We set up a Military Despotism on "Isle Aktok."--"No Better
than Filibusters!"--The Seizure of the Oomiak.--The
Seal-Tax.--A Case of Discipline.--_Wutchee_ and
_Wunchee_.--The Inside of a Husky Hut.--"Eigh, Eigh!"--An
Esquimau Ball.--A Funeral.--Wutchee and Wunchee's
Cookery.--The Esquimau Whip.
"Raed, will you act as leader, or captain?" Kit asked.
"I decline," was the reply. "It is hardly fair to ask me, I think.
That honor--if you look upon it as such--is clearly yours."
"Very well, then. All hands launch the boat!"
It was done.
"Load in the walrus-hides."
They were rolled up and thrown in.
"Ship the _spider_ too."
I carried it aboard.
"Now each man spend fifteen minutes attending to his musket! Get off
all rust! See that the locks move easily! Load them, and fix the
bayonets!"
This done, we called Guard, and embarked; not forgetting to take our
dipper of salt, the walrus-tusks, and Wade's broken bayonet.
"Give 'way!" was the order.
Weymouth and Donovan dipped the oars; and we darted out from the
little cove beneath the ledges where for seven days we had kept our
camp-fire blazing. Kit took up a paddle, and from the stern directed
our course toward the larger island.
"I can't see what better we are than any gang of desperadoes or
filibusters," Raed remarked.
"Circumstances alter cases, Raed," replied Kit.
"Now, for God's sake, don't shed the blood of any of the poor
wretches!" Raed said.
"Never fear: we will manage it without killing any of them, I guess."
On coming up within a quarter of a mile of the shore, we surveyed it
carefully. There were none of the Esquimaux in sight, however, to
oppose our landing; and the boat was rowed along to within four or
five hundred yards of the place where the _oomiak_ and _kayaks_ had
been drawn up on the shore. Landing, we drew up our boat between two
large rocks, and went along to where the _oomiak_ lay.
"What a great scow of a craft it is!" exclaimed Weymouth.
"Not less than thirty-five or forty feet long," Raed remarked.
"Seven feet wide, certain," said Wade.
"That's walrus-hide that it is covered with, I think," said Kit; "four
or five hides sewed together. We might have our two sewed together for
a tent."
"We'll have them do it for us after we've got our _dynasty_
established," said Wade.
"Forward, now!" cried Kit.
We followed their trail up from their canoes; and, after crossing
several ledgy ridges, at length espied their encampment, distant about
half a mile from the water. It was in a hollow, surrounded by crags
and rocks. The place had probably been chosen on account of its
sheltered situation. It was doubtless an old haunt of theirs.
"Now form in line, boys," Kit requested, "and move on steadily!"
We did so, Guard walking soberly behind us. There were five tents of
seal-skin clustered together near what we discovered to be a spring,
or run, of water. Half a dozen Huskies were in sight, moving about the
camp; and, the moment our approach was discovered, they came pouring
out to the number of thirty or forty. As we came up, a few scattered,
and ran off among the crags; but the greater part stood huddled
together.
"Now keep cool, boys!" Kit advised. "Don't fire in any case, unless I
give the word,--except Wade. He may fire his musket in the air when we
come close to them, by way of giving them a foretaste of what we can
do."
When we had come up facing them to within three or four yards, Kit
gave the order to halt. Wade fired his musket. The swarthy,
long-haired crowd stared hard at us in perfect silence. Kit then
advanced a little, and pointing to us, and then to himself, exclaimed
in a loud voice,--
"_Cob-loo-nak!_" ("Englishmen!")
And, by way of giving emphasis to the announcement, he repeated it
several times. Then, pointing off to the east and north, he said,--
"_Oomiak-sook!_" ("Big ship!")
And, when this had been duly repeated, he cried out,--
"_Chymo--aunay!_" ("The trade is far off!")
"Now the next thing is to seize the _oomiak_," said he.
