It was with feelings of profound thankfulness and relief that Adolay
landed on the first of the islets, and surveyed the chaotic though
beautiful floes from which they had escaped.
And in truth Cheenbuk had required all his skill and experience more
than once to avoid the dangers by which they had been beset, for,
although the weather was perfectly calm and the ice nearly motionless,
they had frequently to pass through channels so narrow that the
slightest current might have caused a nip and obliged them to take
hurried refuge on the floes, while, at other times, when compelled to
pass rather close to the small bergs, lumps dropped into the water
perilously near to them from the overhanging ice-cliffs.
"There has been some danger," remarked the girl, turning to her
protector.
"All is well when it ends well," replied the Eskimo, nearly, but
unconsciously, quoting Shakespeare. "But the danger was not very great,
for if the ice had closed in we could have jumped on it, and carried the
canoe to the nearest open water."
"But what if a lump had dropped into the canoe and sunk it?" asked
Adolay.
"We should have had to scramble on the floes and wait there till--till
we died together."
He said this with some degree of solemnity, for it was an uncomfortable
reflection.
"I would prefer,"--she stopped suddenly, for in the haste of the moment
she was going to have said--"that we should live together rather than
die together,"--but maiden modesty, not unfamiliar even among savages,
restrained her, and Cheenbuk, who was not observant in the matter of
imperfect speech, took no notice of the abrupt pause.
The evening was far advanced, for it had taken them the whole day to
reach the islet, owing to the windings of the lanes of water and the
frequency with which they had to turn back in consequence of having run
into what may be termed blind alleys. It was resolved, therefore, that
they should rest there for the night.
As there was no fear, by that time, of their being pursued by Indians,
Cheenbuk resolved that they should have a good warm supper to recruit
their somewhat exhausted energies. Of course Adolay was only too glad
to fall in with this arrangement, and said that she would go along the
shore and collect small masses of drift-wood for the fire, while her
companion lifted up the canoe and made the encampment.
"You will not find much drift-wood, I think," said Cheenbuk, as she was
about to set off, "for the currents don't set upon this island much.
The long point of the bigger island over there turns the currents off
from this one, but perhaps you may find a little."
Adolay found this to be true, for she wandered several miles along
shore--indeed, went nearly round the islet, which was a low rocky one,
almost devoid of verdure--before she had collected a good bundle of dry
sticks.
Meanwhile the Eskimo set to work with characteristic enthusiasm to
arrange the camp. Choosing a spot where a low wall of rock sheltered
him from the north, he laid a few stones in a heap to mark the place for
the fire. Then he carried up the canoe, and laid it down bottom up, so
as to face the fire. Underneath it he made a snug nest of twigs and
leaves for Adolay to rest in. Then, on the opposite side of the fire,
he made another lair--a sort of open-air nest--for himself, after which
he collected a good many of the small dead twigs among the scrub, which
he piled up in readiness around a large piece of drift timber he had the
good fortune to discover, not far from the spot where they landed.
This done, he stood back a few paces and admired his handiwork, his head
on one side with quite the air of a connoisseur.
Presently he began to wish that Adolay would return, and then sat down
to make fire by the slow and laborious Eskimo process of rubbing two
pieces of stick rapidly together until the friction should ignite them.
He was still absorbed in the work when the Indian girl returned with a
bundle of wood which she threw down beside the rest.
"You have had better luck than I expected," said Cheenbuk. "See, I have
made you a nest to sleep in," he added, pointing to the canoe.
"It is very nice," she observed, with an appreciative smile. "What are
you doing?"
"Making fire," he answered, resuming his work and continuing it with
such vigour that beads of perspiration stood on his brow.
Without speaking, the girl went to the canoe and opened a bundle wrapped
in deerskin which formed part of its lading. She drew therefrom a
fire-bag, richly ornamented with beads, such as Indian chiefs and braves
are wont to carry under their belts. It contained the pipe, tinder-box,
flint, steel, and tobacco which are usually supplied by the fur-traders
to the Red men.
Cheenbuk was so interested in the proceedings of his companion that he
ceased to carry on his own work, thereby allowing the sticks to cool and
losing his labour.
"You need not work so hard," said Adolay, taking a flint, steel, and
piece of tinder from the bag and, beginning to strike a light, to the
great interest of the Eskimo. "We manage to get fire differently and
more easily."
