Monday, April 4. About two o’clock this morning our expected visitors arrived, and reported that they had seen nothing of Gibson and Astrup, nor of Kyo and Keshu. The arrivals are Klayuh and her two children—the elder, Tooky, apparently a young lady (as she has her beau in tow), although they give her age as only twelve suns; and the younger, a girl of five or six suns—Tooky’s admirer, Kookoo, Klayuh’s stepmother, a widow of three months, with her small child on her back, and her beau Ahko. Not knowing that her husband was dead, and in order to say something to her when she came in my room, I asked her if the man accompanying her was her husband, when, to my surprise, she burst into tears and sobbed out that her husband was dead. I began to talk in a sympathetic manner, when she suddenly dried her eyes and interrupted me with, “Utchow, utchow, mikky sungwa Ahko wenia awanga” (wait, wait a little while, and Ahko will be my husband). This forenoon another couple arrived, both rather youthful in appearance, and the woman quite small; they too had seen nothing of the boys. Just as we were through with dinner Astrup came in and said Gibson was coming with Kyo and Keshu and eight dogs; in about an hour and a half they arrived. After dinner I helped Mr. Peary reload one of his cameras, and in this operation I could see how nervous he still is. For the first time since I have known him he has the blues, and pretty badly at that. He has lost confidence in himself, and is harder to nurse than after his accident on board of the “Kite.” However, he insisted on photographing and measuring all the new-comers, and this kept us up until nearly two o’clock—Mr. Peary photographing, the doctor measuring, and I recording. I saw that he was very much exhausted, and I gave him his salt-water sponge-bath under the blankets, after which he slept well, something he has not done of late.
Wednesday, April 6. Yesterday the sun was warm enough to melt the snow on top of the house, and I put my eider-down pillows out for an airing. To-day has been so lovely that the women took their sewing on top of the house, where they also took their babies, stripped them, and placed them on a deerskin, allowing the sun to beat upon them. The little ones crowed and seemed to enjoy it hugely. In company with Astrup and Annowkah Mr. Peary sledged across to Herbert Island to get some blubber for Annowkah’s family that had been cached there last summer. He got back at midnight and looked very tired, having walked at least twenty-five miles, but he is in better spirits, and I hope the trip will benefit him in spite of his fatigue. During his absence I thawed, scrubbed, cut up, and tried out twenty-five pounds of bacon, getting twelve pounds of clear fat; I also cut up and tried out four pounds of toodnoo (venison tallow), which gave me two and a half pounds of grease. This is to be utilized in the lunches for the advance party. It took me about eight hours to do all this.
Saturday, April 9. This morning we found the doctor down with the grippe. Poor fellow, I am afraid he will have a hard time of it. The boys have no consideration for the sick, and he is right out in the noise and turmoil all the time. At eleven A. M. Mr. Peary started with his six best dogs and Keshu for Herbert Island to bring back some seals cached there for dog-food. He rode the whole distance over, which, measured by the odometer, was 14.06 miles. During his absence I worked on canvas-bags for various instruments and on cording the sails intended for our sledges. At 11.30 P. M., it being daylight throughout the twenty-four hours, I started to meet Mr. Peary, but had only walked half a mile when I saw him coming. The day has been, as usual, fine; temperature ranging from –9° to –22°. We have now a team of ten good dogs, a very cheering sight for us. Mr. Peary feels confident that he will get more, and this means assured success on the inland ice.
CHAPTER XI
SLEDGE JOURNEY INTO INGLEFIELD GULF
The Start from Redcliffe—Our Team—Temporary Village on Northumberland Island—A Crazy Woman—A Never-to-be-forgotten Night in a Native Snow-igloo—From the Snow village to Keati—Across Whale Sound to Netchiolumy—An Eskimo Metropolis—Aged Dames—From Netchiolumy to Ittiblu—Midnight Glories—The Solitary Habitation at Ittiblu and its Inhabitants—My Coldest Sleep in Greenland—Nauyahleah, the Ancient Gossip—A Native Graveyard—From Ittiblu to the Head of Inglefield Gulf—Meeting with a Traveling-party.
Monday, April 18. Having completed our arrangements for a week’s exploration of Inglefield Gulf, we started from Redcliffe about noon with the large dog-sledge, drawn by six dogs and driven by Kyo.
The day was very bright, and the sun shone warm all the time. The traveling as far as Cape Cleveland was good, but then it began to grow heavy, and before we had gone half-way across there were places where the dogs sank in to their bellies and almost swam, while we sank down to our knees in a semi-slush; the sledges, however, went along nicely. Fortunately, there were only a few such places, and as we got near the west end of Herbert Island the ice became smoother and harder, and the dogs sped along, two of us riding at a time, and sometimes all three.
Our sledge reached the west end of Herbert Island at eight o’clock, and two hours later, having crossed over to Northumberland Island, we came upon a cantonment of four snow-igloos. These were occupied by families from different settlements, who congregated here to be near a patch of open water a short distance off, where they caught seal. The largest snow-igloo was occupied by Tahtara, his wife, his father and mother, and some small children. This was put at our disposal; another was occupied by Ikwa and family, together with Kyoshu and his son, while Myah and his wife were accommodated in a third. The mistress of the remaining igloo was making an awful noise and trying to come out of her habitation, while a man was holding her back and talking to her, but she screamed and struggled so long as we remained where she could see us. I asked Mané what was the nature of the trouble, and she told me that the woman was pi-blocto (mad).
As the wind was blowing fiercely and the air was thick with drifting snow, Mr. Peary urged me to come into the igloo, which I did, rather to please him than to get out of the storm. Now as long as I have been in this country I have never entered an Eskimo hut; hearing about the filth and vermin was quite enough for me. But Mr. Peary said the snow-house was much cleaner, etc., etc., and seeing that it really made him uncomfortable to have me stay outside, I yielded. Can I ever describe it? First I crawled through a hole and along a passage, about six feet, on my hands and knees; this was level with the snow outside. Then I came to a hole at the end of the passage and in the top of it, which seemed hardly large enough for me to get my head through, and through which I could see numberless legs. Mr. Peary called for me to come, so the legs moved to one side and I wedged myself into the aperture and climbed into a circular place about five feet high, the floor of which, all of snow, was about two feet higher than that of the tunnel. A platform one and a half feet above this floor, and perhaps four feet wide in the middle and two and a half feet at the sides, ran all around the walls of the igloo, except that part in which the aperture or door came up in the floor. The middle of this platform for about five feet was the bed, and it was covered with two or three tooktoo skins, which almost crawled away, they were so very much alive. On this bed sat Tahtara’s mother, tailor-fashion, with a child on her back; another woman, younger by far, and rather pretty, his wife; and two children, about six and eight years old; and on the edge, with his feet resting on a chunk of walrus, from which some hungry ones helped themselves whenever they wanted to, regardless of the fact that a number of feet had been wiped on it, and that it was not only frozen solid but perfectly raw, sat Tahtara himself, smiling and saying, “Yess, yess,” to everything that Mr. Peary said to him. Mr. Peary had also taken a seat on the edge of this bed, and the women immediately made room for me between them; but this was more than I could submit to, so, excusing myself by saying that my clothing was wet from the drifting snow and that I could not think of getting their bedding wet, I sat down, not without a shiver, on the edge beside Mr. Peary, selfishly keeping him between the half-naked women and myself.