# Life with the Esquimaux/Volume 2/Chapter 14

CHAPTER XIV.
Movements of the Ship's Company—Scarcity of Provisions—A Man's Feet frozen stiff—Amputation necessary—Dreadful Story of a Woman deserted—Attempt to Rescue her—The Attempt a Failure—A perilous Situation—A second Effort—The Woman found Dead—Ebierbing at a Seal-hole—Innuit Perseverance—The Author's Plans.
Early in January of 1862 the men of the ship's company divided themselves among the Innuits, trying the native life, such a course being necessary by reason of the shortness of our provisions on board. They were not steadily absent, however, but now and then returned to the ship, finding the privations of Innuit life harder to be borne than the scarcity on board the vessel. On the 2d of January Robert Smith went with Annawa to Lincoln's Bay, and at the same time, Mate Lamb and one of the seamen started for the reindeer plains at the head of Field Bay. A few days before, a party of the men had gone to the Countess of Warwick's Sound. On the day just mentioned they all returned, with beds, bags, and baggage. They brought sad tales of want and suffering, owing to the short supply of provisions among their Innuit friends.
Ebierbing, on hearing of their return and the cause, said laughingly, "They be all same as small boys." The Innuits are certainly a very different people from white men. They submit to deprivation of food quite philosophically; to all appearance, it is the same to them whether they are abundantly supplied, or on the brink of starvation. No murmur escapes their lips; they preserve their calmness, and persevere till success rewards their exertions.
On January 4th Sterry and "Fluker" (William Ellard) left the ship for Jones's Cape, and on the 10th Robert Smith came back, having been unable to sustain the privation he ​was forced to endure any longer. On the 12th an Innuit boy, called "Bone Squash," arrived from the plains, bringing to Captain B—— the following letter:
"Captain—Sir: 'Shorty' (Ooksin) got one small deer to-day, and I send this to you for yourself, and hope that soon we may have the luck to send you more. They see quite a number of deer every day, but half the time their guns will not go. I hope that you are well, for I know that your mind is troubled, as I have heard that all of the men have come back to the ship. I saw three deer yesterday on the ice. We are quite hard up here now, for all the 'black skin' is gone, and I have only about ten pounds of whale meat left; but I shall not come to the ship, for I might as well die here as there, for all I know.—R. Lamb."
The above note presents in a truthful light the experiences of some of the ship's company.
On the night of the 12th January, at ten o'clock, the thermometer down to 72° below the freezing point, Fluker was brought to the ship by the Innuit Sharkey, with a sledge drawn by dogs. Fluker soon reported that he had frozen his great toe while going up to Jones's Cape, and that he thought it best to come back and have the black thing attended to. He went forward with such a light and springing step that it seemed impossible that his toe could be badly frozen. Soon after, he came down into the after-cabin, and sat down by the stove warming himself, and eating heartily. While taking his supper, he told us of the experiences of Sterry and himself. They left the ship, as was above stated, on January 4th, and were five days in getting to Jones's Cape. There they found abundant food, but he discovered that his toe was black, and he thought it best to return.
Captain B—— caused a poultice to be prepared, and then directed Fluker to pull off his boot; the poor fellow made several ineffectual efforts to do so, when the captain said, "Hold on, Fluker; let me pull for you." With considerable difficulty the boot and double stockings were taken off, when ​ Captain B—— suddenly exclaimed, "Fluker, your foot is frozen now as hard as ice!" In a moment the other foot was stripped of its gear, and that also was found to be frozen stiff. "Away, away with him from this fire! What are we thinking about! Ice-water and salt! I fear this man's feet are gone!" Such were the hurried exclamations of the captain, and all hands were at once engaged in endeavours to thaw and preserve the feet of the unfortunate Fluker. The sequel may be given in a word: on the 17th Captain B—— was obliged to amputate all the poor man's toes, performing the operation skilfully with instruments improvised for the emergency; some days after it became necessary to take off another portion of his feet, and from that date the patient slowly recovered, being able after a time to resume his duties.
