Our sad and desolate Feelings after the Departure of the Ship.
--What we should soon witness of Arctic Winter.--The
Wreck visited from Time to Time.--Provisions transported
to the Settlement.--The Weather.--Whales near Shore.--
Severe Gale of Wind.--Fall of Snow.--Ocean frozen over.
--Sudden Introduction of Winter, and its Dreariness.--Not
to be described.--The Sun falling, Nights lengthening.--
Disappearance of the Sun.--Long Night.--How we passed our
Time.--Confined to the Huts.--Singing.--Neither Book nor
Chart, nor Writing Materials, except Pieces of Copper.--Hope of
Liberation another Year.--Captain Norton's Method of keeping
Time.--The Razor.--Our Clothing.--Provisions getting low.
--Natives both eating and stealing ours.--A new Chapter.--
Commenced living on Blubber with the Natives.--Native Stock
diminishing.--Winters in the Arctic vary.--The native Manner
of capturing the Whale.--Preparing their Food.--Native Bread.
--Description of their Huts.--Their peculiar Locality.--
Their Method of lighting and warming them.--The Filthiness of
the Natives.
The next day after the departure of the ship, as well as the departure
of our highest earthly hopes,--hopes which had been excited in us
immeasurably beyond any former experience,--we remained principally
in our huts, having neither desire nor energy, heart nor hope, to go
abroad, but what was most fitting in our present condition, and future
prospects, to indulge in sad and melancholy reflections upon the few
past hours. There was a singular solitariness pervading all our minds,
such as we never felt before. We were now painfully sensible that the
ice, snow, and cold, peculiar to this region of the north, such as we
never witnessed before, would ere long form around us an impassable
barrier, frightful even to contemplate, and through which there would
be to us no present egress.
What remained of provisions still at the wreck, and other
articles which may have washed ashore, reason and the instinct of
self-preservation taught us, it was our duty at once to secure.
Accordingly, the day following, the whole company were again assembled,
and went to the wreck. We made a division of the provisions, especially
of bread, between the different parties occupying different huts, and
each party transported its respective share to the settlement. The
natives were present with the crew during the day, and ever ready to
appropriate to their own benefit whatever they saw fit to take, or were
disposed to lay hold of.
There were several casks of molasses which came ashore; and since
these could not be very well divided at the wreck, it was resolved to
construct a species of sled, upon which a whole cask could be drawn
to the settlement at one time. This we did, though it required many
tedious hours and severe labor. By the aid of ropes, and a combination
of all our efforts, we succeeded in getting all the molasses to the
huts. We managed in the same way with a number of barrels of flour
which came ashore about this time. Several tin plates and basins were
also found on the beach, and these answered an excellent purpose, as
they afterwards proved; because in them we mixed our flour and molasses
together, and thus made very luscious pancakes. We usually baked them
outside of the huts, as no fire was allowed within, except very rarely;
nor were we permitted to make any outside when the wind was in a
northerly direction, lest the smoke should frighten away the seals from
the shore and region. So reasoned the natives.
We continued to visit the wreck and obtain whatever we could, until
the weather became so severe, and the traveling so bad, that it was no
longer safe to expose ourselves.
After having gathered all the provisions we could find at the wreck,
such as bread, flour, and molasses, we judged that with economy, and
with ordinary allowance, it would last the ship's company three or four
months. But the great drawback which we apprehended, and which we found
to be true, was, the natives acted as if they had as good a right to
our provisions as we had ourselves. They not only joined us in eating
what belonged to us, but they took what they wanted, both openly and
secretly.
The weather continued quite moderate, we should judge, for this region
of the north, not intensely cold, still gradually increasing, until the
17th of November. While the sea was open, whales were very plenty. They
came near the shore where our settlement was located, and sported among
the breakers, and in some instances, would rest their huge heads upon
the rocks, just on the surface of the water.
About this time, a very severe gale of wind blew from the north, more
furious and winterish than had occurred since our abode in this region,
accompanied with a heavy fall of snow. The wind was so violent that it
prostrated several native huts. This storm was doubtless a forerunner
of winter indeed, and which brought from the remote wastes of the
Northern Sea vast quantities of ice, which, in connection with that
which had been forming along the coast, closed up the whole ocean as
far as the eye could reach. Indeed, all water entirely disappeared.
