CHAPTER XXXIX.
ROUND FROBISHER BAY.
THE explorers found occasionally during their voyage encampments of natives. In these many incidents occurred illustrating Esquimo habits. At one place the women were busily employed on seal-skins, making women's boots. One of them was diligently sewing while her big boy stood at her breast nursing!
Before reaching the head of the bay Mr. Hall's party was joined by a boat load of Esquimo, and several women canoes. A beautiful river emptied into the bay here which abounded with salmon, which proved most excellent eating. Vegetation was abundant. The women brought Mr. Hall a good supply of berries, resembling, in size and color, blueberries. They were deemed a great luxury. Wolves barked and howled about the camp. The aurora danced and raced across the heavens in strange grandeur. The deer roamed about the rocky coast undisturbed except by the occasional visits of the Innuits.
Mr. Hall, having pretty thoroughly explored the head of the bay, purposed to return on the side opposite that on which he came. Here were hills covered with snow. It had no attractions for his Esquimo companions, and they muttered their discontent at the route. Ascending one of these hills, Mr. Hall planted on it, with much enthusiasm, a flag-staff from which floated the stripes and stars. On returning to the encampment he found his tent occupied by several Esquimo busily engaged in various items of work. One of the women having done him a favor he gave her some beads, asking her at the same time what she had done with those he had given her on a former occasion. She said she had given them to the Angekok for his services in her sickness. Mr. Hall went to a tin box and took out a copy of the Bible and held it up before the woman, saying, "This talks to me of heaven!" Instantly, as though a light from heaven had flashed upon them all, both men and women left their work, and springing to their feet looked at Mr. Hall. At first they seemed terrified; then a smile of joy came over their faces, and they said, "Tell us what it talks of heaven."
As well as he was able, with but a slight knowledge of their language, he unfolded to them the great truths of Revelation. When he paused one of his hearers pointed downward, inquiring if it talked of the grave, or perhaps meaning the place of the wicked. When he answered "Yes," they looked at each other with solemnity and surprise.
But an incident which occurred soon after showed that these Esquimo did not feel the presence of eternal things. A white whale had been seen and chased by the men and women. He escaped, and the men returned in bad humor. As one of the women was helping to unload the boat her husband threw a seal-hook at her with great force. She parried the blow, and it caught in her jacket. She calmly removed it, and continued at her work as if nothing had happened.
Esquimo men are generally the mildest, if not the most affectionate, of savages in their relation of husbands; yet in their fits of passion they throw any thing that is at hand at their wives, a hatchet, stone, knife, or spear, as they would at a dog.
At one time the Esquimo men all left Mr. Hall's boat on a hunt. He continued his voyage with the three women rowers. The boat was pleasantly gliding along, when in passing an island it fell into a current which rushed over a bed of slightly covered rocks with the rapidity of a mill-race, seething and whirling in its course. The women, though frightened, rowed with great vigor, Suzhi showing herself more than an ordinary man in the emergency. For some time the struggle was fearful and uncertain. To go with the current was certain death; to get out of it seemed impossible. At last slowly, steadily, they gained on the rushing current, and then the boat shot into a little cove in tranquil waters. They landed and rested six hours.
Mr. Hall had now, September twelfth, been out thirty-five days, and he determined to return to Rescue Harbor, hoping to find that the "George Henry" had returned from her whaling trip. This pleased the Esquimo, but they did not like his south-side route. Koojesse would, in spite of Mr. Hall, steer the boat toward the opposite side, and the rowers enjoyed the joke. At one time our explorer wished to stop and make further examination of a certain locality, but Koojesse was heading the boat northward. His captain urged him to stop, and he replied with savage sharpness, "You stop; I go!" Even the women rowers when alone with Mr. Hall set up an independent authority at one time, and it was only after considerable urging that they yielded to the white man. Once when Koojesse was acting contrary to orders, Mr. Hall turned upon him with tones of authority and a show of determination. He yielded, and five minutes afterward the whole Esquimo crew were as jovial as if nothing had occurred. Yet it was not quite certain that this was a safe course. The life of the lone white man was in their hands.
During this voyage Mr. Hall was treated without stint to the delights of one Esquimo practice. We have spoken of the wild songs of their incantations, rising often into a dismal howl. One of the crew, a woman, had a gift in this way, and when she ankooted the rest accompanied, or came in on the chorus. In this way they often made the night of their encampment hideous. One day the boat was gliding smoothly along under the steady strokes of the rowers. The unemployed were nestling down in their furs, dreamily musing, while the dreary expanse of sky and sea was profoundly still, save the distant screech of the sea-fowl, and the occasional bark of the seal. Suddenly the female enchanter commenced her mystical song. Her voice was shrill as a night-bird's, and varied by sharp and sudden cracks, like fourth-of-July firecrackers. The Esquimo crew came in on the chorus, and the rowers put forth at the same time a frantic energy, their eyes glaring and countenances fearfully distorted. The whole scene was intensely demoniac. The enchanters seemed intoxicated with their howlings, and continued them through the night and most of the two following days.
Only one incident more of a noticeable character occurred on this excursion. When one of their nightly encampments had just commenced a gold fever seized the Esquimo, and shook the little community as if they had been white folks. A huge lump of gold had been found! It was precisely the article for which the sovereign of England and her savans had sent here, three hundred years before, the sturdy Frobisher, with a fleet of empty ships. It was emphatically fool's gold.
Friday, September twenty-seventh, 1861, the explorers arrived at Rescue Harbor. The "George Henry" was already there. Her energetic officers and crew had toiled through all the season and taken nothing! The explorer and the ship's commander, after a warm supper, sat in the cabin talking over the incidents of their experience while separated until a late hour of the night. The whole community were jubilant at their return, as fears were indulged that the crazy craft had sunk with all its occupants.
Mr. Hall was not long in finding the tupic of his friends, Ebierbing and wife. When the wife of Tookoolito saw him she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears so great was her joy. While chatting with them, Mr. Hall heard the plaintive sound of an infant voice. Turning back the folds of Tookoolito's fur wrapper a little boy was seen only twenty-four days old, an only child.
October twentieth came, and the whalers had secured three whales—an encouraging success after a long failure. But her captain had not intended to stay another winter. His time was out, and so, nearly, were his provisions. But while Rescue Harbor was yet clear of ice, and he was getting ready to return, purposing to take with him the still enthusiastic explorer, the heavy "pack" was outside of the harbor in Davis Strait. It had come, an untimely, unwelcome voyager from the north. While the anxious whalemen were looking for a "lead" to open and permit them to sail homeward the Frosty King of the north waved his icy scepter, and Davis Strait was as unnavigable as the solid land. Another winter was spent in Rescue Harbor, and it was not until early in August, 1862, that the vessel was set free and spread her sails for home. This year, too, was diligently improved by Mr. Hall in explorations and the further study of the Esquimo language and character. He confidently expected to return, after a short stay in the United States, and carry out his proposed plan of explorations in King William's Land. He took home with him Ebierbing and Tookoolito, with their infant boy, Tuk-e-lik-e-ta. The dog Barbekark made one of the returning party.
They arrived in New London September thirteenth, 1862, after an absence of two years and three and a half months.