additional shiver. This was that the boat could bear very little
pressure from the paddle. If the water pulled one way and the paddle
the other, the frail thing squirmed and twisted like a snake instead of
obeying the steersman, so that it was quite impossible to make her
respond readily or to effect a sharp turn. No doubt Dennazee discovered
this as soon as I did, but he gave no hint of it, as with intent face
and skilful arm he did his part of the work to perfection.
"The first few miles were not very bad, but we soon came to a place
where whirlpool followed whirlpool in fearfully quick succession, and I
no sooner caught my breath after escaping one than we were struggling
with another. Our canvas cockle-shell appeared to undulate over the
frothing waves rather than cut through them. I seemed to feel every
motion of the water through her thin skin. In the very thick of it I
could not help admiring the wonderful skill of the Indian in the bow.
Again and again he saved us from dashing against a rock, or whirling
around broadside to the current.
"For mile after mile we were tumbled about, and tossed from wave to wave
like a chip of bark. My heart was in my mouth. I could scarcely
breathe. My knees quaked, though my hand was firm, as, with eyes fixed
upon Dennazee, I instantly obeyed every motion of his paddle.
"In this fashion, one hairbreadth escape succeeding another, we did half
the distance unscathed, and made the shore by the aid of an eddy at the
head of the Rapids of the Drowned. These rapids got their forbidding
name from the fate of eight voyagers, who lost their lives while
attempting to run them in a large canoe. Being studded with rocks,
these rapids are extremely dangerous. As the canon widens out
sufficiently to leave a narrow beach at this point, we preferred
portaging our canvas boat to impaling her on one of the rocks.
"It was a strange thing that our sudden appearance should have so
startled two moose who were standing on the shore that, instead of
retreating up the hill, they plunged boldly into the river, of whose
pitiless power they evidently knew nothing, and were borne helplessly
away to destruction. A little later we saw their bodies stranded on a
shoal, and the sight gave me a chill as I thought that that perhaps
would be our fate, too, before we escaped from the Long Canon.
"We had hard work getting the boat and ourselves over the broken,
boulder-strown beach beside the Rapids of the Drowned, and the boat had
more than one 'close call' as we slipped and stumbled about. I've no
doubt Machard would have been glad to see it perforated with a hole
beyond repair. But by dint of great care and hard work we did manage to
bring it through uninjured, and then we halted for a rest and a bit of
dinner.
"When it came to starting again, Machard vowed he would not get aboard.
He pleaded to be allowed to follow us on foot; but I would not listen to
him. I needed him for ballast in the first place, and moreover, if we
did get through alive, I could not afford to waste half a day waiting
for him to overtake us. Drawing my revolver, I ordered him to get on
board. He obeyed, trembling, and we started again, Dennazee as
imperturbable as ever.
[Illustration: SHOOTING A FALL.]
"We had the worst part of the passage still before us. The sides of the
canon drew close together until they became lofty walls, between which
the river shot downward like a mill-race. The great black cliffs to
right and left frowned upon us as if indignantly, and at every turn in
the canon a whirlpool yawned, ready to engulf us. Again and again I
thought we were caught in a whirl, but in some marvellous manner
Dennazee extricated us, and we darted on to try our fate with another.
"Extreme as our peril was, it had a wonderful thrill and excitement
about it, and in the midst of it I found myself thinking that were I
only in a big York boat I would be shouting for joy instead of filled
with apprehension.
"The great difficulty was to keep our boat straight with the stream,
for, as I have already told you, she was so pliant that she bent and
twisted instead of keeping stiff, and more than once I felt sure she
would cave in under the tremendous pressure upon her thin sides. To
make matters worse she began to leak again, and although I commanded
Machard to bail her out with a pannikin, he did it so clumsily in his
terror that I was afraid he would upset us, and had to order him to
stop.
"We must have had an hour or more of this, when for the first time
Dennazee spoke. Turning round just for a moment he pointed ahead, and
exclaimed, 'Hell Gate!'