"We will make them help as bring it up here. I'll detail a party for
that purpose."
He now pointed off to the shore with the word _oomiak_, and, stepping
up to one of the men, laid his hand on his shoulder, and made signs
for him to go with us. The man, a stout, short fellow, seemed partly
to comprehend his meaning, and rather reluctantly moved out from his
fellows.
"We shall want as many as seven or eight of them," remarked Wade.
"Form a ring around this one, then, while I get out another," said
Kit.
But the second one backed off as Kit approached him, gesticulating,
and shouting, "_Na-mick, na-mick!_" and, on Kit's laying his hand on
his shoulder, he let out a "straight left" with considerable _vim_.
"Donovan," said Kit, "take hold of him!"
Don made a rush, and, clutching one hand into his hair, shook him
about, tripped him up, and held the point of the butcher-knife at his
throat. The savage howled and begged. With a single effort Donovan set
him on his feet, and thrust him into the ring. The third, fourth, and
fifth man came out at a mere tap on the shoulder. But the sixth--a
little dark fellow--jumped back when Kit stepped up to him, and struck
with a rough dagger-shaped weapon made of a walrus-tusk. Indeed, it
was a wonder he had not stabbed him; for the movement was remarkably
quick and cat-like. Donovan sprang forward; but Kit caught his arm,
and dealt him a blow with his fist that sent him reeling to the
ground. Don seized him by the collar of his bear-skin smock, and,
with a twitch and a kick, sent him spinning into the ring. Several of
the remaining men had run to their tents, and now re-appeared with
harpoons in their hands. Kit took his musket, and, walking up to one
of them, struck the dart out of his hand with a tweak of the bayonet,
and then walked him along to the ring.
"I guess seven will be enough," said Wade.
"Well, keep round them," replied Kit. "Don't let 'em get away from us.
Ready! Forward, march!"
We turned to go down to the _oomiak_, and had proceeded a few steps,
when some of the savages about the huts suddenly shouted "_Ka-ka,
ka-ka!_" In an instant their dogs, which had been growling and
prowling about all the time, rushed after us, barking madly. Guard was
a little behind us. They set upon him like hungry wolves. Such a
barking and snarling! Kit and Wade, who formed the rear-guard, ran to
the rescue. Wade laid on them with the butt of his musket; while Kit,
with his bayonet, gave several of the gaunt, wolfish curs thrusts
which speedily changed their growls to yelps of agony. The savages
cried out dismally. Exclamations of "_Mickee!_" "_Arkut mickee!_"
"_Parut mickee!_" besought us not to kill them. They had set them on
to us, nevertheless. The dog riot suppressed, we moved on down to the
shore. The _oomiak_ was then turned bottom up, and the mast which had
supported their sails thrust under it transversely about ten feet back
of the bows. This mast was a stick of yellow pine, from Labrador
probably, about fifteen feet long. It projected four or five feet on
each side,--far enough for them to take hold to carry the _oomiak_ on
it. Wade ran out to our boat and brought one of the oars, which was
thrust under, near the stern, in the same way. Kit then stationed six
of the Huskies at the mast-pole forward, three on each side: the other
he placed at the stern end of the scow. Weymouth took hold of one end
of the paddle, and Donovan the other. Kit then made signs to the
Huskies to lift at their pole. They raised it; and the sailors lifting
the stern at the same time, and walking on, we had it fairly started.
It was pretty heavy, however. The Esquimaux soon began to pant; seeing
which, we had them set it down and rest every thirty or forty rods.
We were near an hour getting back to their huts. They had worked well.
Their part of the load must have been somewhat over a hundred pounds
per man, we thought.
"Better than niggers; a great deal better," Wade pronounced them. "I'm
not sure that it wouldn't be a good plan to import them into the
United States to work on our railroads."
"For slaves, I suppose," said Raed.
