Peter the Whaler

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Chapter Thirty Three.

We had been all so busy in building our house, and in bringing our stores from the ship and in stowing them away, that none of us had wandered a quarter of a mile from our location. The Esquimaux seemed perfectly to understand what we were about; and when they saw that our work was completed, they came with their sledges and made signs to us that they wished us to come and pay them a visit at their abodes.

By Andrew’s advice, five of us were to go first, and the remainder were to go on our return. Terence and I and David, and two other men, signified our willingness to accompany our new friends. I stepped into Ickmallick’s sledge, and the rest were accommodated in those of the others; and the dogs being told to get up and step out, off we set at a good rate along a valley in which the snow already laid pretty thickly. As there were no fields, or hedges and ditches, we were able to follow the most convenient track, though certainly not the shortest, for we twisted and turned among the hills for the sake of getting a level road so as to treble our distance, as we found afterwards that we could reach the spot to which we were bound almost as speedily on foot.

The Esquimaux location was on the shore of a little bay, opening on a deep fiord to the south. It was a sheltered and romantic spot; and in some respects, we at first thought, superior to the one we had chosen. As we turned round a point of rock we came in sight of a number of tents of some size, arranged along the shore at regular distances from each other. As we appeared, their inhabitants rushed out to meet us—men, women, and children—while the dogs, no insignificant part of the establishment, hurried up the hill to get out of our way, not liking our appearance, or perhaps their masters’ whips, which were used with no sparing hand.

We drove up to the tents in fine style, and were welcomed in the most cordial manner. These tents were supported by a pole of whalebone, about fourteen feet long, placed perpendicularly in the ground, with four or five feet projecting above the roof. The sides and roof were formed of the skins of seals sewed neatly together. The tents were about seventeen feet long, and at the entrance about seven feet wide, increasing towards the farther end, where the bed-places were situated, where they are about nine feet in width. The beds were formed of a shrubby plant strewed over about a third of the tent, and kept separate by pieces of bone laid across from side to side. The doors opened towards the south-west. They also were formed of a bone framework, with the skins stretched on them, and were made to overlap each other. The entrance to the tents was much the lowest part. The skins were pegged down to the ground with curved bits of bone, also parts of the whale; indeed, everything about the tents may be said to have been made of skin and bone, as in truth were all the articles we saw in the possession of our friends.

It was worthy of remark how well these people adapted their mode of living to the circumstances of the country, and how ingeniously they made use of the very few objects they had the means of obtaining. I thought to myself, suppose a civilised man, or indeed a whole army of civilised men, were to be placed in this region, not having been accustomed to whaling and sealing, as my companions were, every one of them would perish within a few hours, or days at the utmost; and these people, who are called savages, have contrived to supply themselves with all the conveniences and necessaries of life. We felt that had we not discovered the wreck, and afterwards fallen in with them, we might have fared very ill indeed.

When we got off the sledges, our new friends invited us to enter their tents. I went into Ickmallick’s, where he introduced me to his wife and children. She was young, and had a pleasant amiable expression of countenance, which made me feel quite at home. She was employed in cooking the family meal. Her fireplace was composed of a few stones in the corner of the tent, with a lamp of oil and moss in the centre; and over it was suspended a small stone vessel of an oblong shape, and larger at the top than the bottom, containing a mess of sea-horse flesh, with a quantity of thick gravy. The dinner was just ready; so all of us sitting round in a circle, with the dish in the centre, we set to. I had become in no ways particular, or I might not have relished my meal, for there was rather more blood and dirt in the mixture than might have been wished for; but some of the ribs were very palatable, though I should have preferred some bread and salt and potatoes with them.

I considered my appetite good; but Mr and Mrs Ickmallick and their interesting family distanced me far, and in a few minutes each of them had eaten more than would have served me for the whole day.

The dish out of which we were eating was made of whalebone, one piece being bent for the sides, and another flat piece being used for the bottom, and sewn so neatly together that it was perfectly water-tight. The knives they used were made of the tusk of the walrus, cut or ground sufficiently thin for the purpose, and retaining the original curve of the tusk.