"We shall want one of those kayaks to carry home," remarked Raed. "Captain, will you please bring up a couple of those long bars of iron and three or four yards of red flannel? We will see what can be done in the chymo line."
Capt. Mazard soon appeared with the iron and the flannel; at sight of which the exclamation of "Chymo!" and "Tyma!" ("Good!") were redoubled. Raed then took the articles, and, going to the side, pointed down to one of the canoes, then to the iron bars, and said chymo. At that some of them said "Tyma," and others "Negga-mai," with a shake of their heads; but when Raed pointed to both the iron and the flannel, undoubling it as he did so, they all cried "Tyma!" and one of them (the owner of the kayak, as it proved) came forward to take the things. Raed gave them to him. A line with a slip-noose was then dropped over the nose of the kayak, and it was pulled on board.
In plan it was much like our cedar "shells" used at regattas,—a narrow skiff about twenty-three feet in length by eighteen inches in width. At the centre there was a small round hole just large enough for one to sit with his legs under the seal-skin deck, which was bound tightly to a hoop encircling the hole. Indeed, the whole outside of this singular craft was of seal-skins, sewed together and drawn tight as a drum-head over a frame composed mainly of the rib-bones of the walrus. The double-bladed paddle was tied to the kayak with a long thong; as was also a harpoon, made of bones laid together, and wound over with a long thong of green seal-skin. The lance-blade at the point was of very white, fine ivory; probably that of the walrus. Attached to the harpoon was a very long coil of line, made also of braided seal-skin, and wound about a short, upright peg behind the hoop. We supposed that the paddle and the harpoon went with the kayak. But the owner did not see it in that light. As soon as it had been hauled on deck, he proceeded to untie the thongs, much to the amusement of the captain. As we wished these articles to go together, nothing remained but to drive a new bargain for them. Raed, therefore, took one of our large jack-knives from his pocket, and, opening it, pointed to the paddle, and again said chymo.
They all negga-mai-ed, giving us to understand that it wouldn't be a fair trade; in other words, that they couldn't afford it: and the owner of the paddle kept repeating the work karrack deprecatingly.
"What in the world does karrack mean?" Raed asked, turning to us.
Nobody knew.
"Karrack?" queried he.
"Karrack, karrack!" was the reply.
"Karrack, karrack, karrack!" they all cried, pointing to the paddle and also to the bulwarks.
"They mean wood!" exclaimed the captain. "Corliss, bring up two or three of those four-foot sticks such as we are using for firewood."