It will be remembered that the party of Englishmen arrived at Poloeland
under oars, and although the india-rubber boats had been gazed at, and
gently touched, with intense wonder by the natives, they had not yet
seen the process of disinflation, or the expansion of the kites.
Of course, Chingatok and their other Eskimo fellow-travellers had given
their friends graphic descriptions of everything, but this only served
to whet the desire to see the wonderful oomiaks in action. Several
times, during the first few days, the old chief had expressed a wish to
see the Kablunets go through the water in their boats, but as the calm
still prevailed, and the Captain knew his influence over the natives
would depend very much on the effect with which his various proceedings
were carried out, he put him off with the assurance that when the proper
time for action came, he would let him know.
One night a gentle breeze sprang up and blew directly off shore. As it
seemed likely to last, the Captain waited till the whole community was
asleep, and then quietly roused his son.
"Lend a hand here, Ben," he whispered, "and make no noise."
Benjy arose and followed his father in a very sleepy frame of mind.
They went to the place where the india-rubber boats lay, close behind
the Englishmen's hut, and, unscrewing the brass heads that closed the
air-holes, began to press out the air.
"That's it, Ben, but don't squeeze too hard, lest the hissing should
rouse some of 'em."
"What'r 'ee doin' this for--ee--yaou?" asked Benjy, yawning.
"You'll see that to-morrow, lad."
"Hum! goin' t'squeeze'm all?"
"Yes, all three, and put 'em in their boxes."
The conversation flagged at this point, and the rest of the operation
was performed in silence.
Next morning, after breakfast, seeing that the breeze still held, the
Captain sent a formal message to Amalatok, that he was prepared to
exhibit his oomiaks.
The news spread like wild-fire, and the entire community soon
assembled--to the number of several hundreds--in front of the
Englishmen's hut, where the Captain was seen calmly seated on a
packing-case, with a solemn expression on his face. The rest of his
party had been warned to behave with dignity. Even Benjy's round face
was drawn into something of an oval, and Butterface made such superhuman
attempts to appear grave, that the rest of the party almost broke down
at the sight of him.
Great was the surprise among the natives when they perceived that the
three oomiaks had disappeared.
"My friends," said the Captain, rising, "I will now show you the manner
in which we Englishmen use our oomiaks."
A soft sigh of expectation ran through the group of eager natives, as
they pressed round their chief and Chingatok who stood looking on in
dignified silence, while the Captain and his companions went to work.
Many of the women occupied a little eminence close at hand, whence they
could see over the heads of the men, and some of the younger women and
children clambered to the top of the hut, the better to witness the
great sight.
Numerous and characteristic were the sighs, "huks," grunts, growls, and
other exclamations; all of which were in keeping with the more or less
intense glaring of eyes, and opening of mouths, and slight bending of
knees and elbows, and spreading of fingers, and raising of hands, as the
operators slowly unrolled the india-rubber mass, attached the bellows,
gradually inflated the first boat, fixed the thwarts and stretchers,
and, as it were, constructed a perfect oomiak in little more than ten
minutes.
Then there was a shout of delight when the Captain and Leo, one at the
bow, the other at the stern, lifted the boat as if it had been a
feather, and, carrying it down the beach, placed it gently in the sea.
But the excitement culminated when Chingatok, stepping lightly into it,
sat down on the seat, seized the little oars, and rowed away.
We should have said, attempted to row away, for, though he rowed
lustily, the boat did not move, owing to Anders, who, like Eskimos in
general, dearly loved a practical joke. Holding fast by the tail-line a
few seconds, he suddenly let go, and the boat shot away, while Anders,
throwing a handful of water after it, said, "Go off, bad boy, and don't
come back; we can do without you." A roar of laughter burst forth.
Some of the small boys and girls leaped into the air with delight,
causing the tails of the latter to wriggle behind them.
The Captain gave them plenty of time to blow off the steam of surprise.
When they had calmed down considerably, he proceeded to open out and
arrange one of the kites.
Of course this threw them back into the open-eyed and mouthed, and
finger-spreading condition, and, if possible, called forth more surprise
than before. When the kite soared into the sky, they shouted; when it
was being attached to the bow of the boat, they held their breath with
expectation, many of them standing on one leg; and when at last the
boat, with four persons in it, shot away to sea at the rate of eight or
ten miles an hour, they roared with ecstasy; accompanying the yells with
contortions of frame and visage which were so indescribable that we
gladly leave it all to the reader's imagination.
There can be no doubt of the fact that the Captain placed himself and
his countrymen that day on a pedestal from which there was no fear of
their being afterwards dislodged.
"Did not I tell you," said Chingatok to his sire that night, in the
privacy of his hut, "that the Kablunets are great men?"