This was an uncommon and singular feature in our experience of an
arctic winter. It thus began in earnest to put on the sterner and more
terrible attributes of dreariness and desolation. There was something
profoundly dreadful and awe-inspiring in the giant march of a polar
winter, prodigious in its increase of snow and the vast accumulation of
ice. It was upon a scale of operation so sublime and awful as to baffle
all human description, and throw wholly into the shade, as absolutely
insignificant, the intensest winter ever experienced in our native
country. It is utterly impossible to give to any one who has not shared
somewhat in the tremendous reality of the scene a just conception of it.
The sun was now falling rapidly, and showing its bright disk only a few
hours above the horizon. The nights were very long, and the days were
becoming shorter and shorter. It seemed as if the luminary of day was
indisposed to throw abroad his own rays upon a region of the earth's
surface where either human or animal life could with so much difficulty
exist. In a few weeks, the sun had wholly disappeared, though his track
of light could be distinctly traced in his course below a section of
the horizon; but still it was becoming fainter and fainter, until total
darkness and a long night of nearly a month enveloped the outward
world, as well as enshrouded our own minds in indescribable gloom and
sadness.
Our readers may inquire how we passed our time during our detention
among the natives, and especially during the coldest of the weather,
or during the long night of polar darkness. When the thermometer,
during the depth of winter, would doubtless have indicated scores of
degrees less than zero, we rarely ventured forth out of the huts. But
far otherwise with the natives. They would go out and travel from
settlement to settlement, even in the coldest weather. At times,
however, they would return from their winter excursions somewhat
frost-bitten. We also became, in a measure, accustomed to the intense
cold, and being clothed in the garments of the natives, consisting
wholly of skins and furs, we could endure a great degree of cold.
If there was any outward relief to be found to our minds during the
long nights of the arctic, and the entire absence of the sun for
several weeks, it consisted in the peculiar and uncommon brilliancy
which marked the course of the moon in those clear skies.
Nor was this all. The aurora borealis there is seen in all its native
beauty and grandeur. It illumined the sky with a light but little
inferior to that of moonlight. It would from time to time shoot up and
spread itself over the whole northern horizon, and with its sparkling
scintillations and brightly-colored coruscations, it would form a
splendid arch over our heads. And then, again, as the advancing column
of warriors rushes into battle, so the bright line above us, with its
moving front and wheeling battalions, would seem to change its hue and
position, and thus prepare for a fresh onset.
The aurora borealis of the arctic and polar region is one of nature's
grandest and most sublime scenes ever beheld by mortals.
As we were confined within the huts of the natives during a greater
part of our abode with them, and as nothing particular occurred
demanding our exposure out of doors, we had sufficient time to sleep,
if sleep we could. To pass away time was extremely hard and irksome.
Its wheels rolled slowly and heavily along. Some of us would sing to
the natives, which tended not only to divert and encourage our own
minds, but to please them. We found, however, they were wonderfully
pleased with our singing, and so much interested were they in it, that
nothing would satisfy them unless some one of us was singing to them.
Thus they laid an oppressive task upon us, which we were not able to
perform. What we commenced, therefore, as a sort of pastime, in order
to while away tedious hours, days, and months, finally became, through
the constant importunity of the natives, a grievous burden to us.
We had neither book nor chart of any description in our possession,
with which to divert or instruct our minds. We had nothing upon which
to write any event or fact, except small pieces of copper, and a few
stray leaves which we happened to find in the huts of the natives.
Our time, as all must see, was spent comparatively in a most listless
and unprofitable manner; it was simply the endurance of life, and the
prolonged hope that another year, if we should live to see it, would
bring to us the day of deliverance.
Captain Norton kept, by the aid of a piece of twine, in which he tied
knots, an account of every day, from the time of the wreck until our
rescue at East Cape, with the single exception of only one knot too
many, which he supposed he must have added during the long night.
The only razor, which was a great favorite with the company, and which
we frequently used to the best of our ability, without either soap or
brush, was an ordinary jackknife. It was necessary to keep our beards
trimmed within proper limits; otherwise our breath, even in the huts,
and especially when exposed to the air outside, would reduce them to a
mass of solid ice.
These two articles, viz., the twine and the knife, were about all the
significant and expressive mementoes which we brought with us from
our arctic quarters. These, however, were sufficient to bring most
distinctly and vividly to our minds a painful episode in our ocean life.
