EASTWARD ALONG THE TUNDRA
By the next morning, April 7, we were ready to start on our way. Our clothes were all dried out and in order, our sledge was repaired, our dogs were rested and the dogs and ourselves had had a chance to eat heartily and at our leisure. Before we got away an old woman from one of the other arangas came over and asked us to go to her aranga. We found that she had a lot of dried deer fat or suet, which she considered a great delicacy. She offered us some, with sugar to eat with it, and then her married daughter gave us some tea. She had about eight lumps of sugar left from her winter’s stock. She made signs to ask me if I liked sugar. I said yes and took some with my tea. The way these Siberian Eskimo use their sugar is to take a sip or two of tea and then a bite of the sugar; they do not put the sugar in the tea and stir it up, but eat the sugar and wash it down with tea. The old lady also offered me a pair of deerskin mittens which were very acceptable. I gave her some needles suitable for sewing skins and she was very much pleased with them.
The morning was very bright and fine. We got away at ten o’clock with our four dogs and our sledge, and a native came along with us. He had very little on his sledge, which was small and light, and he rode a good deal. We walked as usual, not wearing our snowshoes where the snow was no deeper than it was along here. The going was pretty good. The sun was shining; there was no wind, but it was very cold. For a while our dogs kept up a good pace but they soon slowed down.
During the afternoon we passed two more arangas where we had some tea. All through the day I had the greatest difficulty in keeping my hands from being frozen; I cannot explain why. I had never had any trouble that way before but now it was only by making the most frantic efforts and keeping constantly alert that I was able to prevent their freezing. The temperature, I should guess, was between fifty and sixty below zero. We travelled along well all day and at sunset built our snow igloo. I was surprised to find that our companion knew nothing about cutting out snow blocks and that with the Siberian Eskimo building a snow igloo was evidently a lost art. On their travels from place to place along the coast they very seldom venture out unless the weather is fine, and they can always reach another aranga by the end of the day, so they have no need, I found, to build their own sleeping-place as we had been accustomed to do.
Our Eskimo had no dog food; he would get some at Cape North, he said. I still had some dog pemmican left; at his aranga he had fed our dogs so that night when I fed our dogs I gave some pemmican to his dog.
It was a great pleasure to sleep that night in our igloo. The air was not foul and close, as it had been in the aranga on the previous night, and we did not have the constant annoyance of coughing going on all around us. Our companion coughed a little when he first turned in but soon left off and we all fell asleep, not waking up until daylight.
The sky was overcast and the wind north when we broke camp at six o’clock the next morning. We could not see very far. As we proceeded along the tundra we found that it became narrower as we approached Cape North. Our Siberian companion was very kind and added his dog to the four still remaining to us. His sledge was hardly larger than a child’s sled in America and we carried it easily on our sledge. By travelling hard all day we found ourselves approaching the settlement at Cape North about sunset. We had made a good two days’ march in spite of the dubious weather and the extreme cold. Low temperatures were not exactly new to me but for some reason or other I felt the cold along the Siberian coast more acutely than anywhere else in all my Arctic work. There were stretches of shore line, when the wind swept unobstructed across the ice fields from the north, where I was particularly sensitive; I had no thermometer, but judging from the condition of the coal oil and comparing the general effect of the air upon my skin and its particular tendency to freeze my face and hands, I should say that the temperature was at least sixty below zero.
When we were crossing the smooth ice at the entrance to the small harbor at Cape North our guide pointed to one of the arangas on the opposite shore and made signs that we were to go there. It was nearly dark but we could see that there were eleven arangas altogether and we made our way towards the one which he pointed out. Presently we met some natives. Without hesitation they seized my arm and conducted me over to the aranga towards which we had been heading. Outside of the aranga awaiting my coming, was a very tall man, muffled up in furs. I had an idea that he was a white man so I asked, “Do you speak English?”
“Some little,” he replied, and unwrapped the furs somewhat from around his face; I saw that he was a Russian.
“One man he speak more English,” he added.