CUNNING HUNTERS.
OUR sketch of Mr. Hall's Esquimo life brings us to the early summer of
1861. He had made many excursions in and about Frobisher and Field Bays
which we have not noted. Their results were mainly valuable for the
relics obtained of the visits here of the famous old explorer Frobisher,
nearly three hundred years ago. There were, too, he ascertained,
traditions among the natives of these visits, as well as that of Parry,
nearly fifty years before, which so well accorded with the known facts
as to show the reliability of such traditions.
An incident occurred during one of these excursions which illustrates
the deceitful effect of refraction in the northern atmosphere. He landed
on a headland in Frobisher Bay, and secured an enchanting view of land
and sea. Points of historic interest were under his eye, and nature was
clothed with a wild Arctic beauty. But an object of still more thrilling
interest comes in view. A steamer! Yes, there is her hull and
smoke-pipe, all very unmistakable! See, she tacks, now this way, then
that, working her way no doubt toward the land on which he stands.
Mr. Hall ran to the camp, and told the good news to Koojesse and
Ebierbing, his companions. His mind was fairly bewitched with visions of
news from civilization, from his country, and perhaps letters from his
dear ones of the family circle. Each shouldered his loaded gun, and
walked round to the point on the shore toward which the steamer was
coming. They would make a loud report with their guns, and _compel_
those on board to notice them. When they reached the spot there was no
steamer. The Esquimo looked with blank amazement, and turned inquiringly
toward Mr. Hall. Had she sailed away? No, that was impossible. It was
only that rock yonder, half buried in snow! There, it does even now look
like a steamer! Wait a while. No, it no more looks like a steamer than
it looks like a cow! It is a cruel "sell!"
It will be recollected that the "George Henry" had made her
winter-quarters in a little nook in Field Bay called Rescue Harbor. From
his home in her cabin Mr. Hall was going forth on his explorations. But
the whalers had made a "whaling depot" on a cape of Frobisher Bay, which
commanded a view of its waters and of the waters of Davis Strait. Here
they watched for whales, or made excursions after them. To this depot
Mr. Hall made an excursion with Koojesse about the middle of June. On
their way over the ice, Koojesse gave illustrations of two Esquimo
methods of taking seal that were very peculiar. The dogs scented the
seal and broke into a furious run, making the sledge "spin" over the
ice. Soon Koojesse perceived him lying with his head near his hole. On
the instant the dogs and their driver set up a vociferous, startling
yell. The seal lifted up his head, frightened almost out of his wits, so
that the dogs were within a few rods of him before he so far recovered
his senses as to plunge into his hole and escape.
Koojesse said that only young seals are so caught. In this case fright
had nearly cost the poor seal his life.
At another time Koojesse saw a seal sunning himself, and lying, as is
their habit, near his hole. The hunter stopped the sledge, took his gun,
and, keeping back the dogs, lay down and drew himself along upon his
breast, making at the same time a peculiar, plaintive sound, varied in
intonation. To this "seal talk," as the Esquimo term it, the animal
listens, and is charmed into a pleasant persuasion that some loving
friend is near. He looks, listens, and then lays his head languidly upon
the ice. So the wily hunter approaches within easy range, the rifle
cracks, and the fatal ball goes through the vitals of the confiding
seal. Thus seals, like men, sometimes die of alarm, and are sometimes
taken in the flatterer's snare.
Mr. Hall found the whale depot a busy place. Numerous tents of the white
men and Esquimo were grouped together, in the midst of which, on a
substantial flag-staff, the stars and stripes were waving. The Esquimo
and dogs proclaimed their welcome in their peculiar way, and the
officers and crew made the visitor feel at home.
The question soon discussed concerned a boat for Mr. Hall's journey to
King William's Land. Captain Buddington said seriously that the question
had been much on his mind, and had been anxiously considered, and his
painful conclusion was that he had no whale-boat adequate for the
undertaking. The boat made on purpose for that service, which had been
lost when the "Rescue" was wrecked, was the only one brought into those
waters which could convey him safely. To go in any other would be to
throw away his life. So Mr. Hall said heroically: "I will make the best
of my stay here, in explorations and study of the Esquimo traits and
language. Do you return to the States, get another suitable boat, and,
God willing, I will yet go to King William's Land."
Touching incidents of Innuit life were constantly passing before Mr.
Hall. Here is one. There was a young man, Etu, about twenty-five years
of age, whom our old acquaintance, Ugarng, had taken into his favor. Etu
had the misfortune to be born spotted all over his body, precisely like
the snow-white and black spotting of the skin of one species of seal.
His heathen parents seemed on this account to have loathed their child,
for, after enduring his presence a few years in the family, the father
carried him to an unfrequented barren island to die. But God, who cared
for the child Ishmael and the little Moses, watched over Etu. He caught
the sea-birds which flocked to the land _with his hands_--an
extraordinary exploit. The summer thus passed and winter came, and the
boy yet lived. It so happened--shall we not the rather say, God so
ordered--that a kayak of natives rowed that way. They were surprised
when they saw a boy alone on a drear island, and the child was
frightened at their presence. But when they made friendly signs he
rushed into their arms.
