“OOMIAKSOAK TIGALAY!”—THE SHIP HAS COME!
An Eskimo Messenger—“Oomiaksoak Tigalay” (the Ship has come)—Letters
from Home—A Visit from Professor Heilprin—Distressing
Possibilities—The “Kite” leaves for Smith Sound—Return of the
“Kite”—Domestic Disturbances among the Natives—An Eskimo Woman and
Girl disappear.
Sunday, July 24. At five o’clock this morning, before I was really
awake, I heard a sharp, shrill whistle, different from the notes of the
birds that usually awake me, and before I could quite satisfy myself
that it was not a bird I heard it again, close to the tent, and also a
footstep. “Kiny-ah-una” (who is there), I called. “Awangah, oomiaksoak
tigalay” (me, the ship has come), was the answer. “Angwo” (not so), I
replied. “Shagloo nahme awangah” (me not lie), he said, and with this a
shaggy, black head was thrust into the tent, and a bundle of mail tossed
to me. The next few hours are a blank to me, for I was devouring my
mother’s letter, which took the shape of a journal that she had kept for
me. A few words from Professor Heilprin tell me that he is at Redcliffe
with a party and the old “Kite,” but he does not say who are in the
party. Now if Mr. Peary only gets back safe I shall indeed be happy. All
those dear to me have been spared, while there has been a great deal of
sickness and death everywhere.
[Illustration:
ROBERT E. PEARY, U. S. N.
]
Monday, July 25. This morning the sun came out bright, and he has shone
all day. After looking in vain for the inland ice-party, and also for a
party from the “Kite,” until two P. M., I retired to the tent to escape
the mosquitos. I told Matt he might go down to Redcliffe and see the
“Kite” party if he chose, but he said he did not care for the walk, and
would take the gun and go for a stroll. At 3.30, feeling hungry, I went
out to see if I could see anything of him, in order to know whether I
should cook for one or for two. Away off near the foot of the cliffs I
saw a lone figure, which did not look like Matt, slowly making its way
in the direction of the tent. I soon made out Professor Heilprin. He had
walked fifteen miles to pay me a visit, and we chatted for hours. It did
seem so good to talk with some one again who had been in touch with
civilization. I feel as though I had been in another world. Both mother
and brother urge me to come home, even if Mr. Peary has not returned
from the inland ice by the time the “Kite” is obliged to set sail again
for the sunny south, and the professor says his orders are to “bring
Mrs. Peary back under any circumstances.” While I do not think there is
the slightest doubt that my husband will be here before the latter part
of August, and while I fully believe that if he is not here then he will
never come, yet I could never leave while there was the faintest chance
of his being alive. I told the professor just how I felt about the
matter, and he said, “Well, we will see when the time comes.” My brother
Emil writes that I should have “some consideration for my friends and
relatives.” And what of my husband? He says further, “What good can you
do Bert on the coast while he is on the ice?” Does he suppose that if
Mr. Peary is alive he will stay on the ice the whole year round? And
when he returns and finds he is too late for the “Kite,” will that not
be disappointment enough, without finding that I, too, have deserted
him? I know just how my dear ones at home feel, and I know, too, that
they cannot long for me any more than I long for them. It will go hard
to remain—harder for me than for them, for they will know that I am well
and comfortable; and besides, they have friends and acquaintances, and
intelligent and interesting employments and amusements with which to
occupy their minds and time, while I have only a few white men and some
uncivilized people, together with three months of darkness, to make my
life pleasant. Not a very enviable existence, I am sure. As for cold,
hardship, and hunger, that is nonsense. Of course, if I feel so
inclined, I can go out and sit on an iceberg until I freeze to it, and
let the wind and snow beat upon me, even starve myself; but my tastes do
not run in that direction.
Tuesday, July 26. The “Kite” leaves to-day for Littleton Island, to be
gone three or four days. When the professor left, at 2.30 A. M., Matt
had not yet returned; I think he must have gone to the “Kite.”
Wednesday, July 27. Yesterday and to-day were bright, warm days,
although the wind blew quite strong most of the time. Matt returned from
the “Kite” yesterday morning, bringing with him a loaf of nice bread, a
veal cutlet, and a flask of brandy sent by the steward of the “Kite.”
Dr. Cook, with four Eskimos, came up in the “Mary Peary” this morning,
bringing the rest of the mail matter with him. He also brought me more
supplies, but at the same time urges me to return to Redcliffe with him.
Saturday, July 30. Once more back at Redcliffe. After considering the
matter, I decided that Mr. Peary would wish me to look after things at
our home, and although it was a great disappointment for me to leave
before the return of the ice-party, I was forced to do it. There has
been considerable excitement in our Eskimo settlement. Ikwa has beat
Mané so badly that she cannot come out of her tent; her head is cut and
bruised, and one eye is completely closed. We know of no reason for this
peculiar conduct. Kyo has gone to Igloodahominy in his kayak, the first
time during our visit that an Eskimo has ventured across the bay in a
kayak. While he was out on a seal-hunt early this morning, Klayuh, his
wife, and Tooky, her daughter, ran away. Kyo, it is said, had thrust a
knife in Klayuh’s leg several times, and he has threatened to kill
Tooky. He is now searching for the fugitives, but the whole settlement
has conspired to throw him off the track. He has already been up to the
head of the bay, and down as far as Cape Cleveland.
The “Kite” returned at nine o’clock yesterday evening, having penetrated
into Smith Sound to a position opposite Force Bay, where it was stopped
by the unbroken pack. Professor Heilprin came ashore immediately after,
and introduced to me some of his companions. Dr. Cook, who had made a
vain attempt to reach Ittiblu, returned at ten P. M. this evening; he
found the gulf impassable owing to the large quantities of loose ice
which had been detached from the glaciers, and literally choked the
basin.
[Illustration:
The “Kite” in McCormick Bay.
]
Thursday, August 4. I have lived through five days more of intense
suspense. The Eskimos console me by talking of Mr. Peary as “sinnypoh”
(dead); one of them yesterday told me that he had dreamt that only one
“kabloona” (white man) would return from the ice. To offset these dark
forebodings, and keep my spirits from sinking too low, I repeat a
paragraph in Mr. Peary’s letter, which says: “I have no doubt I shall be
with you about August 1st, but if there should be a little delay, it
will be _delay only_, and not danger. I have a hundred days’
provisions.”
The weather continues exceptionally fine, clear, bright, and warm.
Professor Heilprin, having determined to move his party to the head of
the bay, preparatory to a search on the inland ice, the “Kite” heaved
anchor at nine this morning, and is now lying opposite the point which I
only recently deserted. By the professor’s kind invitation I joined the
“Kite” party, and Matt, who has been my steady guardian since Mr.
Peary’s departure, accompanies me.
Friday, August 5. The entire relief-party left to-day for Nunatak Cache,
their object being to plant stakes seven miles apart as guide-posts on
the inland ice. I remained on board the “Kite” all day, and shall retire
early, if not to sleep, to rest.