The Peculiar People proving to be Savages, the Castaways
seize the First Opportunity to leave them, not relishing
their Company.
"I have not latterly said much about the Dean; but you may be very sure
that such a fine fellow could not fail to be greatly delighted with the
change that had come about, as it not only led us away from our desolate
life on the desert island, but gave us a promise at least of the rescue
which we had so earnestly prayed for. 'We ought to be very thankful,'
said the Dean to me one day, 'very thankful indeed for this
deliverance.' But as I did not much relish the habits and customs of the
savages, I did not find myself of the same thankful disposition; so I
replied to the Dean, that the change looked much like that of the fish
who fell out of the frying-pan into the fire. 'You should not say so,'
replied the Dean. 'I see the hand of God in it; and he who has
mercifully preserved us through so many trials and dangers will not
desert us now.'
"The Dean said no more at that time, but he became very thoughtful,
while, as for myself, I felt quite ashamed that I had spoken so
slightingly of the savages, and had shown so much impatience with their
rather disagreeable company; for, to tell the truth, their ways were
somewhat offensive, as they never washed their faces, and were
altogether rather a filthy set.
"The Dean, however, did not stop with preaching about them, but, on the
contrary, did everything he could for them. One of the hunters had gone
to catch seals, and, the ice breaking up, he was drifted out to sea,
where he took refuge on an iceberg, upon which he managed to drag his
dogs and sledge. Here he lived through terrible storms and cold for a
whole moon (that being the way they reckon time), and he only escaped
finally by the iceberg drifting in near the land, when the sea froze
around it. After great trouble he got ashore, with both of his feet
dreadfully frozen, which is easily accounted for when you know that the
poor fellow had no shelter at all while on the iceberg, and had nothing
to eat but his dogs, all of which died of starvation. This savage had no
wife, and the Dean took care of him, and dressed his frost-bites, and
was so good to him that the savages all called him '_Paw-weit_', which
means 'Little Good-heart.' So the Dean got on famously; but the poor
frozen savage that he had been so kind to died at last, and was buried
in the snow.
"A child fell on the ice, and broke its arm, and the Dean set it, and
made it all right; and to other people he did many things to show his
sympathy for them; but, when he began to tell them about our religion,
they did not understand him, and had no mind to listen. This very much
grieved the Dean; for he wanted to convert the whole of them, and
thought, if he only knew their language better, he could persuade them
all to be Christians,--which I think very likely, for nobody could
resist him.
"We remained at the snow village three weeks, but we did not do much
more hunting, as the savages seemed to think they had enough for their
present wants; and since they are almost constantly moving about from
place to place in search of food, they never store up much for the
future. Having enough to eat for the present, they let the future take
care of itself; and, sure of a good meal, they amuse themselves mostly
with telling stories, usually about each other,--that is, when they are
not eating or sleeping, which I must say occupies most of their time.
"They had a singular custom in their story-telling which I have never
seen among any other people. One person recites the story, and the
listeners break in, every now and then, with a laughing chorus that is
nothing more than a repetition of the meaningless words, '_amna aya_',
which are sung over and over to any extent. The women generally enjoy it
the most, and sing the loudest, especially when a man is concerned. I
will give you a specimen of this kind of song,--translated, of course,
as I have long ago forgotten how to speak their language.
"Eatum is telling the story of a bear-hunt, and as you will see that it
is a kind of song, I will sing it for you, and you can join in the
chorus just as well as if you were all little savages yourselves. We
will call it
"THE SONG OF KARSUK'S BEAR-HUNT.
"A bear is seen upon the ice,
_Amna aya_;
Karsuk goes out to hunt the bear,
_Amna, amna aya_,
"The dogs get quick upon the trail,
_Amna aya_;
The dogs are pulling all they can,
_Amna, amna, aya_.
"The bear is running all he can,
_Amna aya_;
The bear gets tired and cannot run,
_Amna, amna aya_.
"He turns around to charge Karsuk,
_Amna aya_;
Karsuk jumps off and runs away,
_Amna, amna aya_,
"He runs away all full of fright,
_Amna aya_;
So full of fright he tumbles down,
_Amna, amna aya_,
"Bear kills the dogs and breaks the sledge,
_Amna aya_;
What girl will marry such a man?
_Amna, amna aya_."
and so on, after that, they keep _aya_-ing, _aya_-ing, and
_amna-aya_-ing uproariously, until they are entirely broken down with
shouting and laughing, in the midst of which Karsuk is pretty sure to
run away.