"No; not for slaves. Now that slavery is fairly abolished, I am not
much in favor of its re-establishment. Take them down to work for fair
wages. Should as lief have them as to have the Chinese, and risk it."
"That makes me think," Kit remarked, "that I have read that some
ethnologists think the Esquimaux are a branch of the Chinese nation."
"You would send vessels like the cooly ships up here to kidnap them, I
suppose," Raed observed. "You could only carry them away by main
force. They are too much attached to their bleak home to leave it
voluntarily."
"Well, what of that," said Wade. "Don't be so dreadfully afraid to
have a little force used! If it would permanently better their
condition, why not bring the whole nation of them farther south by
force. A horde of ignorant savages like these don't always know what's
best for them, by a long sight. If all these polar tribes could be
brought down into a milder climate, it would be vastly better for
them. So of the ignorant, brutish negroes of Africa: if they could be
got out of their barbarous haunts, and brought up into the latitude of
New York and Paris, it would be vastly better for them; and they might
be made to do something useful in the world. Millions of hands are
lying idle in Africa, which, under proper direction, might be turned
to some account, and made to contribute both to the world's progress
and their own happiness. But, of course, such savage tribes will never
move of their own accord: it remains for more enlightened nations to
move them."
"That's an argument for the re-opening of the slave-trade, I presume,"
Raed remarked.
"Oh, no! You judge me too severely. I meant just what I said; nothing
more."
"If what Wade proposes could be done without violent usage, suffering,
and injustice, I think it would be a great and good work," said Kit.
"Well, in that I agree with you fully," replied Raed; "but the trouble
would be to find a nation or a company that would deal justly and
humanely with such savages."
We let them rest an hour after bringing up the _oomiak_; then started
them back to bring up our own boat, with our _spider_ and
walrus-skins. This took till nearly six o'clock, evening. The
walrus-skins were then unrolled, and spread out on the ground.
"Now we want these sewed together," said Kit: "then we can pitch them
on their _oomiak_-mast for a tent-pole."
Wade spread out the two skins so that the edges touched each other:
then, beckoning to one of the men, he pointed first to the edges,
next to the seams where the hide had been sewed on the _oomiak_, then
off to the huts, pronouncing the word "_hennelay_" ("woman"). The
savage understood him in a moment, and went off into the hut.
Presently two chubby faces appeared at the doorway, but shrank back
the moment we espied them. We could hear a great talking and urging
going on inside. After a while, when we had gone to move the _oomiak_
round so as to form one side of a sort of fort, they stole out, and
came reluctantly along, the man following them, apparently to keep
them from escaping. Seeing them approaching, Kit and Wade went to meet
them, smiling and bowing, and pointing to the walrus-skins. They knew
what was wanted, and fell to work to sew the two hides together,
occasionally casting shy eyes toward us. What amused us was, that each
was the exact counterpart of the other. They were just of a size, and
of the same height. Face, features, and expression were identical. The
man, who might possibly have been their father, but more probably
their elder brother, saw our amazed looks, and said "_Bi-coit-suk_:"
at least, it sounded like that. The meaning of the word we could only
guess at. But, if _bi-coit-suk_ does not mean twins, I am greatly
mistaken. On questioning the man, using the word _kina_, and pointing
to each, we learned, after he understood us, that one was named
_Wutchee_, and the other _Wunchee_. The meanings of these words I have
no need to translate: they were decidedly significant, and amused us a
good deal. For sewing the hides together they used an awl of bone. The
thread, which was of the sinew of some animal, was thrust through the
awl-holes like a shoemaker's waxed-end, and drawn tight. When they had
finished, Kit gave _Wutchee_ (or _Wunchee_, for the life of me I
couldn't tell which) a half-dozen pins from a round pin-ball he
cherished, and three or four bright nickel five-cent bits. Wade then
gave _Wunchee_ (?) his pen-knife, and an old cuff-button he happened
to have in his pocket. They accepted these presents as modest as you
please; but it did seem a little droll to see them immediately fall to
licking them all over with their tongues. They did not seem to act as
if they considered the gifts fairly their own till they had _licked_
them. We had not observed this practice among those who boarded us at
the Middle Savage Isles; but with these the custom seemed a universal
one among the women. Even if the gift were a rusty nail, they would
lick it all the same. It is said that the mothers lick their young
children over like she-bears. Wade also gave the man who had
accompanied them the point of his broken bayonet. The fellow looked
it over, and then, getting his harpoon, unlashed the bone blade, and
substituted the bayonet-point in its place.
