My Arctic journal: a year among ice-fields and Eskimos

by Josephine Diebitsch Peary

In order to avail ourselves of the breeze, we were obliged to cross the bay and then tack. When about half-way it was decided to run ashore and prepare lunch. As soon as the keel of the boat grated on the sand, Ikwa jumped out to make the bow-line fast, but he had hardly touched the ground before he gave utterance to a cry of surprise, and pointed to footprints in the sand. In a moment we were all excitement. The footprints were those of two persons walking in the direction of Redcliffe. What a peculiar sensation it is to find signs of human beings in a place where you believe yourself and party to be the only inhabitants! After examining them carefully, Ikwa said Gibson and Verhoeff had passed down the beach that morning. This worried Mr. Peary, for the supposition was that something must have happened to one of the party, and the other two were bringing him to Redcliffe. He was reassured, however, in a few minutes; for on following the footprints a little distance, I found the prints of all three of the boys, and we knew that the inland ice-party had returned. Knowing that they would make themselves comfortable at the house, Mr. Peary decided to keep on to the hunting-grounds, which we reached in the early afternoon. During our three days’ stay in this lovely valley, Matt and Ikwa bagged nine deer; I myself went hunting once or twice, but without success. Most of my time was devoted to taking photographs of the glaciers in the vicinity, and keeping camp. The sand along the shore was too deep and the hills were too steep for Mr. Peary to take long walks in any direction, and he was glad to have company in camp.

On Monday we loaded our boat with the trophies of the chase, and sailed for home. When within three and a half miles of the house, we saw Astrup and Verhoeff coming up the beach, and we immediately hailed them, and pulled for the shore. They got into the boat, and during our sail home Astrup told of the continued storm on the ice-cap; how the deep snow had prevented their making more than one or one and a half miles per day; that Verhoeff had frozen his face, and that they had then decided to return to Redcliffe, report the condition of the traveling, and see if Mr. Peary wished them to keep on. After reaching Redcliffe, Mr. Peary gave the inland ice-party a few days’ rest, and then sent them in the “Faith,” our largest whale-boat, back to the head of McCormick Bay to bring home their equipment and place all the provisions in a cache which would be easily accessible. Gibson and Verhoeff were to put in two or three days hunting deer, while Astrup was to make a careful examination of the cliffs and glaciers to ascertain the most practicable route to the ice-cap with dogs and sledges. They returned in four days, and we immediately began work changing the equipment to make it suitable for two persons instead of three, and dried out the sleeping-bags thoroughly. Three days afterward, September 22, Astrup and Gibson again set out for the inland ice.

Walrus on Ice-cake.—Off Herbert Island.

Wednesday, September 23. This morning at 9.30 Mr. Peary, Matt, Dr. Cook, Ikwa, and myself started in the “Mary Peary” for a trip up Inglefield Gulf. There was not a breath of air stirring, and the boys had to row from the start. Before we had gone a mile, several burgomasters flew over our heads, and we next came upon a flock of eiders, but did not get within gunshot. When just off Cape Cleveland, we caught sight of several walrus in the middle of the bay, and made for them. A number of shots were fired, and some of the animals were wounded; but as Ikwa said we should be sure to find “amis-su-ar” (plenty) “awick” in the gulf, we did not wait for them to come again to the surface. After a two hours’ rest we proceeded up the gulf, but were stopped by the heavy new ice, which we could almost see forming in our wake. It being certain that we could not make further progress by the boat, Mr. Peary decided to have a walrus-hunt for the purpose of obtaining ivory. We could see the walrus in every direction, and headed the boat for a cake of ice with about fifteen of the creatures asleep on it. The boys were told to pull for all they were worth until the order was given to stop. Mr. Peary then took his camera, and he became so absorbed in getting his photo just right that he forgot to give the order to stop until the boat was so near the cake of ice that before anything could be done she ran on it at least four feet, throwing her bow straight up into the air. The walrus, jumping into the water from under her, careened the boat to port until she shipped water, throwing Matt flat on his back; then with a jerk (which proved to come from an animal Ikwa had harpooned) she was righted, and we were skimming over the water, through the new ice, towed by the harpooned walrus. This performance lasted at least twenty minutes, during which time the boys kept up a constant volley at the walrus that besieged us on every side to revenge their wounded companions. There were at least two hundred and fifty around us at one time, and it seemed as if it would be impossible to keep the animals from attacking us; but by steady firing we managed to hold them at oar’s length. This kept me busy reloading the rifles. I thought it about an even chance whether I would be shot or drowned.

