KAYAK AND HARPOON.
WHEN Etu was only nine years old he began to go out upon the ocean,
fishing and shooting with his father. Of course he was allowed to go
on calm days only. Years of practice would be needed before he could
be trusted to manage his boat in winter storms, or risk his life in
seal hunting. When he was eleven years old, however, he had learned to
paddle very well, and, besides, he had grown to be such a big boy that
his father said:
"You must have a new kayak, Etu; your mother will help you make it. You
have outgrown the other, and it is not safe."
It was one of Etu's duties to watch for all the driftwood floating
in toward shore. Every piece is more precious to these people of
the north than we can imagine. They have no money, but if they could
express the value of the bits of driftwood in dollars and cents,
we would be amazed. Some of us, I fear, would feel like carrying a
shipload of lumber to Etu's people and making a fortune very easily.
When our little Eskimo wished to begin the making of his boat, he
went first to the family treasure house. Of course you can guess what
was stored there. Not diamonds and pearls, nor gold and silver; but
simply--driftwood.
Etu chose with much care the pieces from which to make a stout
framework for his boat. It was important that he should take light wood
that had not lost its strength by drifting about in the water too long.
He cut the strips with a bone knife and bound them into shape with
strong cords of seal sinew. The ends of the boat were sharply pointed.
His mother's work began now. She took the skins of seals which her
husband had just killed and scraped away all the scraps of blubber and
flesh left on the hides. Then, rolling them tightly together, she left
them for some days. When they were again unrolled, it was quite easy to
scrape off the hairs with a mussel shell. After this, the skins were
well washed in sea water.
A very important step must be taken next. The skins must be stretched.
Etu's first boat must be a fine one and there must be no wrinkles in
the covering. The safest way was to stretch them over the framework of
the boat itself. Then they would be sure to fit well. An Eskimo woman
feels very much ashamed if any part of the boat's covering is loose or
wrinkled. People will think she is a poor worker, and that would be a
sad disgrace.
How did Etu's mother manage to make the boat water-tight? It was done
through her careful sewing. She worked with her coarse bone needle, and
the sinews of seal and deer were the only thread; yet when the kayak
was finished, not a single drop of water could enter. It was a clever
piece of work.
Where was Etu to sit in this wonderful boat? The deck was entirely
covered excepting the small hole in the centre. The boy had measured
this hole with great care when he made the framework of the kayak.
It was just large enough for him to squeeze through. His feet and
legs must be underneath the deck, and his thighs should fill up the
hole exactly. Now you understand why the boy's father spoke of his
outgrowing the old boat.
Do you also see why there was no larger hole? Think for a moment of the
waters through which he must ride. Our rough seas would seem calm to
Etu. If the deck were not covered, the dashing waves would swamp his
boat almost instantly. His people had found this out for themselves; so
they cleverly planned a boat different from that of any other in the
world.
Etu made a stout paddle with two blades. It is a pleasure for his
mother and her friends to watch him use it. He is very skilful, and
now, at twelve years of age, he can make the kayak skim over the water
like the wind. How straight he always sits! He balances the boat
exactly and first bends the right blade into the water, then the left,
without seeming to work hard, either. And in some wonderful way, one
can hardly understand how, he speeds onward. No wonder it is such a
pleasure to watch him.
Etu is very proud of his paddle; not because he made it, but because
of the time his mother spent in decorating it. It is inlaid with bits
of stone and ivory set in a pretty pattern. Surely, his mother is a
fine worker. She has just made him a present of a new pair of gloves.
They are to be worn while he is out in his boat, and reach above his
elbows. They will protect his arms and keep them dry, even if the waves
sweep clear over him. But they are not like common gloves, for they are
embroidered in a fine pattern. She cut out bits of hide and dyed them
different colours. Then she sewed them together in a neat design on the
arm pieces of the gloves. Shouldn't you call that embroidery?
While Etu's boat was being made, his mother had a party. Perhaps it
would be better to call it a "sewing-bee." Etu was sent around to the
different women in the village. He told them his mother was ready to
sew the covering on his boat. Would they like to help her?
Now there is nothing Eskimo women like better than to come together
for a friendly chat. So the invitation was accepted, and one morning,
bright and early, a party of women could be seen gathered around the
sealskins. Their fingers worked swiftly, but I fear their tongues moved
still faster. There was a great deal of laughter, for they seemed to
have many funny stories to tell. And I don't believe there was a bit of
unkind gossip; at least, their faces didn't show it.
It was amusing to see how much their teeth were used. They were like
another hand to these Eskimo women, for, as they sewed, they held the
piece of skin in its place with their teeth. When the covering must be
stretched over this hard place or that edge, it was the teeth again
that gave the needed help. Etu knows one old woman whose teeth are worn
almost down to the gums. She must have worked very hard all the years
of her life. She must have sewed on many boat-coverings and made many
suits of clothes before this could have been done.