"You did, my son. Chingatok is wise, and his father is a fool!"
No doubt the northern savage meant this self-condemning speech to be
understood much in the same way in which it is understood by civilised
people.
"When the oomiak swelled I thought it was going to burst," added the
chief.
"So did I, when I first saw it," said Chingatok. Father and son paused
a few minutes. They usually did so between each sentence. Evidently
they pondered what they said.
"Have these men got wives?" asked the chief.
"The old one has, and Bunjay is his son. The other ones--no. The black
man may have a wife: I know not, but I should think that no woman would
have him."
"What made him black?"
"I know not."
"Was he always black?"
"The Kablunets say he was--from so big."
Chingatok measured off the half of his left hand by way of explaining
how big.
"Is he black under the clothes?"
"Yes; black all over."
Again the couple paused.
"It is strange," said the old man, shaking his head. "Perhaps he was
made black because his father was wicked."
"Not so," returned the young giant. "I have heard him say his father
was a very good man."
"Strange," repeated the chief, with a solemn look, "he is very ugly--
worse than a walrus. Tell me, my son, where do the Kablunets live? Do
they hunt the walrus or the seal?"
"Blackbeard has told me much, father, that I do not understand. His
people do not hunt much--only a very few of them do."
"Wah! they are lazy! The few hunt to keep the rest in meat, I suppose."
"No, father, that is not the way. The few hunt for fun. The great many
spend their time in changing one thing for another. They seem to be
never satisfied--always changing, changing--every day, and all day.
Getting and giving, and never satisfied."
"Poor things!" said the chief.
"And they have no walruses, no white bears, no whales, nothing!" added
the son.
"Miserables! Perhaps that is why they come here to search for
_nothing_!"
"But, father, if they have got nothing at home, why come here to search
for it?"
"What do they eat?" asked Amalatok, quickly, as if he were afraid of
recurring to the puzzling question that had once already taken him out
of his mental depth.
"They eat all sorts of things. Many of them eat things that are nasty--
things that grow out of the ground; things that are very hot and burn
the tongue; things that are poison and make them ill. They eat fish
too, like us, and other people bring them their meat in great oomiaks
from far-off lands. They seem to be so poor that they cannot find
enough in their own country to feed themselves."
"Wretched creatures!" said the old man, pitifully. "Yes, and they drink
too. Drink waters so hot and so terrible that they burn their mouths
and their insides, and so they go mad."
"Did I not say that they were fools?" said Amalatok, indignantly.
"But the strangest thing of all," continued Chingatok, lowering his
voice, and looking at his sire in a species of wonder, "is that they
fill their mouths with smoke!"
"What? Eat smoke?" said Amalatok in amazement.
"No, they spit it out."
"Did Blackbeard tell you that?"
"Yes."
"Then Blackbeard is a liar!"
Chingatok did not appear to be shocked by the old man's plain speaking,
but he did not agree with him.
"No, father," said he, after a pause. "Blackbeard is not a liar. He is
good and wise, and speaks the truth. I have seen the Kablunets do it
myself. In the big oomiak that they lost, some of the men did it, so--
puff, pull, puff, puff--is it not funny?"
Both father and son burst into laughter at this, and then, becoming
suddenly grave, remained staring at the smoke of their cooking-lamp,
silently meditating on these things.
While thus engaged, a man entered the low doorway in the only possible
manner, on hands and knees, and, rising, displayed the face of Anders.
"Blackbeard sends a message to the great old chief," said the
interpreter. "He wishes him to pay the Kablunets a visit. He has
something to show to the great old chief."
"Tell him I come," said the chief, with a toss of the head which meant,
"be off!"
"I wonder," said Amalatok slowly, as Anders crept out, "whether
Blackbeard means to show us some of his wisdom or some of his
foolishness. The white men appear to have much of both."
"Let us go see," said Chingatok.
They went, and found the Captain seated in front of the door of his hut
with his friends round him--all except Benjy, who was absent. They were
very grave, as usual, desiring to be impressive.
"Chief," began the Captain, in that solemn tone in which ghosts are
supposed to address mankind, "I wish to show you that I can make the
stoutest and most obstinate warrior of Poloeland tremble and jump
without touching him."
"That is not very difficult," said the old man, who had still a lurking
dislike to acknowledge the Englishmen his superiors. "I can make any
one of them tremble and jump by throwing a spear at him."
A slight titter from the assembly testified to the success of this
reply.
"But," rejoined the Captain, with deepening solemnity, "I will do it
without throwing a spear."
"So will I, by suddenly howling at him in the dark," said Amalatok.
At this his men laughed outright.
"But I will not howl or move," said the Captain.
"That will be clever," returned the chief, solemnised in spite of
himself. "Let Blackbeard proceed."