The clothing with which we were furnished by the natives, and without
which we must have perished, was composed of skins and furs. We dressed
as the natives did. An observer could have seen no difference in this
respect between us and them. Our shoes, pants, and a kind of jacket,
and caps, were wholly of skins, with the hair inside, and then over
these another dress, with the hair outside. Thus clothed, we were
protected from the keen, piercing air--a protection secured to us
which no other substitute could provide.
About the 1st of January, in the depth of winter, we began to perceive
that nearly all the provisions we obtained from the wreck were
about gone. The natives had shared with us in the several huts to a
considerable extent in consuming what belonged to us. They were very
fond of our flour, molasses, and bread. They wanted to eat what we ate,
and when they could not get it by fair play, they would indulge in
their natural propensity, and steal it.
What we greatly feared was now coming upon us. A new chapter in our
history began to open. The food of the natives must henceforth be for
our support. To their credit, however, be it said, there appeared no
disposition on their part to confine us down to a mere pittance, while
they themselves had their usual allowance. What they had was freely
offered to us, and both parties fared about the same while food lasted.
Their supply of provisions for the winter, so far as we could judge,
was not large; but now the addition of thirty-three persons to their
number soon diminished their usual stock.
Winters even in the arctic are variable, as we learned from the
natives; some were very severe, and other less so. We ascertained that
an entire settlement to the north of the one in which we lived, and
north of the wreck, perished a few years before in consequence of the
intense cold, and the want of provisions.
Some idea perhaps may be entertained by the reader of the principal
kind of food the natives eat, and what we lived upon for months while
with them.
THEIR MANNER OF CAPTURING THE WHALE.
As the whale approaches quite near the shore, the natives are not
greatly exposed by following him to a great distance in their canoes.
They take their own time and opportunity for killing the whale. Both
men and women are in the canoes on such occasions. It is regarded by
them as a family affair.
They go sufficiently near the whale to throw a harpoon into his body.
Their harpoons are somewhat different from ours, yet in principle they
are precisely the same. When they have thrown one or two irons into
the whale, they cast overboard two air-tight and inflated seal skins
attached to the lines. Every canoe in pursuit of whales has two skins
of this sort. If the whale is disposed to turn flukes and go down,
he must of course carry with him these full blown skins. The lines
are very strong, being made of walrus skin. When the whale makes his
appearance again, he is struck by another canoe, and two more seal
skins are attached to his body. Thus they go on fastening irons into
his body, and impeding his course by any number of seal skins, until
he is wearied out, and then they go up to him and lance him. Whales
have been picked up, by ships and boats, having several seal skins
attached to them. One whale was found, several years since, which had
_twenty-eight_ full-blown seal skins trailing after him.
PREPARING THEIR FOOD.
Having captured the whale and drawn him ashore, they then proceed
to the work of cutting him up, and stowing him away for future use.
Both the blubber and entrails are deposited in a place together,
especially prepared for the purpose. The place is a circular cavity, in
the form of a cellar under ground, from five to eight feet deep, and
with varied diameter, from three to five feet. These depositories are
placed along shore, some distance apart, most convenient for receiving
the whale when taken. In this cellar they deposit not only the whale
blubber and its intestines, but also the blubber of the walrus and
seal, and occasionally a deer is thrown in, with all that appertains
to it, except its skin and perhaps its feet. The whole is thus mingled
together in due proportions, and eaten by the natives with no further
change in the promiscuous and offensive elements than what time itself
would produce.
It was from such storehouses as these that the natives drew out their
chief support for the winter, and nearly for the whole year. It is
quite impossible to define this compound, and even if we could it would
answer no good purpose; for with us it is profoundly obnoxious even to
think of it. Absolute necessity--the simple fact of an existence,
compelled us to live upon such qualities of food, compared with which
our hogs have dainties, and luxuriate upon the fat of the land.
There were, however, some exceptions. Now and then a fresh seal was
caught, a bear, a walrus, or a deer brought in. But whatever other
good qualities the food might have had, it was all eaten raw; at least
this was the case with the more northern settlements, and particularly
the one in which we spent most of the winter. The natives farther south
exhibited some slight improvement in the manner of preparing their
food; yet on the whole, the difference was very small, and not worth
mentioning.
At the time of our meals, if they can be called such, all the members
of the hut would gather around a large dish, or tray, or trough, as
much like the ordinary hog's trough as it could well be, and then each
one would either help himself to what there was in it, with his hands
and fingers, or receive his piece of blubber from the head man of the
hut. In this manner the natives took their meals. From the necessity
of our condition we had to conform in a measure to this foul and
disgusting custom, to say nothing of the filthy nature of the food; we
were compelled to eat or starve.
