CHAPTER XXV
Monday, December l6.—Every one is busy preparing for Christmas. There's much blueing and starching of clothes. We were up early as we have started house-cleaning.
Tuesday, December l7.—The kitchen was whitewashed before breakfast, and the passage this afternoon.
This time of year it is necessary to water the garden every night, the ground dries so quickly. The children come and do it for us and weed and sweep.
The larder is not altogether a success. Though it has a fair amount of ventilation it is rather stuffy.
Here is a list of some books which were given to William on the whaler the other day: Plutarch's Lives of Alcibiades and Coriolanus; Trips to the Moon, by Lucian; Voyagers' Tales, by Richard Hakluyt; Areopagitica, by Milton; Lives of English Poets, Banquet of Plato, and the Light of Asia, by Sir E. Arnold. One would hardly expect to find such books on a whaler.
Friday, December 20.—We are sitting in our "parlour," which is bespattered with whitewash and its furniture covered with sheets and paper, and must resign ourselves to a day or two of this mode of living, as parts of the room will most likely have to be whitewashed again. We hope the wind will veer round to the west, so that the room may dry. At present a north wind is blowing, which makes the walls oozy with damp and the atmosphere very steamy. We get a good deal of this unpleasant wind at this time of the year, together with heavy mists at sea.
Christmas Eve.—I went up to the church and found Sam Swain and his girls decorating it, as last year, with willow branches and pink roses. A wreath had been made for the centre of the ceiling.
Christmas Day.—This morning there were twenty-four present at the Holy Communion. There were also services at 10:30 and 3 o'clock.
The Repettos and little Joe spent the evening with us.
Thursday, December 26.—We have had a restful day. Little Clara Swain had begged to come and stay with us, so today she came. At supper she began to shed a few tears, and wanted to go home to her mother. Later I took her home. When she got there she was rather ashamed and hid her face in the sofa all the time half laughing.
New Year's Eve.—A mild type of influenza is going the round, caught no doubt on a whaler. In the fo'c'sle of one a man was seen wrapped up in a blanket who was perhaps suffering from it.
I can imagine as I sit here the bells at home ringing out the old year. I earnestly hope this coming year we may be able to do more in helping the people "upward."
New Year's Day, 1908.—We were astir early and had service at 8:30.
New Year's Day is made as much of as Christmas Day in that the people wear their best clothes, keep holiday and have a special dinner. We have had a nice quiet day, digging, reading and sketching. Sketching, as may readily be imagined, is often done under difficulties.
Saturday, January 11.—The expected schooner is ever a subject of conversation with the elders. We are beginning to feel doubtful as to its coming. The people are very hopeful, always having the feeling that if one thing does not turn up another will.
Sunday, January 12.—I was taking a stroll this afternoon and in crossing a rivulet stepped on a stone which toppled over, and I fell in. My white serge skirt, which had just been washed, was caked with mud.
Wednesday, January 15.—We have had high winds the last day or two and last night had quite a gale, the wind coming in strong gusts all night long. The garden has suffered considerably. The children lament over the destruction and go round propping up plants of their own accord.
Sunday, January 19.—We have lost our last Cape canary through moulting; he was a beautiful singer. Yesterday afternoon we went some way up the mountain just above the settlement. We walked for some distance up the Goat Ridge, crossed a ravine to our left, and then got on to what is called the Pinnacle, where we had a view which was awe-inspiring. There lay before us two or three yawning chasms stretching away down the mountain side. I hardly liked to look at them. One was Hottentot Gulch, whose sides, here bare, there dotted with trees or ferns, went down sheer a thousand or more feet. When on higher ground and looking at the expanse of ocean one realizes more than ever how we are cut off from the rest of the world.
Tuesday, January 21.—It is Lizzie Rogers' sixth birthday. She was very anxious to bring a present, and went round to try to get half-a-dozen eggs. Not being able to procure these, she brought us some cooked meat for supper. After having a game I sent her home, but she appeared again when her mother brought the milk. I did not know till afterwards that she wanted to stay the night and that her mother had literally to drag her away, poor little thing. She has long black eyelashes, from under which she looks out at one with a shy trusting look which is quite charming.
[Illustration: OUR BATHING PLACE (LITTLE BEACH)]
We had Betty Cotton and three of her contemporaries in to tea to-day and had quite a recherché meal for them, chocolate mould and some dainty little scones. Most of the people are out of tea, so a cup of it is a treat to them. They stayed three hours, talking chiefly of old times and shipwrecks. One of their favourite stories is of a captain who lashed his wife and child to the rigging and then swam ashore through the breakers. But instead of remaining on the beach near the foundering ship so as to be at hand to help and rescue them he went off to the settlement five miles away and comfortably slept through the night, leaving the islanders to do the watching and rescuing. Our visitors always come in their best attire, and they like being invited into the inner parlour. Mrs. Martha Green went home and returned with a dozen and a half eggs.
Thursday, January 23.—The poor penguins that land on this shore to moult have but a short life, for the dogs hunt them out at once. The other day we rescued one from Rob, who was dragging it from a small cave. It ran back and Graham piled up large stones at the mouth so that no dog could get at it. Each morning on our way to bathe we had a look at it and could see its white breast close to the aperture. But alas! one morning we found the bird gone. A boy had broken down the wall and his dog had killed the penguin. While penguins are moulting they require no other food than that with which Nature has provided them in a store of oil from which they can draw.
Sunday, January 26.—The Repettos have been here this evening. They had some difficulty in getting in, for Rob saw them and took his stand on the doorstep, his hair bristling; they went round to the front and he ran round the other way to meet them. They are so kind to him he ought to have behaved better, but he does not approve of any one coming in the evening. We read aloud Mr. Peck's Diary, Two Years in Baffin Land in the Intelligencer, and they were much interested. They like coming and we are only too pleased to see them.
Tuesday, January 28.—I think every one is now giving up all hope of seeing the schooner.
To-day John Glass and his wife gave a dinner to the whole island in honour of their one-year-old son. Ellen and I went. Everything was excellently arranged. We began with stuffed meat which was really very well cooked, then followed open berry-tarts with twisted bars across, open apple-tarts, and berry-pudding served with cream.
Yesterday Bob Green took Graham for a long-promised outing to the Caves, a spot in the mountain just above Big Beach and about a third of the way up to the Base. At one point, considered very dangerous because if a step is missed there must be a deadly fall, he insisted on roping him. We watched them with much interest both going and returning, as they wound their way in and out.