CHAPTER XXIX.
THE WINTER HOME.
ONE more effort, after the repairs were finished, was made to push through the ice-floe of Smith's Sound. This resulting in failure, it was plainly impossible to get farther north. The vessel was brought into Etah Bay again, a harbor found eight miles north-east of Cape Alexander, and eighty by the coast from the harbor of the "Advance," though only twenty in a straight line, and preparations were at once begun for winter. Peter, the Esquimo dog-driver, and Hans were appointed a hunting party. Sontag, the astronomer, with three assistants, was mainly engaged in scientific observations and experiments. There was work for all the rest. Some were engaged in unloading the cargo and lifting it by a derrick to a terrace on the shore, far above the highest tide, where a storehouse was made for it. The hold of the schooner was cleared, scrubbed, and white-washed, a stove set up, and made a home for the sailors. The sails and yards were "sent down," the upper deck roofed in, making a house eight feet high at the ridge, and six and a half at the sides.
The crew moved into their new quarters on the first of October. The event was celebrated by a holiday dinner. There was joy on shipboard; thankful for escapes granted by the great Protector, trustful for the future, and, greatly encouraged by present blessings, none were unhappy. The hunters were very successful, bringing in every day game of the best kind, and in great abundance. A dozen reindeer were suspended from the shrouds, and clusters of rabbits and foxes were hung in the rigging; besides these, deposits of reindeer were made in various directions. The hard-working men ate heartily of the relishing fresh food, and laughed to scorn the scurvy. They called the place of their winter quarters Port Foulke.
When the floe became frozen, the sledges were put in readiness for the dog-teams. The dogs having been well fed, were in fine condition.
Blocks of ice were used to make a wall about the vessel, from the floe to the deck, between which and her sides the snow was crowded, making a solid defense against the cold.
On the fifteenth of October the sun bade them farewell for four months, and they anticipated the coming darkness under circumstances certainly much better than had been often granted to arctic sojourners.
As there was yet a long twilight, dog-trips were very exhilarating. Dr. Hayes once rode behind his dogs twelve measured miles in an hour and one minute, without a moment's halt. Sontag and the captain raced their teams, the captain beating, as was becoming, by four minutes.
The dogs were made to know their masters—a knowledge quite necessary for the good of all. Jensen observed that one of his team was getting rebellious. "You see dat beast," he said. "I takes a piece out of his ear." The long lash unrolls, the sinewy snapper on its tip touches the tip of the dog's ear, and takes out a piece as neatly as a sharp knife would have done.
The same day Jensen's skill at dog driving was put to a severe test. A fox crossed their path. Up went their tails, curling over their backs, their short ears pricked forward, and away they went in full chase. In such a case woe be to the driver who cannot take a piece of flesh out of any dog in the team at each snap of his merciless whip. Jensen was usually master of such a situation, but it so happened that a strong wind blew directly in the face of the team and carried the lash back before it reached its victim. Missing its terrible bite, the dogs became for a while unmanageable and raced after the fox at full speed. To make matters worse, treacherous ice lay just ahead. The dogs were already on the heels of the fox, and about to make a meal of him, when Jensen regained full control of his whip. It stung severely, now this one and then that. Their tails dropped, their ears drooped, and they paused and obeyed their master. But they were greatly provoked at the loss of the game, and at the harsh subjection, and, with characteristic amiability, they commenced to snap at and bite each other. Jensen jumped from the sledge and laid the whip-stock on them, knocking them to the right and left, until, it is presumed, made very loving by the process, they went about their assigned business.
Parties of the explorers were out nearly every day, hunting, or pursuing the scientific inquiries.
Knorr, the secretary of the commander, was off with Hans. He had his adventure to talk about on his return. He wounded in the valley a reindeer, which hobbled on three legs up a steep hill. The young hunter followed, and, getting within easy range, brought it down by a well-aimed shot. The deer being in a line with Knorr, came sliding down the hill, and, knocking against him, both went tumbling down together. Fortunately he carried no broken bones, but only bruises to the vessel as mementoes of his deer hunt.
Sontag, on the same day, had his perilous incident. He had climbed to the top of a glacier by cutting steps in the ice. Across the ice was a crack, bridged over with thin ice, but entirely concealed by it. Stepping on this he broke through and fell into the chasm; fortunately it was a narrow one, and the barometer which he carried, crossing the creek, broke the fall and probably saved his life. On what a slender thread hangs this mortal existence!
During this sledging season Dr. Hayes visited the homes of our old acquaintance at Etah, which was only four miles from the schooner; but they were deserted. Near the huts was a splendid buck, busily engaged in pawing up and eating the moss from under the snow. He seemed so unsuspecting, and withal so honestly engaged, that the doctor, though he had crept on the leeward side, within easy range, was reluctant to fire. Twice he aimed, and twice dropped his gun from its level. Bringing it to sight the third time he fired, and the ball went crashing through the noble animal. We hear nothing of compunction in eating him on the part of any on shipboard, and probably the pitying reader would have had none.
Our old friend Hans does not appear so favorably in the present narrative as he did in that of Dr. Kane. His five years of chosen exile among his purely heathen countrymen does not seem to have left many traces of his Christian education. Some allowance, however, must be made for a difference of estimate of his character by his former and present commander. In Dr. Hayes's judgment, "he is a type of the worst phase of the Esquimo character."
Hans's domestic relations are represented as not of the most happy kind. His wife's name is Merkut, but is known to the sailors as "Mrs. Hans." She passes for a "beauty," as Esquimo beauty goes; has a flush of red on rather a fair cheek when, exceptionally, she uses soap and water enough for it to be seen through the usual coating of dirt. Their baby, ten months' old, bears the pleasant name of Pingasuk—"Pretty One." Hans has a household of his own. He pitched a tent, when the schooner went into winter-quarters, under the roof of the upper deck. The Esquimo Marcus and Jacob make a part of his family. Here, wrapped in their furs, where they choose to be, they huddle together, warm "as fleas in a rug," though the temperature is seldom higher than about the freezing point. Little "Pretty One" creeps out of the tent about the deck, having for covering only the ten months' accumulation of grease and dirt, not unfrequently accompanied by its mother, who on such occasion is guiltless of "costly array," or much of any whatever.
Hans's gentlemen lodgers were taken on board as dog-drivers, but they seemed to have been of no possible use except to give occasion for the mirthful jokes of the sailors.
Peter, chief dog manager, a converted Esquimo, brother to Jacob, gave his commander excellent satisfaction and stood high in his esteem. He was skillful, industrious, and trustworthy. Between him and Hans an intense jealousy existed. Hans had, under Dr. Kane, no rival in his sphere. Peter was now, at least, a peer, and so the glory of his exaltation from Esquimo hut-life was greatly eclipsed. His master even preferred Peter before him; but Prof. Sontag clung, with a little of the Dr. Kane partiality, to the favorite of the former voyage.
Hans had no reason, however, to complain of the consideration shown him by his chief. At one time he gave him, to quiet his jealousy, a new suit of clothes, with the very reddest of flannel shirts. In these he appeared at the Sunday inspection and religious service, quite as elated at his personal adornment, though probably not more so, as the "fine gents" of our home Sabbath assemblies.