Upon our return to the Panther every boat was at once manned, and the hunters all set out for the cliffs. The day was calm and pleasantly warm, and at its close we were the richer by almost half a ton of birds, after which successful raid upon the feathered inhabitants of the cliffs we cast off from the iceberg, and steamed over to the little bay of Karsuk, where we found good anchorage with sandy bottom, and paid a visit to “Governor” Esac, who proved to be the only white person there.
The Government-house at Karsuk is of the uniform style of architecture that prevails throughout the village (and, indeed, throughout Greenland generally), and differs only from the others in its superior size, increased comfort, and greater ornamentation—that is to say, the vestibule is not so long as that of the others, and does not, therefore, accommodate so many snarling dogs and litters of puppies, the owner being rich enough to afford a separate shelter for those ordinary members of a Greenland family. Then this same vestibule is four instead of three feet high, and you run a correspondingly less risk of knocking your brains out as you go in. The interior—roof, floor and wall—is lined and covered with planed boards, which Esac has obtained from the Government stores at Upernavik.
The house has but one room, it is true, but then it is sixteen by twenty feet, while the native houses are only ten by twelve, and their walls are lined with seal-skins instead of boards, and the floor is covered with flat stones. As for the walls, they are all built alike, six feet high and four feet thick, of stones and turf. There is a roof of rough timbers and boards; then the whole, roof and walls, are covered with heavy sods, which grow green, and convert the hut into a sort of mound. At fifty yards you could hardly distinguish Esac’s house from the general green of the hill-side but for the Government stove-pipe which projects through the roof, and the smoke of Danish coal that comes from it, for it must be understood that this country produces no fuel save dried moss and blubber, of which the natives make, in an open dish of soap-stone, their only fire.
ESAC’S HUT.
Esac had made good use of the doctor’s prescription, for he seemed to be now entirely free from pain—at least he did not once mention it; but he pointed to an empty bottle with one hand, while extending the other to welcome us. Then he introduced us to his wife, and invited us to be seated, with immense decorum, and with a high appreciation of the rights of hospitality. Half the floor was raised a foot above the other half, and down we sat on this, along with the different members of his family, including a son recently married and his blushing bride—at least it is fair to suppose that she was doing what brides always do, as a matter of course, only she was too dark to allow the blushes to be visible. Along the back part of this raised place, or dais, there were piled up great bags of eider-down, which are spread out at night, and there the numerous family of Esac would bestow themselves to sleep, after such fashion and in such place as they found most suited to the taste and convenience. There being no partitions, the choice was limited only by the walls and certain claims of modesty, which drove the females all to one corner, and the males to the other.
Esac’s wife was a thorough-bred Esquimaux, and when we entered she was seated beside a lamp, over which hung a steaming kettle that gave forth the pleasing aroma of coffee.
This housewife was a woman worth knowing. She wore yellow boots of extraordinary length, seal-skin pantaloons, a Scotch plaid jacket lined with fawn-skin, and hair twisted into a top-knot after the native fashion. Altogether she looked neat and matronly; of course also after the native fashion. Esac’s approbation left no doubt on that score. “Mine frau!” said he, pointing to the lady of the yellow boots. “Mine frau—all same you speakum vife.” He had been on board many a whale-ship, and had, with the singular facility of the Danes everywhere, picked up a little English. Then he continued: “Very good vife she. Plenty vurks;” and with his right forefinger he counted this item number one off upon his left forefinger; “plenty good cooks” (finger number two); “plenty good coffee makum” (finger number three); “plenty sew” (finger number four); and then, after a pause, and dropping his fingers, evidently regarding them as of no further account, he threw back his head, sniffed the air, and said, triumphantly, and as if there was no use talking further, “No smell.”
But if Esac’s frau did not smell, the Government-house did, so that we remained only long enough to pat the babies, bestow some presents, and receive some in return, when we took to the open air for relief; not, however, until we had partaken of a really excellent cup of coffee of this estimable lady’s preparing—coffee being the universal and, besides the pipe, almost the only luxury of these Arctic wilds.
It is offered to you everywhere, in every hut and tent even of the lowest savage. It has, of course, only been in use since the Christians came there; but now it is a national beverage, and one of the principal articles used in trade. In the Upernavik district alone the annual consumption is about six thousand pounds among a total population of less than seven hundred souls—nearly ten pounds to each man, woman, and child. And every man, woman, and child has free access to the Government store-rooms, when they go provided with blubber, walrus or narwhal ivory, eider-down, or some other merchantable commodity; and in return he receives every needful article of civilized comfort and convenience, save and except only, as I have before observed in my relation of Julianashaab, the villainous “fire-water.” The exclusion of spirits from the Greenland natives is but one of many evidences of the paternal care which the Danish Government exercises over these children of nature. The whole system being devised with the view of making the natives useful subjects, instead of reducing them to dependents, and, while causing them to be taught Christian doctrines, inculcating at the same time the practice of Christian virtues in conformity therewith, a circumstance not so usual as to be unworthy of mention. It is thus that, finding no conflict between precept and example, the Greenlanders have embraced Christianity, with its churches and its schools, and present an exceptional example of the current of a savage nature being turned into the stream of modern civilization.