CHAPTER XV.

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS.

DURING the two days following the return of Petersen and Godfrey we spent our working hours in building a wall about our hut. It was made of frozen snow, sawed in blocks by our small saw. This wall served a double purpose, that of breaking the wind from our hut, and as a defense against the Esquimo. It gave our abode the appearance of a fort, and we called it Fort Desolation. John muttered: Better call it Fort Starvation! This was in fact no unfitting designation. Our food was nearly gone. Those who alone could keep us from starving were seeking our lives. A feeble, flickering light made the darkness of our hut visible. Darkness, and dampness, and destitution were within, and without were fears. We could not be blamed, perhaps, if the death which threatened us seemed more desirable than life. Yet we could not forget Him who had so often snatched us from the jaws of our enemies—cold, hunger, and savages—and we trusted him to again deliver us. And this he did, for the next day Kalutunah and another hunter appeared. They did not come as enemies, but as angel messengers of mercy from the All-Merciful!

The chief was at first shy, nor could he so far lay aside the cowardice of conscious guilt as to lay down for a moment his harpoon, at other times left at the hut door. He brought, to conciliate us, a goodly piece of walrus meat. After spending an hour with us he dashed out upon the ice on a moonlight hunt for bears.

Petersen spent the day in making knives for the Esquimo, in anticipation of restored friendship. With an old file he filed down some pieces of an iron hoop, punching rivet holes with the file, and whittling a handle from a fragment of the "Hope." Though the knife, when done, was not like one of "Rogers's best," it was no mean article for an Esquimo blubber and bear meat knife.

The next day four sledges and six Esquimo made us a call. One of them was our old friend the widow, with her bundle of birds under her arm.

They were all shy at first, showing a knowledge at least of the wrong intended us, but we soon made them feel at home. It was indeed for our interest to do so. They bartered gladly walrus, seal, bear, and bird meat, a hundred pounds in all. It made a goodly pile, enough for four days, but, alas! the duty of hospitality, which we could not wisely decline, compelled us to treat our guests with it, and they ate one third! In three hours they were off toward Netlik.

The next day an Esquimo man came from Northumberland Island; we had not seen him before, and he did not appear to have been in the council of the plotters against us. He sold us walrus meat, blubber, and fifty little sea fowl.

Our health absolutely demanding a more generous diet, we ate three full meals, such as we had not had since leaving the ship. Our new friend's name was Kingiktok—which is, by interpretation, a rock. Mr. Rock was a man of few words, and of very civil behavior. We fancied him, and courted his favor by a few presents for himself and wife. They were gifts well bestowed, for he at once opened his mouth in valuable and startling communications. He said that he and his brother Amalatok were the only two men in the tribe who were friendly to us. Amalatok was the man we met on Northumberland Island, who will be remembered as skinning a bird so adroitly, and offering us lumps of fat scraped from its breast-bone with his thumb nail.

Mr. Rock's talk run thus: He and this brother were in deadly hostility to Sipsu. The reason of this hostility was very curious. The brother's wife, whom we thought decidedly hag-like in her looks, was accounted a witch. Why she was so regarded was not stated. Now the law of custom with this people is that witches may be put to death by any one who will do it by stealth. She may be pounced upon from behind a hummock and a harpoon or any deadly weapon may deal the fatal blow in the back, but a face to face execution was not allowed. It was understood that Sipsu assumed the office of executioner, and was watching the favoring circumstances. On the other hand the husband, and his brother, Mr. Rock, watched with courage and vigilance in behalf of the accused, while she lacked neither in her own watching. Thus the family had no fraternal relations with the villagers, though visits were exchanged between them.

Concerning the conspiracy, Mr. Rock thus testified: Sipsu had for a long time counseled the tribe not to visit nor sell food to the white men, holding that they could not kill the bear, walrus, and seal, and would soon starve, and so all the coveted things would fall into Esquimo hands. Kalutunah, on the other hand, held that their "booms"—guns—could secure them any game, and that our poverty of food was owing to a dislike of work.

There had arisen, too, a jealousy about the presents we gave. Sipsu's let-alone policy caused his wife to complain that she only of the women was without even a needle. This drove him to a reluctant visit to us in which he got but little, so the matter was not bettered.

Besides this, the condition of apparent starvation, in which the visitors found us from time to time, finally gave popularity to Sipsu's position, and Kalutunah yielded to the older and stronger chief.