"He seems to understand its use," Kit remarked. "Hope he won't
experiment with it on us unawares."
The walrus-skins were then raised on the _oomiak_ mast, the edges
resting on the bottoms of our boat and the _oomiak_, placed on both
sides. Stones laid along the edges held them in place. Not to be too
near our _subjects_ (for they were rather noisy, and smelled pretty
strong of rancid fat), we had placed our tent about two hundred feet
away from their huts. While the rest had been pitching the tent, Wade
and Weymouth had constructed a rough arch of stones, and set our
spider in the top of it as we had previously arranged it.
"Ready for the seal!" said Wade.
"They've got seal-blubber about their huts; I saw some of the young
ones eating chunks of it," Donovan remarked.
Several of the men had come round where we were at work, and among
them the little dark chap who had tried to stab Kit. Wade went along
to him, and pointing to his own mouth, and then toward the mouths of
the rest of us, said, "_Pussay_" ("Seal"). But the fellow was still
sullen, and stared defiantly.
"Have to discipline him a little, I reckon," Kit muttered.
Again Wade pronounced the word _pussay_, pointing off toward their
huts.
"_Na-mick!_" exclaimed the Esquimau fractiously. "_Na-mick! Ik pee-o
nar-kut bok!_" swinging his arms. "_Ik pee-o askut ammee pussay!_"
"Any idea what he said?" Wade asked, turning to Kit.
"No: but it was a refusal; I know by his actions.--Donovan, there's
another job for you!"
Don went off a little to one side, and, working up toward him, made a
sudden lunge, and had him by the hair in a twinkling. Such a shaking
as the poor wretch got! Then, with a quick trip, Donovan laid him flat
on his back, and, jerking out his big knife, began strapping it
ominously on his boot-leg. Oh, how the terrified savage howled! Raed
turned away in disgust. After frightening him nearly into fits with
the knife, the stalwart sailor with a twitch threw him across his
knee, and applied the flat of the butcher-knife to the seat of his
seal-skin trousers with _reports_ that must have been distinctly
audible for a quarter of a mile. All the Huskies came rushing up,
screaming and gesticulating. The dogs barked. There was a general
uproar. After three or four dozen of these emphatic reminders of
arbitrary power, Donovan set the shrieking wretch on his feet, and,
still holding on to his hair, shouted in his face the word _pussay_ a
dozen times in a tone that might have been heard on the neighboring
islands. Kit and Wade and Weymouth all fell to shouting the same word;
catching the meaning of which, more than a dozen of the Huskies, men
and women, ran to their huts, and brought pieces of seal-blubber to
the amount of several hundred-weight. The little dark chap
disappeared, and we saw no more of him for two days.
"Now we want some eggs," said Kit. "What's the word for egg?"
"_Wau-ve_," Raed replied.
Wade then called _wau-ve_ several times to the crowd. They ran off
again, and in a few minutes returned with fifteen or twenty of the
razor-bill's eggs; and a party immediately set off toward the cliffs
for more.
"I admire their promptness," Kit observed, laughing.
"They are beginning to respect us," said Wade.
"But would it not have been far better to have come over here and
asked them kindly for what we wanted?" Raed demanded.
"No," said Kit; "for we should not have got it."
"I don't know about that," replied Raed.