"In the same manner I have heard the story of Metak's love adventure
sung, or rather recited, or _amna-aya_-ed as one might say.
"They use the same _amna-aya_ chorus when they sing over the dead, or
sing praises of the dead, only instead of being lively, then it is sung
in a solemn tone. I will repeat one called
"THE GRAVE-SONG OF MERAKUT.
"Merakut, Merakut, Merakut dead!
_Amna aya_;
Merakut dead, her lamp is smoking,
_Amna, amna aya_.
Her children are crying, her baby is freezing,
_Amna aya_;
O, her hut and our hearts are all cold!
_Amna, amna aya_."
and after that, as in the other song, they keep on _amna-aya_-ing for a
long while, but with a very doleful voice and manner. Indeed, it is
quite as distressing to hear them _amna-aya_ the dead as it is amusing
to hear them _amna-aya_ the living.
"The Dean and I very much wanted to go on another bear-hunt, but the
savages said it was too late in the season for that, as the ice had many
cracks in it, and there was no use chasing a bear, as he would jump into
the first crack he came to, and swim over it to the other side, and
there he would be safe enough. And, indeed, when I climbed one day to
the top of a tall iceberg, and looked out in the direction of our
solitary island, I could see several cracks from a yard to a hundred
yards wide, so that it was very fortunate we escaped from the island
when we did.
"The savages now said it was time to be moving, or a crack might come
between us and the shore. Indeed, the season was getting well advanced;
the snow was melting a little, and in places it was quite sloppy; so
everything in and about the snow huts was packed upon the sledges, and
we went then to the main-land, which was not more than ten miles
distant. Here we came upon a village of three huts, built in the
hillside very near the sea, and were in many respects fitted up as our
own had been; only they had regularly constructed walls of stones and
turf, which, tapering in from either side, joined at the top, making a
space large enough to accommodate two or three families in each hut.
Into these three huts were crowded all the men, women, and children that
had been in the snow village.
"There we lived five days, after which we took up our march again,
keeping along near the shore, where the ice was most solid and safe.
Then we came to a deep, broad bay where the hillside, which was exposed
to the south, was quite free of snow,--the snow having melted and run
down to the sea. Here we halted, and the savages went to some great
piles of stones, and brought out from under them a number of seal-skins,
which were spread over some narwhal horns that were just like 'Old
Crumply,' and in a few hours they had pitched two tents, under which we
all slept soundly, being very tired. The next day they got more
seal-skins, and pitched three more tents, and a few days afterward other
people came along, and put up two other tents, making in all
seven,--quite a little seal-skin village, and a much more comfortable
looking one than the snow village had been.
"Here it seemed to be the intention of the savages to remain for some
time, as they went regularly to work to prepare for hunting various
kinds of game, chiefly walruses and seals, and besides these, among
others, an animal I had not seen before,--a beautiful rabbit, or hare
rather, very large, and pure white. These were quite numerous, and fed
upon the buds and bark of the willow-bushes, and were caught by
stretching a very long line across the tops of a great number of stones,
or piles of stones rather, which were placed about six feet apart, the
line itself being about a foot from the ground. To this line they tied a
great number of loops, and then all the people, going out, surrounded
the rabbits and drove them under the line, and several of them found
themselves noosed when they least expected it. I saw there also a
beautiful white bird called a ptarmigan, which is a grouse, but it could
not be caught.
"By this time we had become quite domesticated among the savages. They
called me _Annorak_, which meant that I resembled the wind when I
talked,--that is, I talked when I liked and where I liked, and nothing
could stop me, while the Dean was much more sober. Him they finally
called _Aupadleit_, which means 'Little Red-head,' though the Dean's
hair was not exactly red, but very bright, and the savages admired it
very much; so the Dean, to humor them, cut off great locks of it, and
gave it to them all round.
"I took a great interest in Eatum's children, and this further inclined
Mr. and Mrs. Eatum to have a good opinion of me. As they were people of
much consequence in their tribe, this was a matter of great importance;
and, in truth, the juvenile Eatums were quite an interesting pair of
savages, and were fond of play like any other children. One was a boy
and the other a girl. I cannot remember their right names, but the Dean
and I christened the boy _Mop-head_, because of the great quantity of
dirty black hair he had, and the girl we called _Gimlet-eyes_. Mop-head
had a little sledge made of bones, just like his father's; and with this
the two children used to play at travelling and other games. Gimlet-eyes
had little dolls carved out of bones, which she used to dress up in furs
and put on the sledge for Mop-head to drag when they went on their
journeys; and he had little spears, and she had little pots and lamps,
and they used to make excursions over the snow that you could hardly
throw a stone to the end of; and then they would build little snow
houses and put the dolls in them, and, while Mop-head went off to hunt,
Gimlet-eyes would _amna-aya_ them to sleep. Thus you see little children
are much alike all the world over.