"I knew at once what he meant. We had almost reached the end of the
canon. There remained only Hell Gate, and our perils would be over.
_Only Hell Gate_! I've not been much of a hand at praying, but I'm not
ashamed to confess that I imitated poor Machard's example then. As for
him, the moment he heard what Dennazee said, he fell on his knees in the
bottom, and, clinging to the thwart, set to praying with all his might
and main.
"With a thrilling rush we swept around the curve and plunged into Hell
Gate. It is an awful place. The walls of the canon are two hundred
feet high, and not more than a hundred feet apart. The deep water spins
along at the rate of twenty miles an hour, while at the end is a sort of
drop into a black, dreadful pool, where the whirls are the worst of all.
"We got through the narrow passage all right, and then, with a dive that
made my heart stand still, entered the whirlpools. There were three of
them, and we struck the centre one. In spite of our desperate efforts,
it got its grip full upon us, and round and round we went like a
teetotum.
"It is not at all likely that I shall ever forget that experience. Our
flimsy craft seemed to be trying to collapse every moment. It writhed
and squirmed like a living thing, and at every turn of the awful circle
we drew nearer to its centre, which yawned to engulf us.
"I had given up all hope, and was about to throw away my paddle and
prepare for the last struggle, when suddenly there came a great rush of
water down the canon. The whirlpools all filled up and levelled over;
for one brief minute the river was on our side.
"With a whoop of delight Dennazee dug his paddle deep into the water,
and put all his strength upon it. I seconded his efforts as well as I
could. The boat hesitated, then obeyed, and moved slowly but surely
forward; and after some moments of harrowing suspense we found ourselves
floating swiftly but safely onward, with no more dangers ahead."
Cameron ceased speaking, and picked up his pipe. There was a moment of
silence, and then Fleming, drawing a deep breath, said with a quizzical
smile, "Perhaps you do know something about running rapids."
[Illustration: ESKIMO WOMAN WITH TAIL AND AMOOK, OR HOOD.]
*THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD.*
After centuries of seclusion and neglect, broken only by the infrequent
visits of ambitious seekers for the north pole, or mercenary hunters for
the right whale, and by the semi-religious, semi-commercial
ministrations of the Moravian missionaries, the Eskimos of the Labrador
and Hudson Bay region suddenly had the eyes of the world turned
inquiringly upon them.
The shocking story was published far and wide that a winter that did not
change to spring in the usual way had cut off their supply of food, and
that in consequence they were devouring one another with the ghastly
relish of a Fiji cannibal. Although this report proved untrue, happily,
the Eskimos are sufficiently interesting to attract attention at all
times, and are little enough known to furnish an adequate excuse at this
time for a brief paper upon them.
*I.*
To aid me in presenting the earliest glimpses of the Eskimos, I am
fortunate in having before me a manuscript prepared by the late Robert
Morrow of Halifax, Nova Scotia, an accomplished student of the
literatures of Iceland and Denmark.
That to the Norsemen and not to the Spaniards rightfully belongs the
credit of first discovering America is now settled, and that when the
Norsemen first touched American soil they found the Eskimos already in
possession is also certain. Yet it was not these bold adventurers that
gave these curious people the name by which they are most commonly
known. In the expressive Norse tongue they were described as
"Skraelings"--that is, the "chips, parings." The intention was not, of
course, to convey the idea that they were cordially accepted as "chips
of the old block," but, on the contrary, to show that they were regarded
by their handsome and stalwart discoverers as little better than mere
fragments of humanity--a view which, however unflattering, their squat
stature, ugly countenances, and filthy habits went far to justify.
The name "Eskimo" was given to them by the Abenaki, a tribe of Indians
in southern Labrador. It is an abbreviation of "Eskimautsik," which
means "eating raw fish," in allusion to their repulsive custom of eating
both fish and flesh without taking the preliminary trouble of cooking
it. The Eskimos themselves assert very emphatically that they are
"Innuit"--that is, "the people"--just as though they were the only
people in the world (and, by the way, it is worth noticing that each
particular tribe of these "Huskies" thinks itself the entire population
of the globe until undeceived by the advent of visitors). Their
national name, if they have one at all, is "Karalit," the plural of
"Karalik," meaning "those that stayed behind."