In a few seconds a spark caught on the tinder, which began to smoke, and
the girl, wrapping it in a bundle of dry grass, whirled it round at
arm's-length until the draught caused it to burst into flame. Thrusting
the burning mass into the heart of the twigs, which had been previously
prepared, she glanced up at her protector with a look that said plainly,
"Watch, now, the result."
But Cheenbuk required no encouragement to do so. He had been watching
all the time with mouth, as well as eyes, wide-open, and a loud "hoi!
hoi! ho!" burst from him as the flame leaped up, suffusing the canoe and
wall of rock and the near objects with a ruddy glow which paled
everything else to a cold grey by contrast.
"I've seen that once before," exclaimed Cheenbuk with delight, taking up
the fire-bag tenderly, "and have often wished that I had these things
for making fire."
"Well, you may have them now. They belonged to my father. All our men
carry bags with these things in them."
"And I've seen this too--once," continued the youth, smiling, as he
pulled out a tobacco-pipe. Then he bent his head suddenly, put his nose
to the bag, and made a face expressive of supreme disgust.
"Ho! and I've seen this too. I have tasted it, and after tasting it I
was very miserable--so miserable that I hope never to be as miserable
again!"
As he spoke he looked at Adolay with that extreme solemnity which was
one of the characteristics of his face.
The girl returned the look, but did not smile. She did not speak, but
waited for more.
"The man who showed me these things was a good man," continued Cheenbuk.
"I do not know his name, but I liked him much. Yet I think he was not
wise to fill his mouth with smoke and his inside with sickness."
"Was he sick?" asked Adolay.
"No--he was not, but--I was."
While he was speaking he drew a long piece of Canada twist tobacco out
of the bag, and looked at it sagaciously for some time, nodding his head
as if he knew all about it.
"Yes, that is the thing he put in the pipe, and, after making a small
fire over it, drew the smoke into himself. At first I thought he would
die, or catch fire and burst--but he--he didn't, and he seemed to like
it."
"All our men like it," said Adolay; "they smoke every day--sometimes all
day. And some of our women like it too."
"Do _you_ like it?" asked the Eskimo, quickly.
"No, I don't like it."
"Good--that is well. Now, we will cook some of your dried meat for
supper."
By that time the fire was blazing cheerily. As the shades of night
deepened, the circle of light grew more and more ruddy until it seemed
like a warm cosy chamber in the heart of a cold grey setting. A couple
of small stakes were thrust into the ground in such a way that the two
pieces of venison impaled on them were presented to the heart of the
fire. Soon a frizzling sound was heard; then odours of a kind dear to
the hearts of hungry souls--to say nothing of their noses--began to
arise, and the couple thus curiously thrown together sat down side by
side to enjoy themselves, and supply the somewhat clamorous demands of
Nature.
They said little while feeding, but when the venison steaks had
well-nigh disappeared, a word or two began to pass to and fro. At last
Cheenbuk arose, and, taking a small cup of birch-bark, which, with a
skin of water, formed part of the supplies provided by Adolay, he filled
it to the brim, and the two concluded their supper with the cheering
fluid.
"Ah!" sighed the girl, when she had disposed of her share, "the white
traders bring us a black stuff which we mix with water hot, and find it
very good to drink."
"Yes? What is it?" asked Cheenbuk, applying his lips a second time with
infinite zest to the water.
"I know not what it is. The white men call it tee," said Adolay,
dwelling with affectionate emphasis on the _ee's_.
"Ho! I should like to taste that tee-ee," said the youth, with
exaggerated emphasis on the _ee's_. "Is it better than water?"
"I'm not sure of that," answered the girl, with a gaze of uncertainty at
the fire, "but we like it better than water--the women do; the men are
fonder of fire-water, when they can get it, but the white traders seldom
give us any, and they never give us much. We women are very glad of
that, for the fire-water makes our men mad and wish to fight. Tee, when
we take too much of it--which we always do--only makes us sick."
"Strange," said Cheenbuk, with a look of profundity worthy of Solomon,
"that your people should be so fond of smokes and drinks that make them
sick and mad when they have so much of the sparkling water that makes us
comfortable!"
