Soon afterwards the Mangivik family received another visitor. This was
the bellicose Gartok himself, whose heart had been touched by the fair
Nootka.
Like his rival, he sat down opposite the maiden, and stared at her
impressively across the cooking-lamp. This would seem to be the usual
mode of courtship among those children of the ice; but the girl's mode
of receiving the attentions of the second lover varied considerably.
She did not drop her eyes shyly under his gaze, but stared him full in
the face by way of a slight rebuff. Neither did she prepare for him a
savoury rib, so that he was obliged to help himself--which he did with
much coolness, for the laws of hospitality in Eskimo-land admit of such
conduct.
After some desultory conversation between Gartok and his host, the
latter asked if it was true that there was a talk of the tribe paying a
visit to Whale River.
"Yes, it is true," answered the young man. "I came to see you about
that very thing, and to tell you that there is to be a meeting outside
the big hut to-day. We shall want your advice."
"Why do the young men wish to go there?" asked Mangivik.
"To get food, and wood for our spear-handles and sledges, and berries,
and to have a good time. Perhaps also to fight a little with the
Fire-spouters."
The youth glanced furtively at Mangivik as he concluded.
"To get food, and wood, and berries is good," observed the old man; "but
why fight with the Fire-spouters? We cannot conquer them."
"You can ask that at the meeting. It is useless to ask it of me."
"Good, I will do so. For my part, I am too old to go on long
expeditions, either to hunt or fight--but I can give advice. Is
Cheenbuk to be at the meeting?"
"Did you not know? Cheenbuk has already gone to the Whale River. We
only propose to follow him. He may not like our business, but he'll
have to join us when we are there."
Having picked his rib clean, and receiving no encouragement from Nootka
to remain, Gartok rose and departed.
That afternoon there was a large meeting of the heads of families in
front of what was known as the big hut. There was no formality about
the meeting. Unlike the war councils of the Indians, it was a sort of
free-and-easy, in which blubber and other choice kinds of food did duty
for the red man's pipe. The women, too, were allowed to sit around and
listen--but not to speak--while the hunters discussed their plans.
Gartok, being the biggest, most forward, and presumptuous among them
all, was allowed to speak first--though this was contrary to the wishes,
and even the custom, of the tribe. He did not make a set speech.
Indeed, no one thought of delivering an oration. It was merely a
palaver on a large scale.
"We want spear-handles," said Gartok, "and wood for our kayak-frames,
and deer for food, as well as birds and rabbit-skins for our
underclothing."
"That is true," remarked one of the elderly men; "we want all these
things, and a great many more things, but we don't want fighting. There
is no use in that."
"Ho! ho!" exclaimed several voices in approval.
"But we do want fighting," retorted Gartok firmly; "we want the pretty
coloured things that the Fire-spouters sew on their clothes and shoes;
also the iron things they have for cutting wood; and we want the
spouters, which will make us more than a match for them in war; and we
can't get all these things without fighting."
"Do without them, then," observed Mangivik sharply; "why should we want
things that we never had, and don't need? Listen to me, young men--for
I see by your looks that some of you would like a little fighting,--even
if we had the spouting things, we could not make them spout."
"That is a lie!" exclaimed Gartok, with the simple straightforwardness
peculiar to the uncivilised. "Once I met one of the Fire-spouters when
I was out hunting at the Whale River. He was alone, and friendly. I
asked him to show me his spouter. He did so, but told me to be very
careful, for sometimes it spouted of its own accord. He showed me the
way to make it spout--by touching a little thing under it. There was a
little bird on a bush close by. `Point at that,' he said. I pointed.
`Now,' said he, `look along the spouter with one eye.' I put one end of
it against my cheek and tried to look, but by accident I touched the
little thing, and it spouted too soon! I never saw the little bird
again; but I saw many stars, though it was broad daylight at the time."
"Ho! hoo!" exclaimed several of the younger men, who listened to this
narration with intense eagerness.
"Yes," continued Gartok, who had the gift of what is called "the gab,"
and was fond of exercising it,--"yes; it knocked me flat on my back--"
"Was it alive, then?" asked Anteek, who mingled that day with the men as
an equal, in consequence of his having slain a walrus single-handed.
"No, it was not quite, but it was very nearly alive.--Well, when I fell
the man laughed. You know his people are not used to laugh. They are
very grave, but this one laughed till I became angry, and I would have
fought with him, but--"
"Ay," interrupted Anteek, "but you were afraid, for he had the spouter."
Before Gartok could reply Mangivik broke in.
"Boo!" he exclaimed contemptuously, "it is of no use your talking so
much. I too have been to the Whale River, and have seen the
fire-spouters, and I know they are _not_ nearly alive. They are dead--
quite dead. Moreover, they will not spout at all, and are quite
useless, unless they are filled with a kind of black sand which is
supplied by the white men who sell the spouters. Go to the Whale River
if you will, but don't fight with any one--that is my advice, and my
hair is grey."