With reference to this latter title, Mr. Morrow points out a curious
fact, which is suggestive. Strahlenburg, in his description of the
northern part of Asia, states, on the authority of the Tartar writer
Abulgazi Chan, that Og, or Ogus Chan, who reigned in Tartary long before
the birth of Christ, made an inroad into the southern Asiatic countries,
and as some of his tribes stayed behind, they were called in reproach
"Kall-atzi," and also "Karalik." Now this "Karalik," with its plural
"Karalit," is the very name that the Eskimos give themselves. So
striking a resemblance, amounting in fact to identity, can surely be
accounted for in no other way (and for this suggestion I must assume all
responsibility) than that those who stayed behind in Tartary
subsequently moved over to the American continent.
When Eric the Red sailed across from Iceland to Greenland (somewhere
about the year 985), he found many traces of the Eskimos there: and when
Thorvald, some twenty years later, ventured as far south as Vinland,
identified as the present Martha's Vineyard (with which he was so
delighted that he exclaimed, "Here is a beautiful land, and here I wish
to raise my dwelling"), the unexpected discovery of three skin boats
upon the beach affected him and his followers much as the imprint of a
human foot did Robinson Crusoe. They found more than the boats,
however, for each boat held three men, all but one of whom they caught
and summarily despatched, for reasons that the saga discreetly forbears
to state.
But retribution followed fast. No sooner had the invaders returned to
their ships than the Skraelings attacked them in great force, and
although the Norsemen came out best in the fighting, their leader,
Thorvald, received a mortal wound. He charged his men to bury him upon
the cape "at which he had thought it best to dwell;" for, as he
pathetically added, "it may happen that it was a true word that fell
from my mouth that I should dwell here for a time." His men did as they
were bid. They set up two crosses over his grave, whose site is now
known as Summit Point. They then hastened homeward.
After the lapse of two years, one Thorfinn Karlsifori, fired by what he
heard in Iceland of the wonderful discoveries made by the hardy sons of
Eric the Red, fitted out an imposing expedition, his boats carrying one
hundred and sixty men, besides women, cattle, etc., and set sail for
Vinland. He reached his destination in safety, and remaining there for
some time, improved upon his predecessor's method of treating the
Skraelings. Instead of aimlessly killing them, he cheerfully cheated
them, getting huge packs of furs in exchange for bits of red cloth. He
has thus described his customers' chief characteristics: "These men were
black and ill-favoured, and had straight hair on their heads. They had
large eyes and broad cheeks." All of which shows that although the
Eskimos have changed their habitat since then, they have not altered
much in their appearance.
After two years of prosperous trading, the relations between the
Norsemen and the Skraelings became strained from a cause too amusing not
to be related. As already stated, the visitors brought a few of their
cattle with them, and it happened one day that a huge bull had his
feelings excited some way or other, perhaps by a piece of red cloth
thoughtlessly paraded in his view; at all events he bellowed very loud,
and charging upon the terrified Eskimos, tossed them about in the most
lively fashion. They incontinently tumbled into their boats, and,
without a word of farewell, rowed off, to the vast amusement of the
bull's owners. But the latter's laughter vanished when presently the
runaways returned "in whole ranks, like a rushing stream," and began an
attack in which the Norsemen were vanquished by sheer force of numbers,
and deemed it prudent to make off without standing upon the order of
their going.
*II.*
With the departure of the Norsemen, the curtain of obscurity falls upon
the Eskimos, and is not lifted again until we find them, not luxuriating
amid the vine-entangled forests of Vinland, but scattered far and wide
over the hideous desolation of the far north, and engaged in a ceaseless
struggle with hunger and cold. Just when they thus moved northward, and
why, does not yet appear. If their innate and intense hatred of the Red
Indian be of any service as a clue, it is, however, within the bounds of
reason to believe that they were driven from their comfortable quarters
by their more active and warlike fellow-aborigines, and given no rest
until they found it amidst the icebergs and glaciers of Labrador and
Hudson Bay, where they may now be met with in bands numbering from a
dozen to a hundred or more. Throughout the whole of this Arctic region
they fearlessly range in search of food.
