CHAPTER IX. KALUMAH’S ADVENTURES. Kalumah on the floating island, two

hundred miles from the American coast. It was almost incredible!

The first thing to be ascertained was whether the poor creature still

breathed. Was it possible to restore her to life? Mrs Barnett loosened

her clothes, and found that her body was not yet quite cold. Her heart

beat very feebly, but it did beat. The blood they had seen came from a

slight wound in her hand; Madge bound it up with her handkerchief, and

the bleeding soon ceased.

At the same time Mrs Barnett raised the poor girl’s head, and managed

to pour a few drops of rum between her parted lips. She then bathed her

forehead and temples with cold water, and waited.

A few minutes passed by, and neither of the watchers were able to utter

a word, so anxious were they lest the faint spark of life remaining to

the young Esquimaux should be quenched.

But at last Kalumah’s breast heaved with a faint sigh, her hands moved

feebly, and presently she opened her eyes, and recognising her preserver

she murmured—

“Mrs Barnett! Mrs Barnett!”

The lady was not a little surprised at hearing her own name. Had Kalumah

voluntarily sought the floating island, and did she expect to find her

old European friends on it? If so, how had she come to know it, and

how had she managed to reach the island, two hundred miles from the

mainland? How could she have guessed that the ice-field as bearing Mrs

Barnett and all the occupants of Fort Hope away from the American coast?

Really it all seemed quite inexplicable.

“She lives—she will recover!” exclaimed Madge, who felt the vital

heat and pulsation returning to the poor bruised body.

“Poor child, poor child’“ said Mrs Barnett, much affected; “she

murmured my name when she was at the point of death.”

But now Kalumah again half opened her eyes, and looked about her with a

dreamy unsatisfied expression, presently, however, seeing Mrs Barnett,

her face brightened, the same name again burst from her lips, and

painfully raising her hand she let it fall on that of her friend.

The anxious care of the two women soon revived Kalumah, whose extreme

exhaustion arose not only from fatigue but also from hunger. She had

eaten nothing for forty-eight hours. Some pieces of cold venison and

a little rum refreshed her, and she soon felt able to accompany her

newly-found friends to the fort.

Before starting, however, Kalumah, seated on the sand between Mrs

Barnett and Madge, overwhelmed them with thanks and expressions of

attachment. Then she told her story: she had not forgotten the Europeans

of Fort Hope, and the thought of Mrs Paulina Barnett had been ever

present with her. It was not by chance, as we shall see, that she had

come to Victoria Island.

The following is a brief summary of what Kalumah related to Mrs

Barnett:—

Our readers will remember the young Esquimaux’s promise to come and

see her friends at Fort Hope again in the fine season of the next year.

The long Polar night being over, and the month of May having come round,

Kalumah set out to fulfil her pledge. She left Russian America, where

she had wintered, and accompanied by one of her brothers-in-law, started

for the peninsula of Victoria.

Six weeks later, towards the middle of June, she got to that part of

British America which is near Cape Bathurst. She at once recognised the

volcanic mountains shutting in Liverpool Bay, and twenty miles farther

east she came to Walruses’ Bay, where her people had so often hunted

morses and seals.

But beyond the bay on the north, there was nothing to be seen. The

coast suddenly sank to the south-east in an almost straight line. Cape

Esquimaux and Cape Bathurst had alike disappeared.

Kalumah understood what had happened. Either the whole of the peninsula

had been swallowed up by the waves, or it was floating away as an

island, no one knew whither!

Kalumah’s tears flowed fast at the loss of those whom she had come so

far to see.

Her brother-in-law, however, had not appeared surprised at the

catastrophe. A kind of legend or tradition had been handed down amongst

the nomad tribes of North America, that Cape Bathurst did not form part

of the mainland, but had been joined on to it thousands of years before,

and would sooner or later be torn away in some convulsion of nature.

Hence the surprise at finding the factory founded by Hobson at the foot

of the cape. But with the unfortunate reserve characteristic of their

race, and perhaps also under the influence of that enmity which all

natives feel for those who settle in their country, they said nothing to

the Lieutenant, whose fort was already finished. Kalumah knew nothing of

this tradition, which after all rested on no trustworthy evidence, and

probably belonged to the many northern legends relating to the creation.

This was how it was that the colonists of Fort Hope were not warned of

the danger they ran in settling on such a spot.

Had a word in season been spoken to Hobson he would certainly have gone

farther in search of some firmer foundation for his fort than this soil,

certain peculiarities of which he had noticed at the first.