The bread used among the natives was made by boiling a vine, which
they find on the ground in those places where the snow melts off
during summer. This vine is somewhat bitter. They make a practice of
collecting it during the summer months. After it is thoroughly boiled,
they pack it away in seal skins for future use. This is all the bread
they have.
HUTS.
A brief description of the huts of the natives may not be out of place
in this connection.
The huts are generally round, differing in size in proportion to
the family, and averaging, perhaps, from twelve to thirty feet in
diameter. The lower part of the hut, and to the height of four or five
feet, is well secured with upright stakes, situated a few feet apart,
and fastened to each other by cords of walrus skin. The huts, and
especially those where we were located during the winter, were not made
partly underground, as was the case with some we saw in the direction
of East Cape, but so constructed on the surface of the ground as to be
easily taken down and removed.
From the lower, or upright part, the roof extended in an oval form to
the height of ten or twelve feet. At the termination of the top, or
apex, there is an opening, which is closed or otherwise, according to
the state of the weather. This opening affords about all the egress
to the smoke of the lamps and fire, when made in the huts. It is very
rarely, however, that fire is made in the huts.
The covering of the huts is usually of walrus skins, and impermeable to
water. There is generally but one door to the hut, which is somewhat
smaller than ordinary doorways.
The interior of the hut is divided into two principal rooms, or
apartments, one of which may be called the eating room, and the other
the sleeping room. The sleeping apartment is separated from the other
by a temporary screen, which can be easily drawn aside or gathered up.
The sleeping apartment is again subdivided into smaller sections, to
suit the convenience of the family. The partitions are of walrus or
deer skins, as a matter of course. These rooms are much warmer than one
would naturally expect to find in this cold region of country.
The bedsteads (so to speak) are the skins of walruses, stretched upon
and fastened to the tops of stakes about one foot from the ground,
under which a bedding of coarse rushes is placed.
The pillow, or that upon which the head may rest, is made by drawing
the walrus skin over one end of a stick, or log.
The peculiar _locality_ of the huts or settlements is another
consideration deserving a passing notice. The natives select the
bleakest spot in the region for their settlements, where the wind blows
without any obstruction. They, therefore, avoid all shelter behind
hills, or cliffs, or in valleys. In placing their huts in such exposed
localities, as for example, upon a plain, or level, near the sea shore,
their purpose is to secure protection from the drifting snow, which
otherwise, were they in the lee of some hill, or rising ground, or in
a valley, would cover them up, and overwhelm them. Besides, the huts
being circular, the wind and snow have opportunity of circulating in
such a manner as generally to leave a clear space of several feet or
more around the hut.
Notwithstanding all the precautions of the natives to avoid the
drifting snow, still it was so deep at times upon a level, that when
passing along, and even quite near the huts, we could not discern the
tops of them, and should not have known that we were in their immediate
vicinity, had it not been for tracks we discovered in the snow, or from
the barking of the dogs.
THE METHOD OF LIGHTING THEIR HUTS.
The lamps are in the form of a hollow, circular dish, somewhat in
the shape of a bowl, made of clay. This vessel is filled with seal's
blubber, and around the edge of the lamps inside, is placed a row of
moss of fine quality, obtained from the mountains. This moss is set on
fire, and by its heat the blubber in the vessel is converted into oil,
which in turn feeds the moss, and thus good light is obtained. Two or
three such lamps in a hut would afford considerable heat.
The smoke, however, which proceeds from them is immense, and
exceedingly offensive. It is so thick, that every article in the hut
is covered and blackened with it. When one comes to clear air and
breathes, there will be seen a volume of darkened vapor going forth
from his nostrils and mouth.
These lamps are burning nearly all the time, and especially when the
days are short, and during the long night of darkness in midwinter.
Neither the smoke from the lamps, nor the quality of food we had to
eat, nor the manner of eating it, nor constantly observing the filthy
habits of the natives, was all the degradation we felt and experienced.
With the strictest propriety it can be said the natives were loaded
with vermin; and yet as indifferent, apparently, to such a condition,
as if it were the most trivial circumstance in the world. Indeed, they
appeared to enjoy the presence of the innumerable hosts that swarmed in
all parts of their huts. Their persons, garments, skins in the huts,
sleeping apartments, &c., were literally alive with them. The misery of
such a state we have neither words nor heart to attempt to describe.
[Illustration: POLAR BEARS.]