The Eskimos are, in fact, the only inhabitants of a vast territory,
which includes the shores of Arctic America, the whole of Greenland, and
a tract about four hundred miles long on the Asiatic coast beyond
Behring Strait, thus extending over a distance of five thousand miles
from east to west, and three thousand two hundred miles from north to
south. Notwithstanding this wide distribution, there is a remarkable
uniformity, not only in the physical features of the Eskimos, but also
in their manners, traditions, and language. Consequently very much that
may be said of the Canadian Children of the Cold (that is, the Eskimos
of Labrador and Hudson Bay) would be equally true of the other branches
of the race.
For a great deal of interesting information concerning them we are
indebted to the writings of such men as Ribbach and Herzeburg, Moravian
missionaries, who, with a heroic zeal that only those familiar with
their lot can adequately appreciate, have devoted themselves to "the
cure of souls" among the Eskimos. There are six of these Moravian
missions scattered along the eastern coast of Labrador. Nain, the chief
one, was established as far back as 1771, Okkak in 1776, Hopedale in
1782, and Hebron, Zoar, and Ramah more recently.
The bestowal of so attractive Biblical names helps very little, however,
to mitigate the unfavourable impression produced by the forbidding
surroundings of these tiny oases almost lost in a seemingly illimitable
desert. Sheer from the sea, except where broken by frequent gulf and
fiord, the coast line towers up in tremendous and unpitying sternness,
and at its base the breakers thunder with a force and fury that knows
little pause throughout the year. From end to end the shore is jagged
like a gigantic saw with innumerable bays and inlets, sprinkled thick
with islands and underlaid with hidden reefs, which makes these waters
difficult to find and dangerous to navigate.
The interior of the country is equally repellent. Although toward the
west it becomes less mountainous and slightly undulating, like the
American prairie, it presents nothing but an inhospitable and savage
wilderness, covered with immense forests, broken by numerous swamps and
lakes, and untouched by human foot, save when now and then a band of Red
Indians venture thither, lured by the hope of food and fur.
The Eskimos upon the eastern coast of Labrador are, as a rule, small of
stature, not much exceeding five feet. Those upon the western shore,
however, are taller and more robust; they are quite strongly built, with
hair and beard sweeping down over the shoulders and chest. When the
good seed sown by the patient missionary finds lodging in a Husky's
heart, he usually signalizes his adoption of Christianity by indulging
in a clean shave, or at least by cutting his beard short with a pair of
scissors, in deference perhaps to the judgment of St. Paul that "if a
man have long hair, it is a shame unto him."
They have small, soft hands, broad shoulders, big flat faces, large,
round heads, and short, stubby noses,
"Tip-tilted, like the petals of a flower,"
and very generous mouths, which, being nearly always on the broad grin,
make free display of fine rows of sharp, white teeth. In complexion
they are tawny and ruddy, and the face is of a much darker shade than
the body. At spring-time, when the sun's burning rays are reflected from
glistening banks of snow, they become almost as black in the face as
negroes; but new-born babes may be seen as fair as any English child.
Their eyes are small and almost uniformly black, and peep brightly out
at you from underneath a perfect forest of brow and lash. Their hair is
black, also, and very thick and coarse.
Their ordinary food is the flesh of the seal, with its attendant
blubber, and the fish that abound along the shore. They are not
particular whether their dinner is cooked or not, and I seriously
question whether a professional pugilist in the height of his training
could swallow his beef-steak as "rare" as the Eskimos will their seal
cutlets. They are also very partial to tallow, soap, fish oil, and such
things, which they look upon as great delicacies, a big tallow candle
being rather more of a treat to an Eskimo youngster than a stick of
candy to a civilized small boy.
