THE MUSK-OX.
Rejoicing that we trod on firm land once more, Paul Reeves, Hans
Peterkin, and I set off to shoot on the great Island of Sermesoak,
which is divided from the mainland of Greenland by the Fin Whale
Strait, while Hartly arranged with the Danish resident at the village
for such supplies of fresh food as a place so poor could afford.
Leaving the Isle of Bears, we ran our boat into a creek called
Cunninghame's Haven, from John Cunninghame, a Scotsman, who was
Admiral of Denmark, and who, on his return from Davis' Straits, in
1605, appeared off Greenland with three ships, and carried away some
of the natives, whom he presented to Christian IV., together with a
chain weighing twenty-six ounces, formed of fine silver, found by him
among the rocks at a place still named Cunninghame's Fiord.
With all our anxiety to add to the fresh provisions on board, we were
not without a desire to encounter some of the bears with which one
always associates the name of Greenland; and ere twenty-four hours
elapsed, I was certainly gratified to the fullest extent in that way.
The people of Sermesoak were then in consternation, owing to the
depredations of a fierce herd of Bruins which had crossed the strait
from the mainland, and devoured many of their children, dogs, and
reindeer.
These bears are as revengeful and subtle as they are savage. "Some
years ago," says a traveller, "the crew of a boat belonging to a ship
in the whale-fishery shot at a bear and wounded it. The animal
immediately uttered the most dreadful howl, and ran along the ice
towards the boat. Before he reached it a second shot hit him; this,
however, served but to increase his fury. He presently swam to the
boat, and in attempting to get on board, placed one of his fore-feet
on the gunnel; but a sailor, having a hatchet in his hand, cut it
off. The animal still continued to swim after them, till they
arrived at the ship; several shots were fired at him which took
effect, but on reaching the ship he ascended to the deck; and the
crew having fled into the shrouds, he was actually pursuing them
_thither_ when a shot laid him lifeless on the deck."
Allured by the odour of the seal oil, they had surrounded and broken
into the dwellings of the natives in herds, and devoured them in
their beds; and numerous stories of these terrible _raids_ were told
to Hans (who knew something of the language) by the people of
Sermesoak, as we set out on our expedition.
We shot several white hares, and consigned them to a large canvas bag
which Hans had slung over his shoulder. In our sporting ardour we
penetrated several miles into the country, and in making a détour to
beat up for nobler game, I lost my companions among the furze-covered
rocks of a ravine. Dusk was coming on, and, wearied with halloing, I
sat down to look around me. I was quite alone and in a strange
place, but more safe and comfortable in every way than when I was
alone on the ice-floe. Though in a foreign and barbarous country,
this reflection set my mind completely at ease.
A wild and dreary scene lay around me.
Mountains piled on mountains of stern rock rose on every side,
covered with snow unmarked by footstep, track, or road. No trees
were growing there and no verdure was visible, save some patches of
short grass and moss where the wind had torn the snow from the rocky
surface. It seemed as if the icy breath of the Northern Sea, when it
swept through the Fin Whale Strait, destroyed all vegetable nature;
and as for the flowers of spring, one might as well have looked for
them on an iceberg.
Why that country was named the _Green_land, Heaven only knows!
In 1610, Jonas Pool, a whaling captain, called it King James'
Newland, from James VI. of Scotland; but that name was soon forgotten.
Above me impended a bluff of sullen aspect, the rifts of which formed
the eyrie of myriads of white sea-gulls and birds like the great
Solan goose of the Scottish isles; and these were whirring,
screaming, and booming on their broad pinions, as they came home from
the shore.
As the shadows deepened, even these sounds ceased, and nothing met
the ear but the croak of a lonely raven which sat on a granite
boulder.
Far away in distance, down below me, stretched the headlands which
jutted into the deep blue waters of the Whale Strait--starting up in
fantastic pinnacles and precipitous ridges, like the towers and
turrets of crumbling castles. These walls of rock were black and
sombre, though their summits were crowned by eternal snow.
From the mountains the sleet and melting snows of ages have long
since washed away every grain of earth; hence, no verdure can spring
there, and their rugged fronts present the most harsh and singular
outlines. The higher ridges are rendered inaccessible by glaciers;
and when the snows melt from their gloomy lichened fronts, long and
silvery runnels, that seem like threads in the distance, trickle down
the precipices; then winter comes again, converting these runnels
into ice, which splits and rends the hardest rock to fragments, that
roll with the sound of thunder down the steep glaciers into the
valleys below.