"I know we shouldn't," said Wade. "We should have got a square
_na-mick_ to start with; and I am inclined to believe they would have
attacked us with their daggers and harpoons. Then we should have been
obliged to kill a lot of them in self-defence. As it is, we haven't
hurt anybody yet. A dose of spanks won't injure any of them, I'll
warrant."
"But this whole business is revolting,--to me, at least," Raed
continued.
"Oh, I guess you will stand it!" laughed Kit. "But, Raed, if I were
you, I wouldn't show quite so much of my righteous indignation. You
want your supper as well as the rest of us."
"No doubt."
"Well, honestly, old fellow, I could not see any better way to get it
for you."
"Well, I hoped never to eat a supper procured by slave-labor."
"You won't notice any great difference in the taste, I dare say,"
replied Wade.
Donovan was preparing splints from the old thwart, and covering them
with the blubber in the arch. Ten or a dozen of the Esquimaux were
looking on. When he struck a match on his sleeve, exclamations of
wonder broke out. Matches were a novelty with them. From their strange
looks, and glances toward each other, we concluded that they took us
to be either great saints, or devils; most likely the latter, from
the way we had previously deported ourselves. The eggs were fried, and
eaten with a sprinkling of salt. A fire of seal-blubber was probably a
very extravagant luxury in the eyes of our Husky subjects. They had no
fire while we were with them, save their flickering stone lamps. Yet
the use of cooked food seemed not to be wholly unknown among them. On
several occasions we saw them boiling, or at least parboiling, a duck
in a stone kettle over five or six of their lamps set together. They
often gave food cooked in this way to their young children, and in
cases where any of their number are sick. If wood were plenty, they
would doubtless soon come to relish it best; since it is undoubtedly
the scarcity of wood which has driven them to raw food.
Whatever we did,--in our cooking, eating, and in all our
movements,--we were sure of a curious and admiring crowd. There were,
in all, thirty-seven of the Esquimaux on the island,--nine men and
eleven women, adults: the remaining seventeen ranged from one to
eighteen years apparently. So far as we could learn, they kept little
or no record of their ages. One man, whom they called _Shug-la-wina_,
seemed to exercise a sort of authority over the rest; but whether it
was from any hereditary claim to power, or simply from the fact that
he was rather larger in stature than the others, was not very clear.
Another, the little dark chap whom Donovan had punished for his
snappishness, was almost continually slapping and cuffing the rest
about. His name was _Twee-gock_. Besides _Wutchee_ and _Wunchee_,
there were, of the girls, one named _Coonee_,--a very laughing little
creature,--and another called _Iglooee_ ("hut-keeper" or
"house-keeper"). Neither of these was so large nor so handsome as
_Wutchee_ or _Wunchee_. The last two were Kit and Wade's favorites.
They were quaint little creatures, just about four feet and a half in
height; chubby, and rather fleshy; and would have weighed rising a
hundred pounds, probably. Their faces were rather larger in proportion
than our American girls, rounder and flatter; noses inclined to the
pug order; eyes black, and pretty well drawn up at the inner corners;
cheek-bones rather high, though their flesh prevented them from
appearing disagreeably prominent; mouths large, showing large white
teeth; ears big enough to hear well; hair black, straight, and
occasionally pugged up behind; complexion swarthy, though, in their
case, tolerably clear; feet very small; and hands sizable. Add to this
description an ever-genial, pleased expression of countenance, with
considerable sprightliness of manner dashed with something like
_naïveté_; then picture them in trousers and jackets, with their
hoods, and those irresistibly comical "tails,"--and you have _Wutchee_
and _Wunchee_, the belles of our island kingdom.