That these peculiar and decidedly repulsive tastes are, after all,
bottomed on the laws of nature, is clearly shown by the fact that when
the natives around a mission station adopt a European diet (and they
soon become passionately fond of bread and biscuits) they inevitably
grow weak and incapable of standing the intense cold. When Joe, that
heroic Eskimo who supported Hall's expedition by his hunting, after Hall
himself had died, was transplanted to America and thence to England, he
soon languished and grew consumptive, despite every effort to preserve
his health. On joining Captain Young in the _Pandora_, his only remark,
uttered with a depth of eager, confident hope that was very touching,
was, "By-and-by get little seal meat; then all right,"--a prediction
that was fulfilled to the very letter when he regained his native ice.
As soon as they killed their first seal Joe was given free rein, and he
began to revive at once. His hollow cheeks resumed their old-time
chubbiness (and smeariness too, no doubt), his languor left him, and he
was, in short, another man.
The seal is, in fact, everything to the Eskimo. What the buffalo was to
the American Indian, what the reindeer is to the European Laplander, all
that, and still more, is the seal to these Children of the Cold. Upon
its meat and blubber they feed. With its fur they are clothed. By its
oil they are warmed and lighted. Stretched upon appropriate framework,
its skin makes them sea-worthy boats and weather-proof tents. While,
unkindest use of all, with its bladder they float the fatal harpoon that
wrought its own undoing. To sum it all up in one sentence, take away
the seal, and the Eskimo could not exist for a month.
There is not much room for fashion's imperious sway in Labrador.
Seal-skin from scalp to toe is the invariable rule; and there would be
no small difficulty in distinguishing between the sexes, if the women
did not indulge in a certain amount of ornamentation, upon their
garments, and further indicate their femininity by appending to their
sacques a curious tail reaching almost to the ground, which they renew
whenever it becomes so dirty as to shock even their sluggish
sensibilities. Still another distinguishing mark, permissible, however,
only to those who have attained the dignity of motherhood, is the amook,
a capacious hood hung between the shoulders, which forms the safest and
snuggest of all carrying places for babies that otherwise would be "in
arms."
[Illustration: SEAL-HUNTING.]
*III.*
In addition to the records of the Moravian missionaries, the reports of
the Arctic explorers and the stories brought back by whalers concerning
the Eskimos, much information has been gained of late through the
measures taken by the Canadian Government to determine the
practicability of Hudson Bay as a commercial highway. For three
successive years expeditions on an extensive scale have been despatched
to that little-known region, and observing stations have been maintained
throughout the year at different points along the coast of Labrador and
the shores of that great inland sea which has not inappropriately been
termed the "Mediterranean" of Canada. As one result of these
expeditions, much attention has been drawn to the natives. Lieutenant
Gordon, who has commanded all three, has many kind words for them. He
finds them docile, amiable, and willing to work, and apparently much
pleased with the prospect of increased intercourse with the white man.
Occasionally one is met that has been sufficiently enterprising to
acquire the English language, while many others understand well enough
what is said to them in that language, although they cannot be persuaded
to speak it.
They are wildly fond of any article of civilized clothing, and the
head-man at one settlement exhibited no little pride in the possession
of a stand-up linen collar, almost worthy to be placed beside one of Mr.
Gladstone's. Although he displayed it to the utmost advantage, he did
not, like the Fiji chieftain, consider all other clothing superfluous.
When stores were being landed at the stations, the Eskimos would gather
about and offer their services, which were always accepted, and then all
day long they would toil cheerfully side by side with their white
brethren, requiring no other remuneration than biscuits. When so much
has been written by Arctic explorers about the incorrigible kleptomania
of the natives, it is no less a matter for surprise than for
gratification that Lieutenant Gordon can bear this testimony as to the
moral status of the Eskimos at Hudson Bay: "One word may be said in
regard to their honesty. Although scraps of iron and wood possess a
value to them which we can hardly appreciate, they would take nothing
without first asking leave. Not even a chip or broken nail was taken
without their first coming to ask permission of the officer who was on
duty!"