On January 21st two of the ship's company arrived at the vessel from Cornelius Grinnell Bay, nearly dead from hunger. They had been without food, except a mere morsel, for several days. They had left the ship four weeks before, and they said that they had not eaten on an average more than three ounces a day, so little game had been secured in that locality by the natives. Some days they had to eat sealskins, walrus hide, reindeer sinew, blasted whale-meat, and scraps remaining after trying out the ooksook. One of them, after two days' fasting, received from the hands of an Innuit a piece of reindeer sinew, weighing perhaps an ounce, for his supper; but, after chewing it awhile, he gave up the attempt to eat it.
On the 20th of February Robert Smith and five of the forward hands returned to the ship from Oopungnewing, where they had been living. Shevikoo, with his dogs and sledge, brought their bags of bedding. They said that the provisions at Oopungnewing were all out, and that they had had nothing to eat for several days. They reported also a sad occurrence. When the Innuits removed from the "Plains" to Oopungnewing they abandoned one of their number, the wife of "Jim Crow," leaving her, with but a trifle of provisions, to die. The reasons given for this act were that she was sick and unable to help herself. As soon ​as I was informed of this, I at once proposed to raise a party and go the next morning to ascertain the fate of the deserted woman, and, if she were still living, to bring her on a sledge to the ship.
In accordance with this purpose, I set out on the next day, February 21st, accompanied by Mate Lamb and four of the ship's crew, who volunteered for the work. We had a small sledge and four dogs, and took with us a variety of articles for the comfort of the suffering woman, if she should be alive when we reached her. It was ten o'clock before we started, new harness having to be made for the dogs, and the sledge to be dug out of a heavy snow-drift. The prospect of a successful issue of the trip was doubtful at starting. As I anticipated, we found the travelling very laborious. We walked in Indian file; I led the way occasionally, as did the others in turn. The walking through the snow was terrible work, and the one who led the way had to make footsteps for the others. No one except Lamb and myself could hold out longer than five minutes at a time in making these tracks. The snow was deep, and much of the way was just hard enough to almost bear our weight, but at each step down we would go, knee deep, thigh deep. It is impossible to convey to any one a correct idea of the nature of the travelling we experienced on this journey. First one and then another of my companions gave up and returned, leaving only Lamb and myself to proceed. The wind had freshened to a gale, sweeping the snow directly into our faces, and cutting us like powdered glass. The cold was intense. What could we do? Persevere? Yes, while I had any hope at all of effecting the object for which we had set out.
Lamb tried hard to persevere; but finally, he too had to abandon the task as hopeless. The dogs were unable to get on, moreover, and I was at last reluctantly obliged to turn my face again toward the ship, having decided that it was my duty to return to save the living rather than to strive to reach one who might be already dead. Never had I experienced harder work than in travelling back. The condition ​of Lamb was such that I feared for his life if we did not soon get on board. Every few steps the snow had to be broken down to make a passage. It was of God's mercy that I had strength enough to hold up, else both of us must have perished. Occasionally I threw myself down on the ice or snow, thoroughly exhausted; then I would start up, arouse Lamb, who seemed to be verging toward that sleep which in cold regions becomes the sleep of death, and once more battle onward.
During this hard passage back to the vessel my noble dog Barbekark was like a cheering friend; as now and then I lay almost exhausted upon the snow for a moment's rest, he danced around me, kissing my face, placing himself by my side, where I could pillow my head upon his warm body. No one who knew his characteristics could fail to perceive that he realised the critical situation of Lamb and myself. He would bound toward me, raise himself on his hinder legs, place his paws upon my breast, and glance from me toward the vessel, from the vessel to Lamb, then leap away, leading the sledge-team on a distance ahead, there to wait till we again came near, the few dogs and the soft state of the snow preventing us from riding.
I was indeed a happy man as I walked into the gangway of the George Henry, and learned that all my company were safely back to its shelter.