When Kalumah had made quite sure that all trace of Cape Bathurst was

gone, she explored the coast as far as the further side of Washburn Bay,

but without finding any sign of those she sought, and at last there was

nothing left for her to do but to return to the fisheries of Russian

America.

She and her brother-in-law left Walruses’ Bay at the end of June, and

following the coast got back to New Georgia towards the end of July,

after an absolutely fruitless journey.

Kalumah now gave up all hope of again seeing Mrs Barnett and the other

colonists of Fort Hope. She concluded that they had all been swallowed

up by the ocean long ago.

At this part of her tale the young Esquimaux looked at Mrs Barnett with

eyes full of tears, and pressed her hand [affectionaly] affectionately,

and then she murmured her thanks to God for her own preservation through

the means of her friend.

Kalumah on her return home resumed her customary occupations, and worked

with the rest of her tribe at the fisheries near Icy Cape, a point a

little above the seventieth parallel, and more than six hundred miles

from Cape Bathurst.

Nothing worthy of note happened during the first half of the month of

April; but towards the end the storm began which had caused Hobson so

much uneasiness, and which had apparently extended its ravages over

the whole of the Arctic Ocean and beyond Behring Strait. It was equally

violent at Icy Cape and on Victoria Island, and, as the Lieutenant

ascertained in taking his bearings, the latter was then not more than

two hundred miles from the coast.

As Mrs Barnett listened to Kalumah, her previous information enabled her

rapidly to find the key to the strange events which had taken place, and

to account for the arrival of the young native on the island.

During the first days of the storm the Esquimaux of Icy Cape were

confined to their huts. They could neither get out nor fish. But during

the night of the 31st August a kind of presentiment led Kalumah to

venture down to the beach, and, braving the wind and rain in all their

fury, she peered anxiously through the darkness at the waves rising

mountains high.

Presently she thought she saw a huge mass driven along by the hurricane

parallel with the coast. Gifted with extremely keen sight—as are all

these wandering tribes accustomed to the long dark Polar nights—she

felt sure that she was not mistaken.

Something of vast bulk was passing two miles from the coast, and that

something could be neither a whale, a boat, nor, at this time of the

year, even an iceberg.

But Kalumah did not stop to reason. The truth flashed upon her like

a revelation. Before her excited imagination rose the images of her

friends. She saw them all once more, Mrs Barnett, Madge, Lieutenant

Hobson, the baby she had covered with kisses at Fort Hope. Yes, they

were passing, borne along in the storm on a floating ice-field!

Kalumah did not doubt or hesitate a moment. She felt that she must tell

the poor shipwrecked people, which she was sure they were, of the close

vicinity of the land. She ran to her hut, seized a torch of tow and

resin, such as the Esquimaux use when fishing at night, lit it and waved

it on the beach at the summit of Icy Cape.

This was the fire which Hobson and Long had seen when crouching on Cape

Michael on the night of the 31st August.

Imagine the delight and excitement of the young Esquimaux when a signal

replied to hers, when she saw the huge fire lit by Lieutenant Hobson,

the reflection of which reached the American coast, although he did not

dream that he was so near it.

But it quickly went out, the lull in the storm only lasted a few

minutes, and the fearful gale, veering round to the south-east, swept

along with redoubled violence.

Kalumah feared that her “prey,” so she called the floating island,

was about to escape her, and that it would not be driven on to the

shore. She saw it fading away, and knew that it would soon disappear in

the darkness and be lost to her on the boundless ocean.

It was indeed a terrible moment for the young native, and she determined

at all hazards to let her friends know of their situation. There might

yet be time for them to take some steps for their deliverance, although

every hour took them farther from the continent.

She did not hesitate a moment, her kayak was at hand, the frail bark in

which she had more than once braved the storms of the Arctic Ocean, she

pushed it down to the sea, hastily laced on the sealskin jacket fastened

to the canoe, and, the long paddle in her hand, she plunged into the

darkness.

Mrs Barnett here pressed the brave child to her heart, and Madge shed

tears of sympathy.

When launched upon the roaring ocean, Kalumah found the change of wind

in her favour. The waves dashed over her kayak, it is true, but they

were powerless to harm the light boat, which floated on their crests

like a straw. It was capsized several times, but a stroke of the paddle

righted it at once.

After about an hour’s hard work, Kalumah could see the wandering

island more distinctly, and had no longer any doubt of effecting her

purpose, as she was but a quarter of a mile from the beach.

It was then that she uttered the cry which Hobson and Long had heard.

