Mr. Peary issued the Thanksgiving proclamation, and I have been busy getting things ready for the Thanksgiving dinner, which I told Matt I would prepare. Our cooking and baking is all done on oil-stoves; since I have only three ovens I baked my pies to-day, as I shall need all the stoves and ovens to-morrow. This forenoon I went out to our berg, accompanied by Mr. Peary and my two Newfoundland dogs, after a load of ice. It is rather a novel idea to me, chopping ice from the stately icebergs and melting it for drinking and cooking purposes.

Thursday, November 26. Thanksgiving day, and all work is suspended. Before lunch I went down to Cape Cleveland with Mr. Peary to see how much daylight still remains toward the south. The sky was tinged with rose near the southern horizon, and the moon was just coming up from behind Northumberland Island. How strange it is that while we have no sunlight whatever, we know that at home they are having day and night just as usual! The temperature was 12½° F. Dinner was served at 7 P. M. All the boys wore American clothing, and the room was draped with the Stars and Stripes.

CHAPTER VIII
ARCTIC FESTIVITIES

Creeping Toward the Winter Solstice—Household Economy—The Holidays—Christmas Amusements—Christmas Dinner to the Natives—New-Year Festivities—Moonlight Snow-shoe Tramps—Reception in the South Parlor.

Wednesday, December 2. Thanksgiving has come and gone. We had a very pleasant time, and enjoyed our dinner as much as any one at home. The only difference between day and night at Redcliffe is that during the day in addition to the bracket-lamps we have a large Rochester lamp burning. The huskies, as we continue to call the natives, have named it the “mickaniny sukinuk” (baby sun). Matt lights it at 8 A. M., and the officer on watch puts it out at 10 P. M. Mr. Peary has made a rule that no member of the party, unless ill, shall occupy his bunk between the hours of 8 A. M. and 7 P. M. He has also changed from the four-hour watches to twelve-hour watches; thus one man has the night watch for a whole week, and during this time sleeps in the daytime, and one man has the day watch. At the end of a week these two men are relieved by two others. The boys think they like this arrangement very much better. The native whom Ikwa brought back with him from Keati is named Mahoatchia, and Ikwa says that he and the one-eyed bear-hunter, Mekhtoshay, of Netchiolumy, exchange wives with each other every year. It is interesting to note that these two men are the only ones in the tribe who indulge in this practice, yet the other men seem to think it all right; but the women are not at all satisfied with this social arrangement.

OUR FRIENDS ABOUT REDCLIFFE.

If some of our dear ones at home could look down upon us now they would be surprised to find how comfortable and contented we are. Everybody is busily engaged in getting the equipment and clothing ready for the long spring sledge journey over the inland ice. Mr. Peary gives me an idea of what kind of garments he wants, and I am making experimental outfits out of canton flannel, which, when satisfactory, will be used as patterns by which the skins will be cut, thus avoiding the chance of wasting any of the valuable furs. While I am at work on this, two native women, M’gipsu, wife of Annowkah, with her baby on her back, and Tookymingwah, the twelve-year-old girl, are both sitting tailor-fashion on the floor, chewing deerskins. The native method of treating the skins of all animals intended for clothing, is first to rid them of as much of the fat as can be got off by scraping with a knife; then they are stretched as tight as possible, and allowed to become perfectly dry. After this they are taken by the women and chewed and sucked all over in order to get as much of the grease out as possible; then they are again dried and scraped with a dull implement so as to break the fibers, making the skins pliable. Chewing the skins is very hard on the women, and all of it is done by them; they cannot chew more than two deerskins per day, and are obliged to rest their jaws every other day.

Kyo, Ikwa’s brother, and Annowkah come in occasionally and scrape some of the skins after they have been chewed. Kyo especially tries to make himself useful. He presents rather a comical appearance in his bearskin nanookies and blue guernsey given him by one of the boys. Every time he sees any shavings or other trash on the floor he seizes the broom, made by him out of the wings of eider-ducks, and sweeps it up. Mr. Peary and the boys are carpentering from morning till night, and every day we assure one another that we do not mind the Arctic night at all; but I don’t think that any of us will object to seeing the sun again.

Thursday, December 10. A whole week has passed since I wrote in my journal. We have had one or two very disagreeable days, the wind making it too unpleasant for my daily walk.