"It is white, old man, if you only saw it," murmured Anteek, with native
disrespect. He was too good-natured, however, to let his thoughts be
heard.
"Come, Oolalik," said Mangivik, "you are a stout and a wise young man,
let us hear what you have got to say."
"I say," cried Oolalik, looking round with the air of a man who had much
in his head, and meant to let it out, "I say that the man who fights if
he can avoid it is a fool! Look back and think of the time gone away.
Not many cold times have passed since our young men became puffed up--
indeed, some of our old men were little better--and made a raid on the
Fire-spouters of the Whale River. They met; there was a bloody fight;
six of our best youths were killed, and numbers were wounded by the
little things that come out of the spouters. Then they came home, and
what did they bring? what had they gained? I was a boy at the time and
did not understand it all; but I understood some of it. I saw the
fighters returning. Some were looking very big and bold, as if they had
just come from fighting and conquering a whole tribe of bears and
walruses. Others came back limping. They went out young and strong
men; they came back too soon old, helped along by their companions. Two
were carried--they could not walk at all. Look at them now!"
Oolalik paused and directed attention to what may be called an
object-lesson--two men seated on his right hand. Both, although in the
prime of life, looked feeble and prematurely old from wounds received in
the fight referred to. One had been shot in the leg; the bone was
broken, and that rendered him a cripple for life. The other had
received a bullet in the lungs; and a constitution which was naturally
magnificent had become permanently shattered.
"What do you think?" continued Oolalik. "Would not these men give much
to get back their old strength and health?"
He paused again, and the men referred to nodded emphatically, as if they
thought the question a very appropriate one, while some of the
peacefully disposed in the assembly exclaimed "ho!" and "hoo!" in tones
of approval.
"Then," continued the speaker, "I passed by some of our huts and heard
sounds of bitter weeping. I went in and found it was the wives and
sisters of the men whose bodies lie on the banks of the Whale River.
There would be reason in fighting, if we had to defend our huts against
the Fire-spouters. Self-defence is right; and every one has a good word
for the brave men who defend their homes, their women, and their
children. But the Fire-spouters did not want to fight, and the men who
lost their lives at the fight I am speaking of, threw them away for
nothing. They will never more come home to provide their families with
food and clothes, or to comfort them, or to play with the children and
tell them of fights with the walrus and the bear when the nights are
black and long. Most of those poor women had sons or man-relations to
care for them, but there was one who had no relation to hunt for her
after her husband was killed--only a little daughter to take care of
her. I speak of old Uleeta, who is--"
"That is a lie!" cried Gartok, springing up and looking fierce. "Old
Uleeta is, as you all know, my mother. She had _me_ to hunt for her
when father was killed, and she has me still."
"You!" exclaimed Oolalik, with a look of scorn, "what are you? A
hunter? No, only a fool who wants to be thought very brave, and would
leave his mother and sister to the care of old men and boys while he
goes away to fight with the Fire-spouters! No," he continued, turning
away from the angry young man with cool contempt, "old Uleeta has no
son."
Gartok was so taken aback with this behaviour of Oolalik, who was
recognised as one of the gentlest and most peacefully disposed of the
tribe, that he stood gaping for a moment in surprise. Then, observing
the half-amused, half-contemptuous looks of the men around him, he
suddenly caught up the unfinished handle of a spear that leaned against
the wall of the hut beside him, and made a desperate blow with it at the
head of Oolalik.
But that youth had expected some such demonstration, and was prepared
for it. Being very agile, he made a step swiftly to one side, and the
handle came down on the skull of a walrus which hung on the wall, with a
violence that would have surprised its original owner had it been
within.
Before the blow could be repeated Oolalik sprang towards his assailant.
Eskimos know nothing of a blow "straight from the shoulder," but they
know how to cuff. Oolalik brought his open hand down on Gartok's cheek
with a pistol-shot crack that tumbled that fire-eater head over heels on
the ground.
The man was too strong, however, to be knocked insensible in that way.
He recovered himself, sitting-wise, with his mouth agape and his eyes
astonied, while the whole assembly burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
High above the rest was heard the juvenile voice of the delighted
Anteek.
What the fire-eater thought we cannot tell, but he had the wisdom to
accept his punishment in silence, and listened with apparent interest
while Oolalik concluded his remarks.
The effect of this belligerent episode was to advance the cause of the
peace-party considerably--at least for a time--and when the meeting
broke up, most of the people returned to their various homes with a firm
determination to leave the poor Fire-spouters alone.
But Gartok, who was still smarting under the disgrace to which he had
been subjected at the hands of Oolalik, managed to rekindle and blow up
the war-spirit, so that, two days later, a strong party of the more
pugnacious among the young men of the tribe set off in their kayaks for
the Whale River, taking with them a few of the women in one of their
open boats or oomiaks--chiefly for the purpose of keeping their garments
in repair.