night in a supperof fresh meat, and in fighting the battle, as well as a good many otherbattles, over again. But in the midst of it all there was a cloud onthe brows of Angut, Simek, and Okiok, for their anxiety about the fateof Nunaga, Pussi, and Tumbler was intense.
Angut was particularly restless during the nigh
t, and got up severaltimes to take a look at the weather, as Rooney expressed it.
On one of these occasions he found the Kablunet standing by the shore ofthe calm sea.
"I don't like the look o' things," said Rooney, giving a sailor-likeglance at the horizon and the sky. "It seems to me as if we were goin'to have dirty weather."
Instead of replying to this remark, the Eskimo looked earnestly at hisfriend, and asked--
"Can Ridroonee tell me why the Great Spirit allows men to do evil?"
"No, Angut, no. That is beyond my knowledge. Indeed I remember puttin'the same question, or somethin' like it, to a learned man in my country,and he said it is beyond the knowledge of the wisest men that have everlived--so it's no wonder that it's beyond you and me."
"But the Great Spirit is good," said Angut, rather as if he weresoliloquising than addressing his friend.
"Yes; He is good--_must_ be good," returned the sailor; "it cannot beotherwise."
"Then why does evil exist?" asked Angut quickly. "Why did He make evil?You have told me He made everything."
"So He did, but evil is not a _thing_. It is a state of being, so tospeak."
"It is a great mystery," said Angut.
"It would be a greater mystery," returned the seaman, "if the GreatSpirit was _not_ mysterious."
"He has allowed Ujarak to carry off Nunaga, though she loves not Ujarak,and Ujarak does not love her, else he could not have treated her sobadly. Why did the Great Spirit allow that?" demanded the Eskimo, withsome bitterness of tone.
"I know not, Angut, yet I know it is for good, because the Great Spiritis our Great Father, and if human fathers know how to treat theirchildren well, does the Great Father of all not know?"
The Eskimo gravely bowed his head in assent to this proposition, and theseaman continued--
"I have spoken to you more than once, Angut, about the men in our landcalled surgeons--that you call knife-men,--how they will cut and carveyour body, and tie you down sometimes, and give you terrible andprolonged suffering for the purpose of curing you and relieving yourpain."
"True," replied Angut, who at once saw the drift of his friend's remark;"but then you _know_ that the knife-man's object is good. It is tocure, to relieve."
"But suppose," argued Rooney, "that you did _not_ know that his objectwas good--that you looked on him as a cruel, bloody, heartless monster,who cared not for your cries of pain--would your ignorance change hischaracter?"
"No, no; he would remain good, whatever you might think," said Angutquickly; "I see. I see. I will try to think as you think--the GreatFather is good, _must_ be good. And He will prove it some day. Don'tyou think so, Ridroonee?"
"Ay, truly, I think so; I am sure of it. But listen! Do you not hearsounds?"
They both listened intently, and gazed towards the northern headland ofthe bay, which at the time was bathed in brilliant moonlight. Presentlytwo black specks, one larger than the other, were seen to round thepoint, and the chattering of women's voices was heard.
It was Arbalik in a kayak, preceding an oomiak propelled by severalwomen. In her impatience to join her lord, Madame Okiok had insisted ona forced march. A few minutes more, and the women landed amid noisydemonstrations of satisfaction. Ere long the united party were busyround the unfailing lamps, enjoying social intercourse over anintermediate meal which, as it came between supper and breakfast, hasnot yet obtained a name.
Red Rooney: The Last of the Crew Page 19