On February 25th I made another attempt to see what had become of the woman who had been abandoned, and I now take from my diary the history of that excursion:—
"Eight o'clock, night.—Back again! the attempt to reach the plains successful; the woman found within a tomb of snow, her spirit gone to God.
"I will now attempt to give the incidents of this day.
"This morning Ebierbing and I were up early. While my Innuit friend (who was to be my companion and auxiliary in my renewed attempt to rescue the one at the plains) was engaged in icing the sledge and harnessing the dogs, I was ​busy bagging blankets, pemmican, oil, &c.—the same articles I provided myself with on Friday last, with the object of making the woman comfortable before starting to bring her back. On getting the dogs together, Ebierbing found two missing. As it was essential to have a full team, we spared no exertions to find them. After searching all around the ship and the boats which are out on the ice, and not finding them, Ebierbing indicated that they might be over on the island at the deserted snow-houses of the Innuits. The two harnesses in hand, I offered to go and make a trial in getting them. I directed my steps to that part of the island where the abandoned igloos of Ebierbing and Koodloo are.
"Arriving there after severe struggling through the deep snow, I found dog-tracks leading to the openings into the two igloos, the said openings being through the dome, where the seal-entrail windows had been. Looking down through these openings, and searching around, I could see nothing of the dogs. I then made my way laboriously along, over to the village proper, on the farther side of Fresh-water Pond, and was unsuccessful here also. As I was making my return, I determined to visit again the igloos where I had first searched for the dogs, and on turning to them I saw one of the animals in the distance. On calling to him the other soon made its appearance; but, as I was a stranger to them, I had a difficulty in capturing them. They broke past me and ran into the broken-down passage-way leading into Ebierbing's deserted igloo. The drift, as well as the falling in of the dome, had so completely shut up this passage that I was a long time in enlarging the fox-hole sufficiently to admit my contracted size. By perseverance I kicked a way before me, being prostrate, and pushing along feet foremost; but on getting the length of the passage leading to the main igloo, and making a turn so that I could not look ahead, my dilemma was far from enviable, for there the dogs were, beyond a possibility of my reaching them, the dome of the igloo having stooped, as it were, to kiss its foundation. By using dog-persuasive talk, I at length induced one of them to come out of the ​wolf-like den and approach me. Here it played "catch-me-if-you-can," coming just without my reach, and dodging back into its lair. After fifteen minutes' coaxing the dog was tempted to hold out its paw, but as often as I attempted to meet it with mine it was tormentingly withdrawn. The paw was finally fast within my hold, and quickly I had the dog in harness, dragging him after me, and of course his companion followed after. When back to the vessel I was covered with perspiration, though the thermometer was 62° below the freezing point.
"At fifteen minutes past 10 a.m. Ebierbing and I started, with little expectation of being back to-night. We took along the pair of snow-shoes of Ebierbing's (of Esquimaux style and make), to be used alternately by each of us if the occasion required it, and added to our traps a snow-knife, with which to make us a snow-house on the way, if we needed it.
"The team of dogs was an excellent one, tractable, strong, and of great speed wherever and whenever the travelling would admit of it. The number was not what we could wish, being only seven, but it was as great as we could have. Had my four 'Greenlanders' been here, their help would have been ample for almost any emergency.
"The leader of Ebierbing's team proved to be of no ordinary quality. Though, for much of the way to the point where I was obliged to turn back on Friday last in order to save my remaining companion (Lamb), the tracks we had made were obliterated, yet this leader, with admirable instinct, kept us in the desired course. We had not proceeded far from the vessel before I found, to my joy, that the travelling had greatly improved since Friday. The snow, in many places, had become firmly packed—much of the way sufficiently firm to hold up the dogs and the broad shoe of the sledge, with both Ebierbing and me on it.