After our supper of eggs, of which they soon brought as many as seven
or eight dozen, Raed proposed that we should take a look at the
interior of some of their huts. So, leaving the two sailors with Guard
on sentinel duty, we went along to the hut belonging to
_Shug-la-wina_, and by signs expressed our desire to go in. He pulled
aside the flap in front, and we stepped under. The tent-frame was of
small sticks of the yellow pine, with a straight ridge-pole. Over the
frame was thrown a covering of cured seal-skin or walrus-skin. A stone
lamp, suspended by seal-skin thongs, hung at the farther end. It was
burning feebly. The wick seemed to be of long fibers of moss. The lamp
itself was simply an open bowl hollowed out of a stone, about the size
of a two-quart measure. The oil was the fat of seals or walruses. On
one side there was a quantity of fox-skins and bear-skins thrown down
promiscuously. Upon these reclined _Shug-la-wina's_ wife _Took-la-pok_
and his daughter _Iglooee_. Kit made them a present of three pins
each. On the other side of the hut there was stowed a sledge, with
runners of bone firmly lashed together with thongs. On it was a stone
pot, hollowed, like the lamp, out of a large stone. Several harpoons
stood in the farther corner. A coil of thong lay on the sledge; also
two whips with short handles of bone, but exceedingly long
lashes,--not less than fifteen or twenty feet in length. There were
lying about half a dozen tusks of the walrus, and, on a low stone
shelf, a hundred-weight or more of seal-pork. We were turning to go
out, when Wade pointed to the end of a bow and the heads of two arrows
protruding from under the furs. Kit took them up; but _Shug-la-wina_
very gravely took them from his hands, and returned them to their
hiding-place. The bow was of some dark bone, I thought,--possibly
whalebone; the bow-string of sinew; and the arrows of wood, but
provided with rough iron heads. The sight of these iron heads
surprised us a little, as well as the discovery in another hut of an
English case-knife. That knife, doubtless, had a history. On going
out, Wade took up one of the bear-skins, and pointed off to our tent.
"_Abb_," replied the Esquimau, nodding.
We took it along with us. The other huts were much the same as
_Shug-la-wina's_. We got a bear-skin from each. Wutchee and Wunchee
gave us two. These skins, spread over a "shake-down" of moss, made us
a very comfortable bed.
By this time it was past ten o'clock; and, after arranging for regular
sentinel duty,--two hours in each watch,--we turned in on our
bear-skins, save Weymouth, who had the first watch. But we were
horribly disturbed by the incessant barking, growling, and fighting of
their dogs. Such a set of vicious, snarling curs do not exist in any
other quarter of the world, I hope. They were decidedly the most
troublesome of our new subjects. Guard could not stir out away from us
without being assaulted tooth and nail. Fights of from two to half a
dozen combatants were in progress all night; and not only that night,
but each succeeding night. Several times some one or other of the
Huskies would rush out from their huts, and lay about them with their
long whips, shouting "_Eigh, eigh, eigh!_" We could hear the whips
snap, followed by piteous yelps and long-drawn howls. Then there would
be silence for perhaps ten minutes: by that time another fight would
be in full blast.
"What, for thunder sake, do they keep so many dogs for?" growled
Donovan.
"To draw their sledges in winter," I heard Raed explaining to him....
[Seventeen pages, containing, as appears from the
chapter-head, an account of an Esquimau ball, a funeral, also
of _Wutchee's_ and _Wunchee's_ cookery, are here missing from
the manuscript. The young author is now absent with the party
in Brazil.--ED.]
Strange how these people can live without salt! They make no use of it
with their food; eat fresh seal-blubber, mainly, all their lives. No
wonder they look flabby! And yet they are a happy set; always
laughing, joking, and badgering each other. Very likely their joys are
not of a very high order: but I doubt whether civilization would make
them much happier; though, according to the theory of us civilized
folks, it ought to. They lead an easy life,--easy, in a savage way;
though breaking up dog-fights does keep them pretty tolerably busy.