"In these playful exercises we used to amuse ourselves with the
children; and when we were travelling about in earnest, the Dean and I
sometimes pulled Mop-head's little sledge for him, when we were going
slow: and he thought it great fun to have the white-faced strangers
drag his sister's lamps and pots and dolls along.
"And now the summer was fairly come. The snow was melting very rapidly,
and first in small and then in large streams the water came rushing and
roaring down into the sea. The birds soon afterward came back from the
south,--the eider-ducks and the little auks, which we had caught in the
summer time when upon the island; and then, as soon as the snow was all
gone, the moss and stunted grass grew green, and plants sprouted up here
and there, and the butterflies with bright yellow wings went gathering
the honey from flower to flower, and you cannot imagine how glad we were
once more to come out of the dreary winter into this bright sunshine and
this pleasant summer.
"It was apparent now why the savages had gone to this place. The little
auks came in great numbers, and these birds I was told formed their
principal subsistence in the summer season; indeed sometimes this is
their only kind of food. There must have been millions on millions of
them, swarming there like bees, and they made their nests among the
stones on the hillside. The savages caught them as we had done, in nets.
There were some reindeer, but these were not often caught. The reindeer
here run wild, and are not as in Lapland tamed and taught to draw
sledges. When the savages went on this kind of hunting, two always went
together, walking so close, one behind the other, as to appear like one
man. As soon as the deer saw the hunters, the latter would turn round
and go back the other way, and the deer, being very curious, would
follow them. Thus a deer may sometimes be enticed a long distance, and
if through a narrow defile, there is then a chance of catching him; for
one of the hunters drops down suddenly behind a rock, while the other
goes on as if nothing had happened. The deer, thus cheated, keeps
following the single hunter, where he had before followed a double one
all unknown to himself, and at length approaches very near to the hunter
lying behind the rock. As soon as the deer comes within a few yards of
him, this concealed hunter rises, and throws his harpoon, the line of
which he has previously made fast to a heavy stone. If fortunate enough
to hit the deer, and the harpoon to hold, the animal is easily killed by
the two hunters, who attack it with their spears.
"Besides the birds that I have told you of, there came a great many
snipes, and different varieties of sea-gulls, and ducks of various
species, and gerfalcons, and ravens,--also some little sparrows.
"I was very desirous to know how they managed to make their harpoon and
spear heads, as I observed that they were all tipped with iron. So one
day they took us over to a place they call _Savisavick_, which means
'The Iron Place,'--the name being derived from a large block of meteoric
iron, from which the savages chipped small scales; and these were set in
the edges and tips of their harpoon and spear heads, just as I had done
with my brass buttons. They also made knives in the same way. Many of
their spear-handles were nothing more than narwhal horns, just like 'Old
Crumply'; and so you see how the Lord provides for all his creatures,
endowing them all, whether white or black or copper-colored, with the
same instinct of self-preservation, which leads them to seek and obtain
for the security of their lives the materials that He places within
their reach. How beautiful are all His works! and how constantly He
watches over the rich and the poor, the savage and the Christian, the
just and the unjust alike!
"Thus occupied, we drifted on into the final week of July. There was
scarcely any snow left on the hillsides by this time; the air was filled
with the incessant cry of birds and the constant plash of falling
waters. We could sleep well enough once more on the green grass in the
open air; and another period of watching now began, for here it was that
the vessels passed every year, as the savages told us. Sometimes,
however, they did not stop; but, when the ships appeared, the savages
always went to a valley facing the sea, from one side of which the snow
never melted, and, running to and fro over the white snow, endeavored to
attract the attention of the people on the ships.
"We were much alarmed to find the ice holding firmly along the shore;
and, as far away as the eye could reach, there was not much water to be
seen. At last, however, a strong wind came, and started the ice. Some
cracks were soon opened, and then a long lead or lane of water was seen
stretching away to the south, and running close in by the land.
"The savages said that the _Oomeaksuaks_ (big ships) would come very
soon now, if at all; so we watched very carefully for them. The Dean and
I did not hunt any more, as the savages, seeing how anxious we were, and
how our hearts yearned for our own homes and kindred, provided us with
food in abundance; and, besides this, they sent some of their women and
young lads to aid us in looking out for the ships.