But, alas! Kalumah now felt herself being carried away towards the west

by a powerful current, which could take firmer hold of her kayak than of

the floating island!

In vain she struggled to beat back with her paddle, the light boat

shot along like an arrow. She uttered scream after scream, but she was

unheard, for she was already far away, and when the day broke the coasts

of Alaska and the island she had wished to reach, were but two distant

masses on the horizon.

Did she despair? Not yet. It was impossible to get back to the American

continent in the teeth of the terrible wind which was driving the island

before it at a rapid pace, taking it out two hundred miles in thirty-six

hours, and assisted by the current from the coast.

There was but one thing left to do. To get to the island by keeping in

the same current which was drifting it away.

But, alas! the poor girl’s strength was not equal to her courage, she

was faint from want of food, and, exhausted as she was, she could no

longer wield her paddle.

For some hours she struggled on, and seemed to be approaching the

island, although those on it could not see her, as she was but a speck

upon the ocean. She struggled on until her stiffened arms and bleeding

hands fell powerless, and, losing consciousness, she was floated along

in her frail kayak at the mercy of winds and waves.

She did not know how long this lasted, she remembered nothing more,

until a sudden shock roused her, her kayak had struck against something,

it opened beneath her, and she was plunged into cold water, the

freshness of which revived her. A few moments later, she was flung upon

the sand in a dying state by a large wave.

This had taken place the night before, just before dawn—that is to

say, about two or three o’clock in the morning. Kalumah had then been

seventy hours at sea since she embarked!

The young native had no idea where she had been thrown, whether on the

continent or on the floating island, which she had so bravely sought,

but she hoped the latter. Yes, hoped that she had reached her friends,

although she knew that the wind and current had driven them into the

open sea, and not towards the coast!

The thought revived her, and, shattered as she was, she struggled to her

feet, and tried to follow the coast.

She had, in fact, been providentially thrown on that portion of Victoria

Island which was formerly the upper corner of Walruses’ Bay. But, worn

away as it was by the waves, she did not recognise the land with which

she had once been familiar.

She tottered on, stopped, and again struggled to advance; the beach

before her appeared endless, she had so often to go round where the sea

had encroached upon the sand. And so dragging herself along, stumbling

and scrambling up again, she at last approached the little wood where

Mrs. Barnett and Madge had halted that very morning. We know that the

two women found the footprints left by Kalumah in the snow not far from

this very spot, and it was at a short distance farther on that the poor

girl fell for the last time. Exhausted by fatigue and hunger, she still

managed to creep along on hands and knees for a few minutes longer.

A great hope kept her from despair, for she had at last recognised Cape

Esquimaux, at the foot of which she and her people had encamped the year

before. She knew now that she was but eight miles from the factory, and

that she had only to follow the path she had so often traversed when she

went to visit her friends at Fort Hope.

Yes, this hope sustained her, but she had scarcely reached the

beach when her forces entirely failed her, and she again lost all

consciousness. But for Mrs Barnett she would have died.

“But, dear lady,” she added, “I knew that you would come to my

rescue, and that God would save me by your means.”

We know the rest. We know the providential instinct which led Mrs

Barnett and Madge to explore this part of the coast on this very day,

and the presentiment which made them visit Cape Esquimaux after they had

rested, and before returning to Fort Hope. We know too—as Mrs Barnett

related to Kalumah— how the piece of ice had floated away, and how the

bear had acted under the circumstances.

“And after all,” added Mrs Barnett with a smile, “it was not I who

saved you, but the good creature without whose aid you would never have

come back to us, and if ever we see him again we will treat him with the

respect due to your preserver.”

During this long conversation Kalumah was rested and refreshed, and Mrs

Barnett proposed that they should return to the fort at once, as she

had already been too long away. The young girl immediately rose ready to

start.

Mrs Barnett was indeed most anxious to tell the Lieutenant of all that

had happened during the night of the storm, when the wandering island

had neared the American continent, but she urged Kalumah to keep her

adventures secret, and to say nothing about the situation of the

island. She would naturally be supposed to have come along the coast, in

fulfilment of the promise she had made to visit her friends in the fine

season. Her arrival would tend only to strengthen the belief of the

colonists that no changes had taken place in the country around

Cape Bathurst, and to set at rest the doubts any of them might have

entertained.

It was about three o’clock when Madge and Mrs Barnett, with Kalumah

hanging on her arm, set out towards the east, and before five o’clock

in the afternoon they all arrived at the postern of the fort.

The Fur Country: Or, Seventy Degrees North Latitude · 第 9 / 24 章