When Etu's kayak was finished, his mother invited the workers up to the
house, where they were treated to a dish of seal-blood soup and a pipe
of tobacco. It was a grand surprise. In the first place, the heated
blood of the seal is always a dainty; and then, they seldom had the
privilege of smoking tobacco. It was a great rarity, for it could only
be obtained through trade with the white people.
When night came, all were in great good humour as they left for their
own homes. But, as they stepped outdoors, what a beautiful sight met
their eyes! The northern lights were shooting across the heavens in
glorious colours. Have you never noticed on cold winter nights lines of
light shooting upward into the sky? It is always in the north that we
see them, and we wonder and exclaim as we look.
Your mother tells you, "It is the _Aurora Borealis_." It is not fully
known what causes the strange light. It is thought, however, to be
electricity.
In Etu's land the aurora is far more wonderful and beautiful than with
us. The visitors were used to such sights, yet they called to the boy
and his mother to come outdoors and look.
"The lights are brighter than I ever saw them in my life," exclaimed
one of the women. At first it seemed as though there were a great cloud
of light just above the horizon, but it suddenly changed till the
heavens appeared to be alive. The very air around the people quivered,
as long, bright lines shot upward across the sky. They changed so
quickly, it seemed as though a mighty power was directing them about,
now here, now there. It made one dizzy to watch them. Now there would
be streamers of green and red and blue darting from the sky-line way
to the very zenith. There they would meet in a purplish crown of glory.
Again the sky would change in its appearance, and a red light would
spread over all. It was so bright that the snow in every direction was
tinted a rosy colour.
"What makes it, mother?" whispered Etu. "Is it the work of good
spirits, or are evil ones trying to show us their power?"
"I do not know, my child," was the answer. "We are not wise, and cannot
understand these things. Come, let us go back into the house. The sight
makes me fearful."
Etu had many finishing touches to put on his boat after it was covered.
A wooden hoop must be fitted around the hole in which he was to sit.
Several thongs of seal hide must be fastened on the deck, under which
his spear and harpoon should rest while he paddled. Still other straps
were bound to the sides of the deck, for, unless the birds or seals
could be fastened to the boat in some way after they had been killed,
how could they be towed home?
Then Etu began to work on his harpoon. His father had to help him now,
for it needed skill and care to fit it exactly to the throwing-stick.
The Eskimos long ago found that the bow and arrow were not useful in
their narrow, dangerous boats. Only a one-handed weapon can be used in
such a place, so they invented the harpoon and the bird dart.
The harpoon is a long piece of wood pointed with bone or iron. It
is fastened into a handle of wood called a throwing-stick. A cord
of seal hide is attached to it at the other end. You should see our
stout little Etu riding the waves in his kayak, and balancing the
throwing-stick on his shoulder to send the harpoon flying straight to
the mark. But suppose the harpoon lodges fast in the seal's body; if
the hunter still holds the other end of the cord attached to it, the
creature in his fury may make such plunges as to drag the boat and all
down under the water and destroy them. Something else must be invented.
This was the buoy or float. So it was that Etu had to make a buoy to
complete his hunting outfit.
He took the skin of a young seal, from which his mother had scraped off
all the hairs, and tied up the holes made by the head and legs. Through
a small tube fastened in the skin he could blow up his queerly shaped
buoy to its fullest size.
Now the float was completed. Do you understand what help it would give?
If the float is attached to the other end of the line when the harpoon
is thrown, the hunter can let everything go. He does not need to have
any part fastened to the boat. For the float cannot sink, and will
show him where to follow the game, and where to throw next; yet he is
himself in no danger of being pulled after the animal.
Even now Etu would not be safe to go hunting in rough waters. He must
have a special coat prepared. This, again, was his mother's work. The
skin of the seal was used after all the hair was removed. The jacket
was made to fit closely over his other garments. It had a hood to be
drawn tightly over his head, long sleeves, and drawing-strings around
the neck and lower edge.
When Etu gets into his boat he must fit his jacket around the hoop of
the sitting-hole, and draw the cord tightly. And now he seems a part of
the boat itself. No water can enter, and although the waves may dash
completely over him he will keep dry, and the boat will not sink.
No boy could be happier than Etu was when his outfit was complete. He
ran to meet his father to tell him the joyful news. Now he could be
looked upon as a man, no longer a child. He would hereafter be allowed
to take part in the dangers of his father's life. He was very glad.
This happy, good-natured boy, who disliked to say a cross word to any
one, who would not fight with other boys, was certainly no coward. For
his heart was set upon war,--not war with his fellows, but war with the
winds and waves, and the powerful creatures of sea and land. He was
ready for battle. Time would show that courage was not wanting when he
came face to face with danger.