"We had other work than travelling to do. We worked desperately to keep our faces and feet from freezing. The wind was blowing a smart breeze all the way up the bay, directly from ahead, at a temperature of 62° below the freezing ​mark. The air calm, with a temperature of 100° below the freezing point of water, would be much more endurable than with such a wind, charged with the temperature it was. We took turns in trotting along beside the sledge, more for the object of keeping ourselves from freezing than with the view of easing the dogs of our additional weight. By the aid of these seven dogs, and the broad runners of this sledge of Ebierbing's, we were enabled in two hours to reach the ultimatum of our attempt on Friday. After getting half a mile beyond said point we really found good passable travelling, and, by keeping close inshore, as far as our course would admit of it, we found much fair ice, the tide having overflowed the snow and changed it to ice.
"As we came within the distance of half a mile of the plains, I kept a constant look-out to see if I could discover some human figure out watching our approach. I may here remark, as an incident of this journey, that so cutting was the cold wind that it froze the water of the eyes, locking them up in ice, so that it was only by vigilance and effort that I could keep myself in seeing order. Many a lump of ice that I was forced to withdraw from my eyes showed specimens of eyelashes embalmed in crystal. As I said, I kept as good a look-out as I could, hoping that our approach might be welcomed by the one we sought to snatch from her desolate imprisonment. The ascent from the sea-ice to the plains was so gradual that I knew not when we were on the one or the other. I was also in doubt about our having made the correct landing, for the snow had covered up all former sledge and dog markings; but, on watching the motions of our noble, vigilant leader, I felt satisfied that his instinct was proving true—that he was leading us, by marks imperceptible to human eye, to the point we so impatiently sought to reach. This confidence we soon found not misplaced, for ahead of us we perceived various articles left by the Innuits who were recently living there sticking up above the snow. The dogs increased their speed, as is usual with them on nearing an inhabited place, and soon placed us alongside where the igloos ​had been. But where were the three igloos that I had visited Thursday, January 30th, a little less than four weeks ago? Not one to be seen! I took my snow-knife from the sledge, and, after my companion had finished his work of whipping down the dogs to a prostrate position, I bade him follow me.
"Around and around we walked, searching for the igloos. Sure was I that we were at the point I had struggled to reach. Could it be possible that the deep snow had covered them up? My Innuit friend told me that such was probably the case. No footprints save our own could I discover. Were we travelling heedlessly over the grave of her whom we were fighting to save? This was a question that rushed into my brain. Then the thought came to me, Perhaps she still lives in some tomb beneath our feet. List! list! methought I heard a sound as if muffled! All was as still as a charnel-house. Ebierbing's accustomed eye was not long in discerning a spot that satisfied him that, by cutting down through the snow, it would lead to the doom of an igloo.
"Knowing it to be repugnant to his feelings to touch anything belonging to an igloo covering the dead, I spared him all pain on that score by digging down unassisted. A few moments sufficed to satisfy me that Ebierbing had indicated to me the precise spot leading to an igloo, for a few cuts with my snow-knife brought me down to the dome of one, and a few more through it. After cutting a hole of sufficient size to let in light and my head, I knelt down, and, with throbbing heart, surveyed within. The igloo was vacated of everything save a large lump of blubber back upon the dais or platform—the bed-place and seat of the Innuits—and a few bones, the remains of some of the tuktoo that had been killed by the Innuits on the plains. A brief search revealed the apex of another igloo. Through the dome of this I cut a hole, but found the interior still more vacant; not a thing was in it, if I except a drift of snow that completely filled the front of the igloo, closing up the place that had been used as the entrance. This made two igloos that I had searched without finding the object of my sympathy and pursuit. Where was ​the third? That was now the question, beyond the probability of being immediately answered. We sought here and there, but unsuccessfully for a while. Ebierbing took an oo-nar (seal-spear)—which was among the articles I indicated as pointing up through the snow which we saw as we made our approach—and 'sounded,' striking it down through the deep snow in one place after another, till he hit what told him the third igloo was there. He called to me, and pointed to the spot, withdrawing himself a little distance off, where he awaited my opening up whatever might be below. Stroke after stroke with my long knife loosened the hard pure snow-drift. I lifted the blocks up out of their bed, casting them aside. This was the final search. My feelings, as I delved away at this heart-tearing work, may be better conceived
SEEKING THE LOST VILLAGE.