The boy returned to his people, but being shunned and slighted he became
discouraged and indolent. Such was his situation when Ugarng took him
into his family. One day Mr. Hall entered the tent of Ebierbing and
found there a girl thirteen years of age, Ookoodlear, weeping as though
her heart would break. She also was of Ugarng's family, but had been
staying with the kind Tookoolito, wife of Ebierbing. Her trouble was
that Ugarng was coming to take her away and make her the wife of Etu!
Marry a seal-spotted man! the thought was awful! Then, she was so young!
Ebierbing took with him a friend, and called upon Etu and told him the
dislike felt toward him of the girl. Poor Etu! Then Tookoolito agreed
with Ugarng to take charge of Ookoodlear, so the marriage was prevented.
Marriage contracts among the Esquimo are made by the parents or other
friends, often in the childhood of the parties. Those immediately
concerned seldom have any thing to do or say in the matter. Among the
Esquimo of Whale Sound the proposed bridegroom was sometimes required to
be able to carry off to his igloo, in spite of herself, his intended
bride. The resistance in such cases on the part of the woman is
supposed to depend upon circumstances.
There is no marriage ceremony. In these Esquimo communities the two
great events, marriage and death, transpire without special note. Among
the natives of the region we are now visiting the newborn child
generally first sees the light alone with its mother, and in an igloo
built expressly for her.
Late in July the ice broke up and liberated the "George Henry" from her
icy prison. The sailors returned on board, and she sailed away on a
whaling cruise. Mr. Hall was left alone with his Innuit friends. He had
planned a voyage of exploration in his whale-boat with a crew of them,
to be absent about two months. On his return, if he found the whalers in
those regions he would go to the States in one of them; if not, he would
remain in Esquimo life until their return.
Ebierbing and Tookoolito were of course to be of his party. But
Ebierbing was taken seriously sick and so was prevented from
accompanying him, much to his regret. His crew, as finally selected,
were Koojesse and wife, Charley (his Esquimo name is too long to write)
and his wife, Koodloo, and a widow, Suzhi, remarkable for her great size
and strength, weighing two hundred.
The party were off the ninth of August. They passed through Lupton
Channel, a narrow run of water connecting Field Bay with Frobisher Bay.
A white whale preceded them, leisurely keeping the lead, as if conscious
that there were no harpoons in the boat; perhaps he assumed his safety
from the presence of the women. The sea-fowl were abundant. The Esquimo,
to save ammunition, adopted one of their own amusing yet cruel ways of
capturing them. They rowed softly and swiftly to a cluster of them in
the water. Just as the birds were about to fly the whole crew set up a
most terrific yell, at the same time stamping and throwing their arms
about with wild gesticulations. Down go the frightened birds, diving,
instead of flying, to escape the enemy. The crew now seize their oars,
and the steerer guides the boat by the disturbed surface of the water to
the spot where they come up. The moment they show their heads the uproar
is renewed. Down go the birds again without taking breath. This course,
though exciting sport to the hunters, is soon death to the poor birds,
which, exhausted and finally drowned, are picked from the surface of the
water. One of the ducks taken in this way was a mother with a
fledgeling. As the parent gasped in its dying agony, the child would put
its little bill in her mouth for food, and then nestle down under her
for protection.
The explorers having entered Frobisher Bay, sailed west along its
northern shore. They camped at night on the land, and made slow progress
by day. The Esquimo were in no hurry, while Mr. Hall would make good
time to the extreme west of the bay and survey that line of coast, as
the waters had hitherto been deemed a strait. But his free and easy
companions were more disposed to have a good time than to add to
geographical knowledge. At one time Koojesse, taking up Mr. Hall's
glass, saw a bear some miles away on an island. Fresh duck was plenty on
board, and a chase after "_ninoo_" at the expense of time was
unnecessary. But it would be _fun_; that settled the matter. Away sped
the rickety old whale-boat, impelled by strong hands. Bruin soon snuffed
the strangers, stood and looked, then comprehending the danger, turned
and ran over to the other side of the island. Soon the boat was in sight
of him, and he plunged into the water. The Esquimo now adopted a part of
the game they had played so successfully on the ducks. They occasionally
made a sudden and deafening uproar. Ninoo would stop and turn round to
see what was the matter, and so time was gained by his pursuers. But he
made good speed for the main land, and after a while began so far to
comprehend the situation that no noise arrested his course. On he went
for dear life. The balls soon reached him and dyed his coat in crimson,
yet he halted not until one struck his head. This enraged him; he deemed
the play decidedly foul. He turned, showed his teeth, and this brought
the boat to a stand-still. The hunters did not care for a hand-to-paw
fight. The rifle settled the unequal conflict, and ninoo's body was
towed ashore.
The bladder of the bear was inflated, and with some other _charms_, put
on a staff to be elevated on the top of the tupic when the party
encamped, and in the bow of the boat when sailing. This insured good
luck according to Esquimo notions.
The explorers were, while in camp at one time, in want of oil for their
lamp. Koodloo found some strips of sea-blubber and carried it to Suzhi,
who was "in tuktoo"--that is, in bed. She sat up, rested upon her
elbows, put a dish before her, took the blubber, bit off pieces, chewed
it and sucked the oil out, and then spirted it out into the dish. In
this way she "milled" oil enough to fill two large lamps. This done she
lay down again and slept, with unwashen hands and face. There were no
white sheets to be soiled.