Mr. Hall had now, September twelfth, been out thirty-five days, and he determined to return to Rescue Harbor, hoping to find that the "George Henry" had returned from her whaling trip. This pleased the Esquimo, but they did not like his south-side route. Koojesse would, in spite of Mr. Hall, steer the boat toward the opposite side, and the rowers enjoyed the joke. At one time our explorer wished to stop and make further examination of a certain locality, but Koojesse was heading the boat northward. His captain urged him to stop, and he replied with savage sharpness, "You stop; I go!" Even the women rowers when alone with Mr. Hall set up an independent authority at one time, and it was only after considerable urging that they yielded to the white man. Once when Koojesse was acting contrary to orders, Mr. Hall turned upon him with tones of authority and a show of determination. He yielded, and five minutes afterward the whole Esquimo crew were as jovial as if nothing had occurred. Yet it was not quite certain that this was a safe course. The life of the lone white man was in their hands.
During this voyage Mr. Hall was treated without stint to the delights of one Esquimo practice. We have spoken of the wild songs of their incantations, rising often into a dismal howl. One of the crew, a woman, had a gift in this way, and when she ankooted the rest accompanied, or came in on the chorus. In this way they often made the night of their encampment hideous. One day the boat was gliding smoothly along under the steady strokes of the rowers. The unemployed were nestling down in their furs, dreamily musing, while the dreary expanse of sky and sea was profoundly still, save the distant screech of the sea-fowl, and the occasional bark of the seal. Suddenly the female enchanter commenced her mystical song. Her voice was shrill as a night-bird's, and varied by sharp and sudden cracks, like fourth-of-July firecrackers. The Esquimo crew came in on the chorus, and the rowers put forth at the same time a frantic energy, their eyes glaring and countenances fearfully distorted. The whole scene was intensely demoniac. The enchanters seemed intoxicated with their howlings, and continued them through the night and most of the two following days.
Only one incident more of a noticeable character occurred on this excursion. When one of their nightly encampments had just commenced a gold fever seized the Esquimo, and shook the little community as if they had been white folks. A huge lump of gold had been found! It was precisely the article for which the sovereign of England and her savans had sent here, three hundred years before, the sturdy Frobisher, with a fleet of empty ships. It was emphatically fool's gold.
Friday, September twenty-seventh, 1861, the explorers arrived at Rescue Harbor. The "George Henry" was already there. Her energetic officers and crew had toiled through all the season and taken nothing! The explorer and the ship's commander, after a warm supper, sat in the cabin talking over the incidents of their experience while separated until a late hour of the night. The whole community were jubilant at their return, as fears were indulged that the crazy craft had sunk with all its occupants.
Mr. Hall was not long in finding the tupic of his friends, Ebierbing and wife. When the wife of Tookoolito saw him she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears so great was her joy. While chatting with them, Mr. Hall heard the plaintive sound of an infant voice. Turning back the folds of Tookoolito's fur wrapper a little boy was seen only twenty-four days old, an only child.
October twentieth came, and the whalers had secured three whales—an encouraging success after a long failure. But her captain had not intended to stay another winter. His time was out, and so, nearly, were his provisions. But while Rescue Harbor was yet clear of ice, and he was getting ready to return, purposing to take with him the still enthusiastic explorer, the heavy "pack" was outside of the harbor in Davis Strait. It had come, an untimely, unwelcome voyager from the north. While the anxious whalemen were looking for a "lead" to open and permit them to sail homeward the Frosty King of the north waved his icy scepter, and Davis Strait was as unnavigable as the solid land. Another winter was spent in Rescue Harbor, and it was not until early in August, 1862, that the vessel was set free and spread her sails for home. This year, too, was diligently improved by Mr. Hall in explorations and the further study of the Esquimo language and character. He confidently expected to return, after a short stay in the United States, and carry out his proposed plan of explorations in King William's Land. He took home with him Ebierbing and Tookoolito, with their infant boy, Tuk-e-lik-e-ta. The dog Barbekark made one of the returning party.
They arrived in New London September thirteenth, 1862, after an absence of two years and three and a half months.