"Thus the time wore on, and we were becoming very fearful that the ships
would not come at all. This was a dreadful thought to us, for, although
the savages were very obliging, yet we looked forward with great dread
to living long with them. Besides this and our longing to get home, we
had had quite enough of this cold, desolate part of the world, where the
sun never sets in summer nor rises in winter.
"While reflecting in this way, we heard one of the savages cry out
'_Oomeaksuak, Oomeaksuak!_' several times; and, running a little higher
up the hillside whence the cry proceeded, our eyes were gladdened by
seeing far off, with the hull yet hidden below the horizon, a ship under
full sail, steering northward. At first the Dean, who had been so often
cheated, thought it might be an iceberg; but it was clearly a ship that
we saw this time. From fear that it might be an iceberg, we passed now
to fear that it might hold off from the land, and not discover us, which
would be even harder to bear.
"By and by the hull of the ship was plainly to be seen, and after a
while we discovered that the ship was not alone, but that another was
following only a few miles behind it; and directly two more were seen,
making four, and then a fifth hove in sight some hours afterward. We
knew this must be part of a whaling fleet that annually visits the
Arctic seas, and we rejoiced greatly at the prospect of our deliverance.
"You will see how fortunate it was for us that there were so many of
these ships; for, as we had feared, the first ship held so far away from
the land that it was hopeless to think of being seen from her. But the
lead through which this first ship had sailed off from the land was
closed up before the others could enter it; and now these other ships
were forced to come nearer to us. Seeing this, we hastened to the white
hillside I have spoken of before, all the savages accompanying us, and
we all began running up and down; but the next ship was still too far
away to discover us. And the same with another and still another. Thus
had four ships gone by without any soul on board being aware that two
poor shipwrecked boys were so near, calling to them, and praying with
all their might that they might see or hear.
"But there was yet a fifth ship, a long way behind all the others, and
we still had hope. If this failed us, all was over, and we must be
content to live with the savages. We had observed one thing which gave
us great encouragement. Each ship that had passed us came a little
nearer to the land; and this we saw was in consequence of the ice
drifting steadily in before the wind. Indeed, by the time the last ship
came along, the ice had pushed in ahead of her, and had touched the
land, while the other ships had run through just in time.
"When the people on board saw what was ahead of them, and that they
could not pass, they tacked ship, and stood away from us; but we saw
clearly enough, from our elevated position on the hill, that they were
not likely to get through in that direction,--which was, no doubt, a
much more pleasant thing for us than for the people on board. This
proved true; for presently they tacked again, and stood straight in
towards where we were standing. Coming very near the shore, we did
everything we could to attract their attention. We shouted as loud as we
could, we threw up our caps and waved them round our heads, and we ran
to and fro, all the savages doing the same.
"O how excited we became! almost frantic, indeed. A ship so near and yet
so far away! Four ships gone by and out of sight! Those on board the
fifth and last unconscious of our presence on the desolate shore; and
how could we make the people see us? I cannot tell you what anxious
moments these were during which we watched the ship as she came nearer
and nearer to where we stood.
"At length she is so near that we can see the people on the deck; why
can they not see us?
"The sails are shivering; the ship is coming to the wind! Have they
seen us? are they heaving the vessel to? will they send a boat ashore to
fetch us off?
"We hear the creaking of the blocks; the yards are swinging round; the
braces are hauled taut; the other tack is aboard; they are _not_ heaving
to!
"The vessel fills away again; the sails are bulging out; the vessel
drives ahead; they have not seen us!
"Shout again! Up and down, up and down, once more across the
snow,--shout! shout all in chorus! but it is of no use.
"The bows fall off; the vessel turns back upon her course. Where is she
going now? is she homeward bound?
"O no! she steers for the land; she nears it; she passes beyond a point
below us, and is out of sight! Where has she gone?
"We follow after her, hurrying all we can. Miles of rough travelling
over rocks and through deep gorges,--climbing down one side and up the
other. The savages are with us.
"What is our hope? It is that the vessel, failing to get through the
ice, has sought the land for shelter, and will find an anchorage and
there remain until the ice opens ahead, and gives the ship once more a
chance to go upon her course.
"Soon we round a lofty cliff that rises almost squarely from the sea,
with only a narrow, rugged track between it and the water, and we come
upon a narrow bay. A little farther, and there the vessel lies before
us,--quietly at anchor, with her sails all furled.