than described. The dome of the igloo was reached. The heat that had been generated within from the fire-light had turned the snow of which it was made into solid ice, and I had difficulty in getting a hole through this. All this time we were exposed to the wind, blowing its cold, freezing blast from the north-west. My snow-knife gave way in cutting this icy dome, and I was obliged to take in its place the seal-spear. With this I quickly penetrated the wall under me, thus revealing the fact that a lining, or second envelope, was yet to be cut through before I could determine my success in ​finding her whom I sought. It is a custom quite prevalent with the Innuits to line their snow-houses with sealskins, or such sail-cloth as they occasionally obtain from the whalers, for the object of shedding the droppings from the melting dome of the igloo, which follow when a large fire-light is kept burning, or when the weather becomes very moderate.
"This igloo I found to be lined with both sealskins and sail-cloth sewed together. With the knife I made an opening through this material. Throwing back its folds, and peering down into the interior, I there beheld her whom my soul aspired to help and to save. But she moved not, she answered not to my call. Could she be slumbering so soundly, so sweetly, that the ordinary tone of the human voice could not arouse her! There she was, her face turned to the wall at her right, reclining in her couch, fully enveloped in bed-covering. Enlarging the opening I had already made for the purpose of descending into this igloo, I called first to my Innuit friend to come near me. With cautious steps he approached. I told him the discovery I had made, and that I wished him to assist me as I descended, and to remain by while I determined whether the woman breathed or not. As the opening was directly over the ikkumer, I had considerable difficulty in getting down into the igloo, but at last I was within. In breathless silence I approached the object before me. I unmittened my right hand, and placed it on her forehead. It was frosted marble! She is dead! she is dead! were my uttered words to my friend, who stood on the snow roof looking down, and watching intently for the momentous result. Her whom we thought to rescue, God Himself had rescued. He found her here, lonely and hopeless, imprisoned in a clay tabernacle, and this entombed in ice walls and snow—deserted, abandoned by her people, when at His bidding an angel with white wing—whiter than the pure, radiant, snow around—took the jewel from its broken casket, and bore it away to its home.
"'Is she not better off now than when in this sinful world?' asked my weeping heart, as I looked upon the ​ice-fixed features before me. Rut the scene I cannot now dwell upon.
"I turn to the simple record of my investigations of whatever might lead to a conjecture of the time of this woman's death, and other incidents relating thereto.
"SHE MOVED NOT, SHE ANSWERED NOT TO MY CALL."
"At the immediate entrance to the igloo—within the igloo—was a drift of snow reaching from the base to the dome. This snow had found its way in by a crevice not larger than ​my finger. On digging the drift away, I found a portion of a snow block that had been a snow door. As it had become but a fragment, of insufficient size to seal up the entrance from the took-soo, or passage-way, into the main igloo, slabs of 'black skin' had been piled up, to make up the deficiency of the snow block. Whether this was done by the deserted woman or not I cannot decide. There is a probability that the Innuits, who so cruelly abandoned her to her fate, nearly filled up the entrance, then withdrew, turned round, and, by means of their arms and hands, reaching within through the small opening, completed the sealing up, the last act being to place a block of snow in the small remaining crevice.
"The woman, I doubt not, was so helpless as to be unable to get off the bed-platform from the time the Innuits left till her death. On the network over the fireplace was a single article—a pau-loo (mitten). Over the instrument used by the Innuits to contain their fire-light was hung a long iron pan in which to make snow-water. This contained ice, leaving the evidence that the woman's fire had ceased to burn, that the water had become frozen, and that, in order to quench her burning thirst, she had chipped ice from the pan (which hung close by her head as she lay in bed) by means of her oodloo (woman's knife). A tobacco-pipe was near her head also, apparently having been used just before she died. By her side—between her and the wall of the igloo—was a four-gallon tin can, containing articles of the character and variety possessed by every Innuit woman—needles, reindeer sinews (for thread), oodloo, beads, &c. &c. There was abundance of whale skin within the igloo, and so of ooksook with which to continue a fire; but all of it was down on the floor of the igloo, without the reach of the woman, if she were unable to get from her bed, which I presume was the case when the Innuits left her. The bedding was extremely scanty. Over her limbs was nought but an old sealskin jacket, over her body and shoulders the shreds of a tuktoo skin and piece of an old blanket. As I turned back the covering from her shoulders, I saw that she was reduced to ​'skin and bones.' As I looked upon her tattooed face, it was youthful and fair; even a smile was there, as if the King of Cold had fastened upon her at the very moment when her spirit welcomed the white-winged angel from heaven.
