THE ROOSEVELT STARTS FOR HOME--ESQUIMO VILLAGES--NEW DOGS AND NEW DOG
FIGHTS
It was two-thirty P. M., July 17, 1909, that the _Roosevelt_ pointed her
bow southward and we left our winter quarters and Cape Sheridan. We were
on our journey home, all hands as happy as when, a year previous, we had
started on our way north, with the added satisfaction of complete
success. The ship had steamed but a short distance, when, owing to the
rapidly drifting ice in the channel, she had to be made fast to a
floeberg. At ten-thirty P. M., the lines were loosed and a new start
made. Without further incident, we reached Black Cape.
In rounding the cape the ship encountered a terrific storm, and it was
with the greatest difficulty that she made any headway. The storm
increased and the _Roosevelt_ had to remain in the channel, surrounded
by the tightly wedged floes, at the mercy of the wind. The gale
continued until the evening of the 20th. The constant surging back and
forth of the channel-pack, with the spring tides and the several huge
masses of ice, which repeatedly crashed against the ship's sides, caused
a delay of twelve days in Robeson Channel opposite Lincoln Bay.
Throughout the width of the entire channel nothing could be seen but
small pools of open water; two seals were seen sporting in one of these
pools, and one of the Esquimos attempted to kill them, but his aim
proved false.
It was not until the 25th that the ship was able to move of her own free
will, small leads having opened in close proximity to her. Ootah shot a
seal in one of the leads, and also harpooned a narwhal, but he did not
succeed in securing either. His brother Egingwah on the following day
shot two seals and harpooned a narwhal, and he secured all three of his
prizes. The Esquimos had a grand feast off the skin of the narwhal,
which they esteem as a great delicacy.
By the 27th the _Roosevelt_ had drifted as far south as Wrangell Bay,
and it was here that Slocum (Inighito) shot and secured a hood-seal,
which weighed over six hundred pounds, and seal-steaks were added to the
bill-of-fare.
The snow storms of the two days ceased on the 28th, and when the weather
cleared sufficiently for us to ascertain our whereabouts, we were much
surprised to find that we had drifted back north, opposite Lincoln Bay.
During the day the wind shifted to the north. Again we drifted
southward, until, just off Cape Beechey, the narrowest part of Robeson
Channel, a lead stretching southward for a distance of five miles was
sighted, and into this open water the ship steamed until the lead
terminated in Kennedy Channel, opposite Lady Franklin Bay, where the
_Roosevelt_ was ice-bound until August 4, drifting with the pack until
we were in a direct line with Cape Tyson and Bellot Isle. Three seals
were captured, one a hood-seal weighing 624 pounds, being eight feet
eleven inches in length; the other two were small ring-seals.
By ten A. M. of the 4th, the ice had slackened so considerably that the
_Roosevelt_, under full steam, set out and rapidly worked her way down
Kennedy Channel. From Crozier Island to Cape D'Urville she steamed
through practically open water, but a dense fog compelled us to make
fast to a large floe when almost opposite Cape Albert. It was not until
one A. M. of the 7th, despite several attempts, that the ship got clear
and steamed south again. Several small leads were noticed and numerous
narwhals were seen, but none were captured.
At three-thirty A. M., when nearing Cape Sabine, we observed that the
barometer had dropped to 29.73. A storm was coming, and every effort was
made to reach Payer Harbor, but before half of the distance had been
covered, the storm broke with terrific violence. The force of the gale
was such that, while swinging the boats inboard, we were drenched and
thoroughly chilled by the sheets of icy spray, which saturated us and
instantly froze. The _Roosevelt_ was blown over to starboard until the
rails were submerged. To save her, she was steered into Buchanan Bay,
under the lee of the cliffs, where she remained until the morning of
August 8.
At an early hour, we steamed down Buchanan Bay, passed Cocked Hat
Island, and a little later, Cape Sabine. At Cape Sabine was located
Camp Clay, the starvation camp of the Lady Franklin Bay expedition of
1881-1883, where the five survivors of the twenty-three members of the
expedition were rescued.