Adolay made no reply to this, for her mind was not by nature
philosophically disposed, though she was intelligent enough to admire
the sagacity of a remark that seemed to her fraught with illimitable
significance.
"Have you any more strange things in your bundle?" asked the Eskimo,
whose curiosity was awakened by what had already been extracted from it.
"Have you some of the tee, or the fire-water, or any more of the thing
that smokes--what you call it?"
"Tubuko--no, I have no more of that than you saw in the fire-bag. The
white men sometimes call it bukey, and I have no fire-water or tee.
Sometimes we put a nice sweet stuff into the tee which the white men
call shoogir. The Indian girls are very fond of shoogir. They like it
best without being mixed with water and tee. But we have that in our
own land. We make it from the juice of a tree."
The interest with which Cheenbuk gazed into the girl's face while she
spoke, was doubtless due very much to the prettiness thereof, but it is
only just to add that the number and nature of the absolutely new
subjects which were thus opened up to him had something to do with it.
His imperfect knowledge of her language, however, had a bamboozling
effect.
"Here is a thing which I think you will be glad to see," continued the
girl, as she extracted a small hatchet from the bundle.
"Yes indeed; that is a _very_ good thing," said the youth, handling the
implement with almost affectionate tenderness. "I had one once--and
that, too, is a fine thing," he added, as she drew a scalping-knife from
her bundle.
"You may have them both," she said; "I knew you would need them on the
journey."
Cheenbuk was too much lost in admiration of the gifts--which to him were
so splendid--that he failed to find words to express his gratitude, but,
seizing a piece of firewood and resting it on another piece, he set to
work with the hatchet, and sent the chips flying in all directions for
some time, to the amusement, and no small surprise, of his companion.
Then he laid down the axe, and, taking up the scalping-knife, began to
whittle sticks with renewed energy. Suddenly he paused and looked at
Adolay with ineffable delight.
"They are good?" she remarked with a cheerful nod.
"Good, good, very good! We have nothing nearly so good. All our things
are made of bone or stone."
"Now," returned the girl, with a blink of her lustrous eyes, and a yawn
of her pretty mouth, which Nature had not yet taught her to conceal with
her little hand, "now, I am sleepy. I will lie down."
Cheenbuk replied with a smile, and pointed to the canoe with his nose.
Adolay took the hint, crept into the nest which the gallant youth had
prepared for her, curled herself up like a hedgehog, and was sound
asleep in five minutes.
The Eskimo, meanwhile, resumed his labours with the scalping-knife, and
whittled on far into the night--whittled until he had reduced every
stick within reach of his hand to a mass of shavings--a beaming
childlike glow of satisfaction resting on his handsome face all the
while, until the embers of the fire began to sink low, and only an
occasional flicker of flame shot up to enlighten the increasing
darkness. Then he laid the two implements down and covered them
carefully with a piece of deerskin, while his countenance resumed its
wonted gravity of expression.
Drawing up his knees until his chin rested on them, and clasping his
hands round them, he sat for a long time brooding there and gazing into
the dying embers of the fire; then he rose, stretched himself, and
sauntered down to the shore.
The night, although dark for the Arctic regions at that time of the
year, was not by any means obscure. On the contrary, it might have
passed for a very fair moonlight night in more southern climes, and the
flush of the coming day in the eastern sky was beginning to warm the
tops of the higher among the ice-masses, thereby rendering the rest of
the scene more coldly grey. The calm which had favoured the escape of
our fugitives still prevailed, and the open spaces had gradually widened
until the floes had assumed the form of ghostly white islets floating in
a blue-black sea, in which the fantastic cliffs, lumps, and pinnacles
were sharply reflected as in a mirror.
There was a solemnity and profound quietude about the scene and the hour
which harmonised well with the sedate spirit of the young Eskimo, as he
stood there for a long time contemplating the wonders and the beauties
of the world around and about him.
We know not what passes through the minds of untutored men in such
circumstances, but who shall dare to say that the Spirit of their
Creator may not be holding intercourse with them at such times?
Turning his back at length upon the sea, Cheenbuk returned to the camp,
lay down on the couch which he had made for himself on the opposite side
of the fire from the canoe, and, in a few moments more, was in the
health- and strength-restoring regions of Oblivion.