WALKS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF OKAK.[ToC]
The word Okak signifies "the Tongue." The station is situated on a hilly island, which for nearly half the year is practically part of the mainland, for the broad straits are bridged by thick ice. The heights around our little settlement command fine views of the surrounding mountains and fjords. The island of Cape Mugford is one of the grandest objects in the barren landscape, and the Kaumajets, a noble range, stretch away to the north of it.
Thursday, August 30th.—Had an interesting walk over moorland in search of the site of Kivalek, one of the old heathen villages, from which the population of Okak was drawn. On a grassy plain we found the roofless remains of many turf huts. They are similar to the mounds near Hopedale, already described, but larger and more numerous. One cannot but view, with a sad interest, these remnants of the former abodes of pagans without hope and without God in the world. "Let them alone, they are very happy in their own religion." So some would tell us; but was it so here? Is it so where the true light has not yet shined into pagan darkness? No, here, as everywhere in heathenism, the works of the flesh were manifest. And these, as the Bible plainly tells us, and as missionary experience abundantly confirms, are "fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strifes, jealousies, wraths, factions, divisions, parties, envyings, drunkenness, revellings, and such like." But through the power of the Gospel old things have passed away. Heathen Kivalek is uninhabited, and though the flesh yet lusteth against the Spirit in the lives of the dwellers at Christian Okak, yet, thank God, the Spirit also lusteth against the flesh, and the fruits of the Spirit are manifest there, as at the other stations.
Tuesday, September 4th.—Before we had done breakfast the flag was flying at the mizen-gaff of the "Harmony," summoning her passengers to start for Ramah. We speedily packed our baggage, but the wind died away ere the anchor could be lifted, and we did not sail out of the bay till the next morning. So some of us utilized the interval for the ascent of the Sonnenkoppe, so called because it hides the sun from Okak for several weeks of the year. High on the hill was a pond, which superstitious natives believe to be inhabited by a sea-monster left there by the flood. A larger lake is named after our Irish missionary Bramagin. Arrived at the summit, a very wide prospect over innumerable mountains and blue sea, dotted with white icebergs, rewarded our climb. Far below us we could see the mission-house, centre of blessed influence, for the Eskimo village, divided into Lower Okak by the beach, and Upper Okak on the slope beyond. Strange to think that, with the exception of one settler family in Saeglek Bay, the nearest group of fixed human habitations is at Hebron, seventy miles to the north. Easier than the ascent was the descent, over rocks and stones, beautifully variegated mosses, and low vegetation changing its hue to a brilliant red as the autumn advances.
FROM OKAK TO RAMAH.[ToC]
Wednesday, September 5th.—About ten o'clock this morning a strong breeze sprang up, and we speedily left behind us the friendly red-roofed mission-house at Okak. When we entered the open sea and turned northwards we passed near a grounded iceberg, curiously hollowed out by the action of the waves. The seaward face of Cape Mugford is even grander than its aspect from the heights around Okak. It seems to be a perpendicular precipice of about 2000 feet, with white base, and a middle strata of black rocks surmounted by castellated cliffs. Presently the remarkably jagged peaks on the island of Nennoktuk came out from behind the nearer headland. There's a sail to the right of it! No, she is not another schooner; she is two-masted and square rigged, and therefore the "Gleaner," the only brigantine in these waters. So the two Moravian vessels pass one another within a mile or two, the "Gleaner" on her way southward from Hebron to Okak, whence she will take Mr. Bourquin home to Nain, the "Harmony" pursuing her northward course past Hebron to Ramah. The captains, who are consigns, exchange a salute by running up their flags, but the sea is too rough to put down a boat.
Thursday, September 6th.—We have had a rough night. This morning we are off Hebron, but twenty-five miles out to sea. We have just passed "the Watchman," an island which serves as a waymark for the entrance to that station. I asked the mate, who once spent a winter there, whether the missionaries or the Eskimoes could see us from the heights near it. He replied that there was no doubt of it, but that he had looked out in this direction from those hills, where no drop of water was visible, nothing but an illimitable plain of ice stretching far beyond where we are now sailing.