I cannot describe my feelings when these monsters surrounded us, their great tusks almost touching the boat, and the bullets whistling about my ears in every direction. Whenever a volley of shots greeted them, the whole bunch jumped into the air and then plunged under water, leaving us in doubt as to where they would reappear. If they should happen to come up under the boat, we should probably be the ones to take the plunge; this uncertainty was very exciting, especially as the brutes went down and came up in bunches, leaving us seventy-five or a hundred to fight while the rest plunged.

Ikwa had evidently never seen so many “awick” at one time, and became very much frightened, finally pounding the sides of the boat with his harpoon and yelling at the top of his voice, in which he was joined by Matt. When we finally got out of the turmoil we had four heads with tusks, and would have had more, but the bodies sank before we could secure them. As we could not proceed up the gulf in the boat, we camped about three miles southeast of Cape Cleveland. The boat was pulled up on a bit of sandy beach, and with the aid of the boat-hooks and a couple of tarpaulins we fixed up a very comfortable boat-tent.

Thursday, September 24. It was decided last night that Matt and Dr. Cook should set out on foot for “Nowdingyah’s,” an Eskimo camp of which we had been in search; so we had coffee early, and by eight o’clock the boys started off with their rifles and some pemmican.[^[2]] About ten o’clock the boys came in woefully tired, vowing that they had walked forty miles, and reported finding Nowdingyah’s camp, but all four igloos were deserted. Ikwa said that their owners were “pehter-ang-ito” (far away) hunting; these northern Eskimos are in the habit of leaving their settlements, to which they periodically return.

[2]. It may be of interest to my readers to know just what pemmican is. The best lean beef is cut in strips and dried until it can be pulverized, then it is mixed with an equal quantity of beef suet. To this mixture are added sugar and currants to suit the taste, and the whole is heated through until the suet has melted and mixed with the other ingredients, when it is poured into cans and hermetically sealed. It is only a modification of the old-fashioned way of preserving meat when whole families drove out on the prairies and hunted buffalo. As soon as shot the buffalo was skinned and the green skin sewed into a bag, into which the meat, after it had been sun-dried and mixed with the suet, was packed. As the skin dried and shrunk, it compressed the meat, which in this way was preserved indefinitely. Pemmican is not at all unpleasant to the taste, especially if eaten with cranberry jam.

Friday, September 25. Just before we left camp at eleven o’clock, an amusing incident occurred. Ikwa, who had been skirmishing for the past hour, returned in a jubilant frame of mind, and announced his discovery of a cached seal. He asked Mr. Peary if he might bring the seal to Redcliffe in the boat, saying it was the finest kind of eating for himself and family. We could not understand why this particular seal should be so much nicer than those he had at Redcliffe; but as he seemed very eager to have it, we gave him the desired permission, and off he started, saying that he would be back very soon. About half an hour later the air became filled with the most horrible stench it has ever been my misfortune to endure, and it grew worse and worse until at last we were forced to make an investigation. Going to the corner of the cliff, we came upon the Eskimo carrying upon his back an immense seal, which had every appearance of having been buried at least two years. Great fat maggots dropped from it at every step that Ikwa made, and the odor was really terrible. Mr. Peary told him that it was out of the question to put that thing in the boat; and, indeed, it was doubtful if we would not be obliged to hang the man himself overboard in order to disinfect and purify him. But this child of nature did not see the point, and was very angry at being obliged to leave his treasure. After he was through pouting, he told us that the more decayed the seal the finer the eating, and he could not understand why we should object. He thought the odor “pe-uh-di-och-soah” (very good).