To-day (Aug. 7) we had a perfect dog-war. Three or four of the
ravening, howling curs assaulted Guard under the very flap of our
tent. Donovan caught up a musket, and, running out, pinned one of them
down with the bayonet, and held him for some seconds. On letting him
up, the dog ran off howling, with the blood streaming out of him.
Instantly all the rest set after him, barking like furies. Round and
round the huts they went, all snarling and snapping at the wounded
one. Presently out rushed old _Shug-la-wina_ and _Twee-gock_ with
their whips, shouting "_Eigh, eigh!_" and laying about them. The ends
of the thongs cracked like pistol-shots. The hair and hide flew up
from the dogs' backs. As fast as one got a _crack_, he would leap up
and run off, licking at the spot. How the boys laughed!
"That's a savage weapon!" exclaimed Wade. "I should about as lief take
a shot from a revolver as one of those 'cracks' on my bare skin.
Moses, how it would sting!"
"I don't believe it would hurt through anybody's thick coat," Donovan
remarked.
"Humph! it would cut right through to a fellow's hide!" exclaimed Kit.
"Nonsense!"
"Bet you don't dare to let one of them crack at you!"
"I wouldn't let one of them snap at my back, for fear he would hit my
ears or hands instead; but I had just as lief let him crack at my leg
below my knee, under my boot-leg, as not."
"Agreed!"
Kit ran to get old _Shug-la-wina_ with his whip.
"Bet my musket against yours that you can't stand three cracks on your
boot-leg!" laughed Wade.
"I take it!" cried Donovan.
In a few minutes Kit came back with the old Esquimau and his whip.
Signs were made; and Donovan raised his foot on a rock, exposing his
boot-leg. The veteran Husky began to _yeh-yeh!_ He understood.
Standing off about twenty-five feet, he gathered the lash up; then,
swinging the handle around his head, let the long thong go circling
around him like a black snake. Faster and faster revolved the black
gyres,--twenty times, I have no doubt. Presently he fetched a snap.
The black thong shot out like lightning. _Thut!_ A bit of the leather
flew up, spinning in the air. Donovan caught away his leg with a
profane exclamation. We crowded round. There was a hole in the
boot-leg!
"Gracious!" exclaimed Weymouth.
Don jerked off his boot. On the calf of his leg there was a mark about
half an inch wide, and an inch or more in length, red as blood, and
rapidly puffing up.
"Have another?" demanded Wade.
"Not much! One will do for me!"
We naturally picked up a good many words of their language; though of
its structure--if it have any--we learned little. Other anxieties
occupied our minds so fully, that we were not very attentive scholars.
Like the Indians of our Territories, the Esquimaux seemed much
addicted to running a whole sentence into a single word, or what
sounded like it, of immense length. These sentence-words we could make
very little of. But of their detached words, standing for familiar
things, I add a vocabulary from such as I can now call to mind:--
Pillitay, Give. Give me something.
Igloo, A hut.
Igloo-ee, A hut-keeper.
Wau-ve, An egg.
Mickee, A dog.
Tuk-tuk, A reindeer.
Muck-tu, A caribou.
Tuck-tu, Seal-blubber.
Nenook, A bear.
Chymo, Trade; barter.
Eigh! Stop! Hold up! Get out!
Karrack, Wood.
Tyma, Good.
Mai, Good.
Negga-mai, Not good.
Na-mick, No.
Abb, Yes.
Singipok, Sleep.
Kayak, A canoe.
Coonee, A kiss.
Cobloo-nak, An Englishman.
Pee-o mee-wanga, I want.
Aunay, Far off.
Ye-meck, Water.
Hennelay, A woman.
We-we, A white goose.
Muck-mhameek, A knife.
Kolipsut, A lamp.
Pussay, A seal.
Awak, A walrus.
Ka-ka! Go 'long! St-'boy!
Oomiak, A large boat.
Oomiak-sook, A ship.
Kannau-weet-ameg, A dart.
Kina? What is it? What's that?
Twau-ve! Begone! Leave!