Truly the fish was not at all bad, and I secured a piece for my lunch the next day. It proved to be just the thing, as I could chew it while tramping along, and one does not need water to drink with it. The native next to me in the igloo showed me how to strip the skin from the piece of dried salmon and prepare it for eating. He held the skin side over the fire until it began to crinkle and writhe. The oil which it contains is thus melted and the dainty rendered more toothsome.
After our hunger was, with these native articles of food besides our own bread and corned beef, sufficiently subdued, we stretched out as far as possible in our limited space. Cox was soon asleep. We agreed that in order to make the thirty miles next day it would be necessary to start before daylight, as there was then a waning moon to light us a little. Cox was especially impressed with this idea, and went to sleep determined to wake up the minute the moon rose, which would be about five in the morning. He had scarcely been asleep ten minutes, and I had not dozed off yet, when he started up, and I had all I could do to persuade him that the night had hardly begun.
Later, and until we finally did start, he woke me several times and would go out and look for the moon, which he was sure was behind the schedule time. We could not see the trail until it did appear, so each time he would return and drop to sleep again. This crazy conduct on his part vexed me not a little, as I wanted to sleep, being prevented by other disturbances besides his own.
After we had eaten our supper and got settled down, the other people ate theirs, which consisted entirely of dried salmon. This was eaten raw, each mouthful being chewed for a long time. The young men say that this kind of diet is what makes the Kowak-mitts (natives of the Kowak valley) so strong. I must confess to the apparent truth of this statement, for the whole house knows it when an Eskimo enters; that is, if there hasn't been one around long enough to have allowed an airing. Even the pretty girls are so fishy that a tenderfoot in this land can scarcely endure their remote presence. The salmon is cured during the summer and kept on scaffolds, being brought down only as it is required for use. The old men soak it up in water a while before eating it.
Directly after their simple supper the natives began arranging themselves in their proper nooks in any place where there was room enough to lie down. The men and older women and all the children in the igloo wore nothing but skin pants, being entirely naked from the waist up. At night, however, they put on their skin parkas, as the temperature in the room falls quickly when the fire goes out. When all are ready, the woman of the household goes outside and covers up the smoke-hole in the top of the house with an old skin, and besides piles snow over it thickly so not a particle of cold can get in. The fire in the center of the room has meanwhile been allowed to burn down to a bed of coals, so there is no smoke or flame left. In returning the woman also tightly closes the doorway. If any air is getting in anywhere one can see the stream of dense vapor caused by the extremely cold outside air striking the warm, moist air of the interior. If the door is left the least bit ajar a stream of this vapor is seen flowing along the floor straight into the fire. If one's feet meet this current of cold they soon chill. After the coals are heaped together and all other preparations for the night completed, the light is extinguished and sleep reigns. For a while after the igloo has been closed the air seems extremely hot and stifling and the odors are terrific. In an hour or two the fire is dead and the air cools off.
My night's rest might have been quite sound but for certain disturbances. I had just dozed off after being aroused by Coxie, when one of the men began to sing some Eskimo ditty in a weird monotone. He would drone it through and stop, and I would just be dropping off to sleep when he would start it up again. He continued for fully half an hour, and I was so thoroughly tried by it that I could have choked the fellow. The natives all slept soundly and probably considered it a lullaby. Another time I was awakened by the old man next to me singing in a high, jerky voice. He got up, all the time singing, and went over to the old woman, who was saying something to him. Then followed a series of the most diabolical noises—hisses, swishes, grunts, groans, guttural rattles and so forth. It hardly seemed possible that some of these sounds could originate in a human throat, but as they were without intermission. I suppose they did. This was finally interrupted by a loud, ripping swish, as if something had been forcibly torn up. All was then quiet, and the old man returned and lay down next to me. I did not know but he would practice his incantations upon me next, but my fears were groundless. During the creepy performance it was pitch dark, and I could almost imagine we were about to be sacrificed in some heathen rite. I asked one of the young men what was the matter, and he told me that the woman had a pain in her stomach, probably from swallowing her salmon in too much haste, and the old man had cured her by driving the demon out. This practice is like that I have heard my father say existed among the Comanche Indians in the Southwest.
At last, after one of his frequent observations. Coxie reported that the moon was up. The candle was lighted and we soon had all our traps out of the igloo. Our mitts, scarfs, socks, etc., had been hung up to dry. The dryer one's clothes are, the warmer he keeps. Rain is not necessary to dampness either, perspiration every walking moment being free and persistent. We soon had the dogs hitched up, all but one, Nanuk, who caused us considerable delay by running off into the brush and hiding himself. Finally after several of the natives had helped, he was secured and our pack arranged.
The Departure.