When Petersen and Godfrey arrived at Netlik, Kalutunah went fifty miles to inform Sipsu at his home of the good occasion offered to kill them. Sipsu was to lead the attack, and Kalutunah follow. The arrangement was as we have stated, but failed on account of Sipsu's fear of the "auleit"—pistol. Having failed, his chagrin and anger led to the hot pursuit, in which he intended to set the dogs upon our men. But this failed when he saw how near he must himself venture to the "boom."

This story agreed so well with what Petersen and Godfrey saw and suspected that we fully believed it.

Mr. Rock left us in the morning, and that evening eleven natives, one of whom was Kalutunah, called upon us on their way from Akbat to Netlik. The Angekok was full of talk and smiles. He gave us a quarter of a young bear, for which we gave him one of Petersen's hoop-iron knives. He was not pleased with it, for he had learned before the difference between iron and steel. He attempted to cut a piece of frozen liver with it and it bent. He then bent it in the form of a U, and threw it spitefully away, grunting, "No good." We satisfied him with a piece of wood to patch his sledge.

Among our guests were two widows having each a child. One of the little ones was stripped to the skin, and turned loose to root at liberty. It was three years old, and plainly the dirt upon its greasy skin had been accumulating just that length of time.

One of the hunters was attended by his wife and two children—a girl four, and boy seven years old.

The fat fires of the several families were soon in full blaze, which, added to the heat of nineteen persons, warmed our hut as it was never warmed before. The heat set the ceiling and walls dripping with the melted frost-work, and every thing was wet or made damp. Besides, the air became insufferable with bad odors. It was now Fort Misery.

But the frozen meat at which we had been nibbling was soon thrown aside for hot coffee, steaming stew, and thawed blubber. Strips of blubber varying from three inches to a foot in length and an inch thick circulate about the hut. Strips of bear and walrus also go round. These strips are seized with the fingers, the head is thrown back, and the mouth is opened, one end is thrust in a convenient distance, the teeth are closed, it is cut off at the lips, and the piece is swallowed quickly, with the least possible chewing, that dispatch may be made, and the process repeated. The seven-year-old boy stood against a post, astride a big chunk of walrus, naked to the waist, as all the guests were. He was sucking down in good style a strip of blubber, his face and hands besmeared with blood and fat, which ran in a purple stream off his chin, and from thence streamed over the shining skin below. Our disconsolate widow supped apart, as usual, on her supply of sea-fowls. Four, each about the size of a half-grown domestic hen, was all she appeared to be able to eat!

We all ate, and had enough. Then followed freedom of talk such as is wont to follow satisfied appetites, and jokes and songs went round. Godfrey amused the women and children with negro melodies, accompanied by a fancied banjo. Dr. Hayes and Kalutunah try to teach each other their languages. Bonsall looks on and helps. The chief is given "yes" and "no," and taught what Esquimo word they stand for. He tries to pronounce them, says "ee's" and "noe," and inquiringly says, "tyma?" (right?) Dr. Hayes nods, "tyma" with an encouraging smile, at which the chief laughs at the "doctee's" badly pronounced Esquimo.

They try to count, and the Angekok says "une" for one, strains hard at "too" for two, and fails utterly at the "th" in three.

The "doctee" tries the Esquimo one, gets patted on the back with "tyma! tyma!" accompanied with merry laughs. The chief tries again, gets prompted by punches in the ribs, and significant commendation in twitches of his left ear.

Having reached ten, the Esquimo numerals are exhausted. Sontag, with the help of Petersen, questions one of the hunters about his people's astronomy. The result in part is as follows, and is very curious.

The heavenly bodies are the spirits of deceased Esquimo, or of some of the lower animals. The sun and moon, are brother and sister. The stars we call "the dipper" are reindeer. The stars of "Orion's belt" are hunters who have lost their way. The "Pleiades" are a pack of dogs in pursuit of a bear. The aurora borealis is caused by the spirits at play with one another.

It has other teachings on the science of the heavens equally wise. But they are close observers of the movements of the stars. We went out at midnight to look after the dogs, and Petersen asked Kalutunah when they intended to go. He pointed to a star standing over Saunders Island, in the south. Passing his finger slowly around to the west he pointed at another star, saying, "When that star gets where the other is we will start."

Our guests at last lay down to sleep, but we could not lie down near them nor allow them our blankets; so we watched out the night.