We had neither book nor chart of any description in our possession, with which to divert or instruct our minds. We had nothing upon which to write any event or fact, except small pieces of copper, and a few stray leaves which we happened to find in the huts of the natives. Our time, as all must see, was spent comparatively in a most listless and unprofitable manner; it was simply the endurance of life, and the prolonged hope that another year, if we should live to see it, would bring to us the day of deliverance.
Captain Norton kept, by the aid of a piece of twine, in which he tied knots, an account of every day, from the time of the wreck until our rescue at East Cape, with the single exception of only one knot too many, which he supposed he must have added during the long night.
The only razor, which was a great favorite with the company, and which we frequently used to the best of our ability, without either soap or brush, was an ordinary jackknife. It was necessary to keep our beards trimmed within proper limits; otherwise our breath, even in the huts, and especially when exposed to the air outside, would reduce them to a mass of solid ice.
These two articles, viz., the twine and the knife, were about all the significant and expressive mementoes which we brought with us from our arctic quarters. These, however, were sufficient to bring most distinctly and vividly to our minds a painful episode in our ocean life.
The clothing with which we were furnished by the natives, and without which we must have perished, was composed of skins and furs. We dressed as the natives did. An observer could have seen no difference in this respect between us and them. Our shoes, pants, and a kind of jacket, and caps, were wholly of skins, with the hair inside, and then over these another dress, with the hair outside. Thus clothed, we were protected from the keen, piercing air—a protection secured to us which no other substitute could provide.
About the 1st of January, in the depth of winter, we began to perceive that nearly all the provisions we obtained from the wreck were about gone. The natives had shared with us in the several huts to a considerable extent in consuming what belonged to us. They were very fond of our flour, molasses, and bread. They wanted to eat what we ate, and when they could not get it by fair play, they would indulge in their natural propensity, and steal it.
What we greatly feared was now coming upon us. A new chapter in our history began to open. The food of the natives must henceforth be for our support. To their credit, however, be it said, there appeared no disposition on their part to confine us down to a mere pittance, while they themselves had their usual allowance. What they had was freely offered to us, and both parties fared about the same while food lasted. Their supply of provisions for the winter, so far as we could judge, was not large; but now the addition of thirty-three persons to their number soon diminished their usual stock.
Winters even in the arctic are variable, as we learned from the natives; some were very severe, and other less so. We ascertained that an entire settlement to the north of the one in which we lived, and north of the wreck, perished a few years before in consequence of the intense cold, and the want of provisions.
Some idea perhaps may be entertained by the reader of the principal kind of food the natives eat, and what we lived upon for months while with them.