"Again we see the men upon the deck,--faintly, but still we see them.
"Again we shout.
"We see a man halting by the bulwarks; something glitters in his hand.
Is it a spyglass?
"No; he moves away.
"Is that a man mounting to the mizen cross-trees?
"Yes, it is a man.
"Is that a spyglass glittering in his hand? Yes, surely it must be.
"He waves his cap; he shouts to the people on deck; he descends; all is
bustle in the ship; a boat is lowered to the water; men spring into it;
the oars are dipped; the men give way; the boat heads for the spot where
we are standing; we are discovered! O, God be praised! at last, at last!
"The boat cuts through the water quickly; it nears us; again we see
white human faces; again we hear human speech in a familiar tongue.
"'In oars!'--the boat touches the rocks, and we are there to take the
painter, and to make her fast.
"Two of the men spring out; a man rises in the stern; he shades his eyes
with his hands, as if to protect them from the glaring sun, and stares
at us, and then at the savages, who--of both sexes, and of every age and
size--surround us. Then he calls out, 'Is there a white man in that
crowd?'
"'Yes, sir; two of them.'
"'I thought so from the motions,' says the man. Then he stared at me
again, and cried: 'Is that the lubber Hardy, of the _Blackbird_?'
"'Yes, sir; it is,' I answered.
"'Is that other chap the cabin-boy?--him they called the Dean?'
"'Yes, sir,' spoke up the Dean.
"In an instant the man was out upon the rocks, and he grasped us warmly
by the hands. He had recognized us, now we recognized _him_. He was the
master of a ship that lay alongside the _Blackbird_ when we first went
among the ice, catching seals. His ship was the _Rob Roy_, of Aberdeen.
"This much he said to quiet us, for he saw the state of agitation we
were in. Then he went on to tell us that the _Blackbird_, not having
been heard from in all this time, it was thought that she must have gone
down somewhere among the ice, with all on board; and he told us further,
that he was on a whaling voyage now, and then he said, 'The _Rob Roy_
will give you a bonny welcome, lads.'
"Afterward he told us that the vessels were, as we had supposed, a part
of the whaling fleet, and he said it was fortunate that he had
discovered us, as this was our only chance, for all the other vessels
that were following him would be very likely, on account of the state of
the ice, to hold to the westward, and not come near the land.
"All this time the savages were _yeh-yeh_-ing round us, greatly to the
amusement of the captain of the _Rob Roy_ and his boat's crew. Then,
when I told the captain how good they had been to us, he sent his boat
back to the ship, and had fetched for them wood and knives and iron and
needles, in such great abundance that they set up a _yeh, yeh_, in
consequence, which, for anything I know to the contrary, may be going on
even to this present time.
"But what was the happiness of the savages compared to ours? Our
feelings cannot be described. It seemed almost as if we had come from
death to life. We could hardly believe our eyes,--that this was the ship
we had so long hoped for, this the rescue we had so often despaired of.
We cried with very joy, and behaved like two crazy people. The captain
of the _Rob Roy_ laughed good-naturedly at us, and proposed at once to
hurry us off aboard his ship.
"We kept our promise to give Eatum all our property; but the captain of
the _Rob Roy_ wanted 'Old Crumply' and 'The Dean's Delight,' and our pot
and lamp, and some other things; so he gave Eatum other valuables in
place of them. Then we took leave of our savage friends, which we of
course did not do without some feelings of sorrow and regret at parting
from them, remembering as we did how kind they had been to us, and how
they had rescued us from our unhappy situation; and the savages seemed a
little sorry too. First came Eatum and Mrs. Eatum, and then the two
little Eatums (Mop-head and Gimlet-eyes) that I had so often played
with; then Old Grim and Big-toes and Little-nose; and Awak, the walrus,
and Kossuit; and the two young ladies who might have been our wives: and
then all the rest of them, big and little, old and young.
"Then off we went to the _Rob Roy_; and a fair wind coming soon, the ice
began to move away from the land, the Rob Roy's sails were unfurled to
the fresh breeze, and now, with hearts turned thankfully to Heaven for
our deliverance, we were again afloat upon the blue water,--whither
bound we did not know, but _homeward_ in the end."
"O, how glad you must have been!" said Fred.
"How splendidly the rescue and all that comes round," said William;
"just like it does in all the printed books. Why, Captain Hardy, it
couldn't have been better if you'd made the story up, it looks so
_real_!"
While, as for little Alice, she never said a word, but only looked upon
the old man wonderingly.