"I know not how long I tarried in this that had been her living tomb, and was now the tomb of that only which is earthly. But at last I raised myself through the opening in the dome by which I had made my entrance, and, with the assistance of my Innuit friend, proceeded to cut out snow-blocks and place them over the excavated place in the igloo. Having secured it as well as we could, thus reburying, as it were, the dead, we turned our faces to the sledge and dogs, and were soon on our way to the ship."
On Saturday, March 1st, news arrived by Koodloo of the ill success attending him and Ebierbing on their seal-hunts at Too-koo-li-to Inlet, and of the starving condition of their families. I thereupon determined to return with Koodloo and carry food to relieve them, and also to effect arrangements to have Koodloo and Ebierbing, with their families, removed to Field Bay. We started with eight dogs attached to our sledge, but the deep yielding snow made our progress at first very slow. Our course for the first four miles was nearly due north, when we struck the land on the east side of Grinnell Mount; thence, for a distance of fifteen miles, our journey was inland, first traversing a chain of lakelets embosomed amid mountains. When about three miles inland on our way, we came across an igloo nearly buried in snow; it was one that had been made a half-way house by Ebierbing and his party in going up. After this our way wound in and out among the mountains, up and down the steep sides, the sledge often nearly running over the dogs, till we came to Tookoolito Inlet, where we expected to find Ebierbing, his wife, and Koodloo's family.
EBIERBING WAITING A SEAL'S "BLOW."
​had not yet come in, Koodloo and I went in search of him with dogs and sledge. When within three cables' distance of where he was still seated beside the seal-hole, having been there since the previous morning, he signified to us not to approach nearer, lest we should frighten the seal, as it had come up and given a puff. We then returned to the igloo and remained for another night. On the morning of March 4th Ebierbing had not returned, and I went once more to look for him, but soon discovered him approaching. He had been two and a half days and two nights at that seal-hole, patiently sitting over it without food or drink! and he had not caught the seal either. On returning to the igloo some soup and other food was given him, and he then expressed a determination to go and try again.
On the evening of March 5th I was again at the ship, Ebierbing, his wife, and infant having accompanied me. I left a supply of my pemmican for Koodloo and his family, until Ebierbing should return with the dogs and sledge for them.
The last half of the month of March I was chiefly occupied with preparations for the sledge journey which I proposed making up Frobisher Bay, and to which I have before referred. I conclude this chapter with an extract from my diary of January 8th, concerning a subject which was always present with me, and to a consideration of which I gave many thoughtful hours:—
"This p.m. I have called on my Innuit friends Ebierbing and Tookoolito. They are going to accompany me to the United States. I take them with the object of having them as interpreters on my still proposed voyage to King William's Land and Boothia Felix. Among the Innuits who spend their lives in the vicinity of the places named, there exists the history of Sir John Franklin's expedition from about the time the Erebus and Terror became beset in the ice, near King William's Land, to its final dispersion, and of all events connected therewith: the history of Sir John Franklin's expedition exists among the Innuits now living on and in ​the vicinity of King William's Land, Montreal Island, and Boothia Felix Peninsula. I am almost positive that if I can be so blessed by the Power that overrules all things as to make a successful passage to the field of my desired operations, I can, after a time, accomplish such a work as shall make it a matter of astonishment to the civilized world that the same has not been done before."
CIVILIZATION SLEDGE. (See Appendix, No. 11.)