"Order one of your braves to stand before me on that piece of flat
skin," said the Captain.
Amalatok looked round, and, observing a huge ungainly man with a
cod-fishy expression of face, who seemed to shrink from notoriety,
ordered him to step forward. The man did so with obvious trepidation,
but he dared not refuse. The Captain fixed his eyes on him sternly,
and, in a low growling voice, muttered in English: "Now, Benjy, give it
a good turn."
Cod-fishiness vanished as if by magic, and, with a look of wild horror,
the man sprang into the air, tumbled on his back, rose up, and ran away!
It is difficult to say whether surprise or amusement predominated among
the spectators. Many of them laughed heartily, while the Captain, still
as grave as a judge, said in a low growling tone as if speaking to
himself:--
"Not quite so stiff, Benjy, not quite so stiff. Be more gentle next
time. Don't do it all at once, boy; jerk it, Benjy, a turn or so at a
time."
It is perhaps needless to inform the reader that the Captain was
practising on the Eskimos with his electrical machine, and that Benjy
was secretly turning the handle inside the hut. The machine was
connected, by means of wires, with the piece of skin on which the
patients stood. These wires had been laid underground, not, indeed, in
the darkness, but, during the secrecy and silence of the previous night.
After witnessing the effect on the first warrior, no other brave seemed
inclined to venture on the skin, and the women, who enjoyed the fun
greatly, were beginning to taunt them with cowardice, when Oolichuk
strode forward. He believed intensely, and justifiably, in his own
courage. No man, he felt quite sure, had the power to stare _him_ into
a nervous condition--not even the fiercest of the Kablunets. Let
Blackbeard try, and do his worst!
Animated by these stern and self-reliant sentiments, he stepped upon the
mat.
Benjy, being quick in apprehension, perceived his previous error, and
proceeded this time with caution. He gave the handle of the machine a
gentle half-turn and stopped, peeping through a crevice in the wall to
observe the effect.
"Ha! ha! ho! ho!--hi! huk!" laughed Oolichuk, as a tickling sensation
thrilled through all his nervous system. The laugh was irresistibly
echoed by the assembled community.
Benjy waited a few seconds, and then gave the handle another and
slightly stronger turn.
The laugh this time was longer and more ferocious, while the gallant
Eskimo drew himself together, determined to resist the strange and
subtle influence; at the same time frowning defiance at the Captain, who
never for a moment took his coal-black eye off him!
Again Benjy turned the handle gently. He evidently possessed something
of the ancient Inquisitor spirit, and gloated over the pains of his
victim! The result was that Oolichuk not only quivered from head to
foot, but gave a little jump and anything but a little yell. Benjy's
powers of self-restraint were by that time exhausted. He sent the
handle round with a whirr and Oolichuk, tumbling backwards off the mat,
rent the air with a shriek of demoniac laughter.
Of course the delight of the Eskimos--especially of the children--was
beyond all bounds, and eager were the efforts made to induce another
warrior to go upon the mysterious mat, but not one would venture. They
would rather have faced their natural enemy, the great Grabantak,
unarmed, any day!
In this difficulty an idea occurred to Amalatok. Seizing a huge dog by
the neck he dragged it to the mat, and bade it lie down. The dog
crouched and looked sheepishly round. Next moment he was in the air
wriggling. Then he came to the ground, over which he rushed with a
prolonged howl, and disappeared among the rocks on the hill side.
It is said that that poor dog was never again seen, but Benjy asserts
most positively that, a week afterwards, he saw it sneaking into the
village with its tail very much between its legs, and an expression of
the deepest humility on its countenance.
"You'd better give them a taste of dynamite, father," said Benjy that
evening, as they all sat round their supper-kettle.
"No, no, boy. It is bad policy to fire off all your ammunition in a
hurry. We'll give it 'em bit by bit."
"Just so, impress them by degrees," said Alf.
"De fust warrior was nigh bu'sted by degrees," said Butterface, with a
broad grin, as he stirred the kettle. "You gib it 'im a'most too
strong, Massa Benjee."
"Blackbeard must be the bad spirit," remarked Amalatok to his son that
same night as they held converse together--according to custom--before
going to bed.
"The bad spirit is _never_ kind or good," replied Chingatok, after a
pause.
"No," said the old man, "never."
"But Blackbeard is always good and kind," returned the giant.
This argument seemed unanswerable. At all events the old man did not
answer it, but sat frowning at the cooking-lamp under the influence of
intense thought.
After a prolonged meditation--during the course of which father and son
each consumed the tit-bits of a walrus rib and a seal's flipper--
Chingatok remarked that the white men were totally beyond his
comprehension. To which, after another pause, his father replied that
he could not understand them at all.
Then, retiring to their respective couches, they calmly went to
sleep--"perchance to dream!"