ESKIMO SLEDGE AND TEAM.
We may follow him on his route, and ascertain the use he makes of these appliances. When he grows thirsty, he halts; scrapes away the snow until he lays bare the solid ice beneath; and painfully scoops in it a small cavity. Next, he fetches a block of fresh-water ice from a neighbouring berg, lights his lamp, and, using the blubber for fuel, proceeds to place the block on the edge of the cavity. As it slowly thaws, the water trickles down into the hole; and when the Eskimo thinks the quantity collected is sufficient to quench his thirst, he removes the rude apparatus, and, stooping down, drinks the soot-stained fluid. If he feels hungry, he breaks off a few chips from his lump of frozen walrus-beef, cuts a few slices from the blubber, and enjoys his unsatisfactory meal. The inhabitant of the Arctic desert knows nothing of epicurean tastes; and if he did, he has no means of gratifying them.
To return to the equipment. The hunter carried with him an extra pair of boots, another of dog-skin stockings, and another of mittens, to be used in case he should be unfortunate enough to get on thin ice, and the ice should break through.
The entire equipment being placed upon the sledge, he threw over them a piece of bear-skin, which was doubled, so that, when opened, it would be large enough to wrap about his body and protect it from the snow, if he wished to lie down and rest. Then he drew forth a long line, fastened an end of it through a hole in the fore part of one of the runners, ran it across diagonally to the opposite runner, passed it through a hole there, and so continued, to and fro, from side to side, until he reached the other end of the sledge. There he made fast the line, and thus the cargo was secured against all risk of loss from an upset. Next he hung to one upstander a coil of heavy line, and to the other a lighter coil, tying them fast with a small string. The former was his harpoon-line for catching walrus; the latter, for catching seal. His harpoon staff was made from the tusk of the narwhal; measured five feet in length, and two inches in diameter at one end, tapering to a point at the other.
All being ready, the team, consisting of seven dogs, was brought up. The harness was of a very primitive description. It consisted of two doubled strips of bear-skin, one of which was placed on either side of the animal’s body, the two being fastened together on the top of the neck and at the breast, so as to form a collar. Thence they passed inside of the dog’s fore legs and up along his flanks to the tail, where the four ends meeting together were attached to a trace eighteen feet in length.
The trace was connected with the sledge by a line four feet long, of which one end was attached to each runner. And to the middle of the line a stout string was fastened, running-through bone rings at the ends of the traces, and secured by a slip-knot, easily untied—an arrangement designed with the view of ensuring safety in bear-hunting. The bear is hotly pursued until the sledge arrives within about fifty yards; the hunter then leans forward and slips the knot; the dogs, set loose from the sledge, quickly bring the brute to bay. If the knot gets fouled, serious accidents are not unlikely to occur. The hunter vainly endeavours to extricate it, and before he can draw his knife to cut it—supposing he is fortunate enough to have such an instrument—man, and dogs, and sledge are all among the bear’s legs, in a huddled and tangled heap, and at the mercy of the enraged monster.
The dogs were cold, and eager to start. In a moment they were yoked to the sledge; the hunter with his right hand threw out the coils of his long whip-lash, with his left he seized an upstander, and propelling the sledge a few paces, he uttered at the same moment the shrill starting-cry, “Ka! ka!—ka! ka!” which sent the dogs in a bound to their places, and away they dashed over the rugged ice. The hunter skilfully guided his sledge among the hummocks, moderating the impetuosity of his team with the nasal “Ay! ay!” which they perfectly understand. On reaching the smooth ice, he dropped upon the sledge, allowed his whip-lash to trail after him on the snow, shouted “Ka! ka!—ka! ka!” to his savage team, and disappeared in as wild a gallop as ever was taken by the demon huntsman of German legend!
It does not appear that the Eskimos have magistrates or laws, yet the utmost good order prevails in their communities, and quarrels are rare. When these do occur, one or other of the dissatisfied parties collects his little store, and migrates to a different settlement. The constitution of their society is rightly described as patriarchal, but the ruler does not seem to be elected: he attains his post by proving his possession of superior strength, address, and courage. As soon as his physical powers give way, or old age enfeebles his mind, he deposes himself, takes his seat in the oomiak, or woman’s boat, and is relegated by common consent to female companionship. Like all savage tribes, the Eskimos have their mystery-men, or angekoks, who resort to the usual deceptions to acquire and retain supremacy, swallowing knives, resorting to ventriloquial artifices, and conversing in a mysterious jargon, unintelligible to “the common herd.” They profess to hold intercourse with certain potent spirits, and to employ their agency in rewarding or punishing their dupes; and even the influence of the Christian missionaries has hardly rooted out the belief in the superstitions originated and fostered by these men.