We entered Smith Sound. Instead of sailing on to Etah, Peary ordered the
ship into Whale Sound, in order that walrus-hunting could be done, so
that the Esquimos should have a plentiful supply of meat for the
following winter. Three walrus were captured, when a storm sprang up
with all of the suddenness of storms in this neighborhood, and the ship
crossed over from Cape Alexander to Cape Chalon. Cape Chalon is a
favorite resort of the Esquimos, and is known as Peter-ar-wick, on
account of the walrus that are to be found here during the months of
February and March.
At Nerke, just below Cape Chalon, we found the three Esquimo families of
Ahsayoo, Tungwingwah, and Teddylingwah, and it was from these people we
first learned of Dr. Cook's safe return from Ellesmere Land. In spite of
the fact that the _Roosevelt_ was overloaded with dogs, paraphernalia,
and Esquimos, these three families were taken aboard.
With them were several teams of dogs. The dogs aboard ship were the
survivors of the pack that had been with us all through the campaign,
and a number of litters of puppies that had been whelped since the
spring season. Our dogs were well acquainted with each other and dog
fights were infrequent and of little interest, but the arrival of the
first dog of the new party was the signal for the grandest dog fight I
have ever witnessed. I feel justified in using the language of the fairy
Ariel, in Shakespeare's "Tempest": "Now is Hell empty, and all the
devils are here."
Backward and forward, the foredeck of the ship was a howling, snarling,
biting, yelping, moving mass of fury, and it was a long round of fully
ten or fifteen minutes before the two king dogs of the packs got
together, and then began the battle for supremacy of the pack. It lasted
for some time. It would have been useless to separate them. They would
decide sooner or later, and it was better to have it over, even if one
or both contestants were killed. At length the fight was ended; our old
king dog, Nalegaksoah, the champion of the pack, and the laziest dog in
it, was still the king. After vanquishing his opponent and receiving
humble acknowledgments, King Nalegaksoah went stamping up and down
before the pack and received the homage due him; the new dogs, whining
and fawning and cringingly submissive, bowed down before him.
The chief pleasure of the Esquimo dogs is fighting; two dogs, the best
of friends, will hair-pull and bite each other for no cause whatever,
and strange dogs fight at sight; team-mates fight each other on the
slightest of provocations; and it seems as though sometimes the fights
are held for the purpose of educating the young. When a fight is in
progress, it is the usual sight to see several mother dogs, with their
litters, occupying ring-side seats. I have often wondered what chance a
cat would stand against an Esquimo dog.
The ship kept on, and I had turned in and slept, and on arising had
found that we had reached a place called Igluduhomidy, where a single
family was located. Living with this family was a very old Esquimo,
Merktoshah, the oldest man in the whole tribe, and not a blood-relation
to any member of it. He had crossed over from the west coast of Smith
Sound the same year that Hall's expedition had wintered there, and has
lived there ever since. He had been a champion polar bear and big game
hunter, and though now a very old man, was still vigorous and valiant,
in spite of the loss of one eye.
We stopped at Kookan, the most prosperous of the Esquimo settlements, a
village of five tupiks (skin tents), housing twenty-four people, and
from there we sailed to the ideal community of Karnah. Karnah is the
most delightful spot on the Greenland coast. Situated on a gently
southward sloping knoll are the igloos and tupiks, where I have spent
many pleasant days with my Esquimo friends and learned much of the
folk-lore and history. Lofty mountains, sublime in their grandeur,
overtower and surround this place, and its only exposure is southward
toward the sun. In winter its climate is not severe, as compared with
other portions of this country, and in the perpetual daylight of summer,
life here is ideal. Rivulets of clear, cold water, the beds of which
are grass- and flower-covered, run down the sides of the mountains and,
but for the lack of trees, the landscape is as delightful as anywhere on
earth.