Leaning on my gun, I was surveying this wild and dreary scene, and
careless alike of the cold and the coming night, was lost in reverie,
when a sound aroused me, and on looking up, I saw close by an animal
of strange form, such as I had never seen before, even in a menagerie.
It was larger than a pony, but had singularly short limbs, which were
almost entirely concealed by the long dark hair that covered all its
body, and reached nearly to the ground. It had a short tail, and
large crooked horns of powerful aspect, with a mass of hair like a
horse's mane hanging beard-wise under its throat.
A very strange sensation comes over one on beholding an unknown
animal for the first time, and on this musk-ox--for such it
was--approaching, with its large projecting eyes glaring, and while
shaking those formidable horns, by which it can encounter and slay
the bear and walrus, astonishment soon gave place to alarm, and I
regretted more than ever the absence of my two comrades.
The ox was only a pistol-shot distant, so, with my heart beating
quickly--as I knew not what the sequel might be--I levelled my gun,
and fired full at its head. The animal uttered a bellowing roar,
bounded furiously forward, and fell motionless on its side.
The ball had pierced its brain.
With a thousand echoes, the report of my gun rang among the hills of
rock, peak after peak seeming to catch the sound and toss it from one
to the other, until it died away on the wind that blew through the
Fin Whale Strait.
I was not without hope that the sound might reach Reeves and Hans
Peterkin, and guide them towards me; but I hoped in vain.
The ox I had slain was one of the largest of the Musk species, and
might have weighed, perhaps, seven hundredweight. It would, I knew,
prove a most acceptable addition to our scanty stores on board the
_Leda_; moreover, I was not a little vain of having slain, by a
single ball, an animal so large and so little known by Europeans; but
_how_ to get it conveyed to the brig, or how to guide any of our crew
to the spot where it lay, were puzzling queries.
I observed that at the distance of a hundred yards from it, there
rose a steep and rugged rock, cleft into three singular peaks, so
lofty as to be visible from a great distance. Conceiving this to be
a sufficient landmark, I reloaded my gun, and resolved, if possible,
to discover Cunninghame's Haven, where our boat lay. Without a
track, a road, or native to guide me, I toiled over the steep and
rugged mountains, and through ravines and hollows half filled with
drifted snow, steering my way by the stars in that direction which I
conceived might lead me to our boat.
To enhance the wildness and gloomy grandeur of the scenery, there now
came a wondrous and fan-shaped light over all the clear cold blue of
the northern sky--a glorious Aurora Borealis. This light, sent by
Heaven to cheer the lone denizens of that frozen wilderness, spread a
rich and wavering glow over all the northern firmament, playing in
streaks or lines that alternately faded away, and resumed their
dazzling brilliance. These alternations fill with awe the simple
Greenlander, who calls them the _Merry Dancers_, and who deems,
"By the streamers that shoot so bright,
The spirits are riding the Northern light."
At times, the whole sky seemed a blaze of diamond-like light, tinged
with rainbow hues, and in front of these, the stern rocks, crags, and
mountains stood forth in sharp black outline. Ever and anon, an
electrical meteor shot athwart the sky, leaving, as these falling
stars always do, a train of momentary light.
Frequently the long streamers played across this luminous white
radiance as if a mighty fan were being opened and shut, or like the
spokes of some revolving wheel whose axle was at the Pole. Then a
burst of glory would open in the zenith, and for a moment every
feature in the desolate landscape and the far-stretching vista of the
Whale Strait between its walls of rocks would be distinctly visible.
Alone in that sterile solitude, I gazed upon the Aurora with emotions
of mingled awe and wonder, turning again and again to the north, as I
stumbled over rocks and frozen snow piles in my efforts to discover a
path that led to Cunninghame's Haven; so the result was this--that
after more than an hour of toil, I found that I had been proceeding
in a circle, and came back to the place from whence I had set out,
the bluff with the three pinnacles, at the foot of which my musk-ox
was lying; but there a very singular scene presented itself, for my
property had already been converted into a banquet by two denizens of
the wilderness.