# Life with the Esquimaux/Volume 2/Chapter 2

CHAPTER II.
An Excursion to the Whaling Dépôt—Passage across Field Bay—Singular Mode of capturing Seals—Chapell Inlet—Cross to Frobisher Bay—Great number of Pieces of Limestone—Boat Trip to Bear Sound—Velocity of the Tides—Immense number of Ducks and Wild-fowl—Eggs obtained in abundance—Return to Rescue Harbour—Stop at French Head—Corpse of John Brown still there, and unmolested—Arrive on Board—Musquitoes—Ugarng's Influence and Character—A Love Affair—Little Ookoodlear and the Outcast E-tu—An unnatural Father—A Child left deserted on a solitary Island—Procures Food by catching Partridges with his Hand—Lives a Hermit Life for Months—Is rescued by chance Visitors—Ugarng's generous Protection.
On my return, June 15th, 1861, I found Innuit visitors at the ship. The only two men left on board were quite well. I was also much pleased to see that all my own apparel had been put in order, and such as needed it washed by Tookoolito, who had occasionally visited the vessel during my absence, and had thus thoughtfully provided for my comfort.
The following few days I devoted wholly to resting myself and preparing for my long-desired voyage to King William's Land, which I intended to make as soon as I could obtain the means of prosecuting it, and the ice would permit.
On the 17th another heavy gale burst upon us, which continued until the 20th. It blew hard, but there was no danger just now to the ship, for Rescue Harbour was still paved over with thick, solid ice; yet she trembled through her whole frame, and her masts quivered like reeds. In the outer bay, seaward, the ice was broken into innumerable fragments. On account of the storm, the natives on board, who had come from Cape True, could not return, and those on shore I perceived to be suffering from a general wreck of their habitations. Hardly a tupic was standing. The gale had razed them to the ground.
My late companions, Ebierbing and Koodloo, set out on ​the 20th sealing, and returned the following day, having secured eight seals, weighing in all about 1,400 pounds. This would have supplied them with food for a long time had they provident habits.
At this time news came by Koojesse from the whaling dépôt at Cape True, in Frobisher Bay. All the officers and crew stationed there were well, though still unsuccessful.
As Koojesse was to return as soon as possible, I determined to go with him, and accordingly we set out on the following evening, June 21st.
At 7 p.m. we left the ship, with sledge and a team of eight dogs, including my faithful Barbekark. Our load was light, and we went along over the uncertain ice at three miles an hour. We had a thick fog all the way in crossing Field Bay, and Koojesse, though a capital guide, was evidently taking a wrong course after leaving Rescue Harbour, until I showed him by my compass, how we ought to go. By that means we got into the old sledge-tracks, marking the course to and fro, and were even with French Head in two and a half hours from the ship.
On the passage I noticed another singular and striking method which the natives use to capture seals. I will relate the incident as recorded in my journal of Saturday, the 22d of June:—
innuit strategy to capture a seal.
​yet high raised, looking at the motley sight, and listening to the pandemonian sounds, which frightened it near unto death. On we went; but when the dogs were within a few paces only, the seal regained his senses, and down he went just in time to save his—blubber! Koojesse says that young seals are often captured by such procedure as this, but seldom old ones."
On arriving near the base of French Head, a little the other side of it, we turned toward Chapell Inlet, intending to cross over the isthmus at its head. The channel by which we had first entered this inlet in the Rescue (August 21st, 1860) was now full of hummocks; we therefore crossed over a neck of land perhaps half a mile wide, covered with submerged ice. The floating qualities of the sledge, as well as of the load, including ourselves, made our passage by water rapid, though not very comfortable.
We crossed this "pass"—used frequently by the Innuits and the ship's crew in going to and from Cape True—and entered the inlet. Here I found many portions of the ice covered with the melted snows, and in some places the sledge sank deep in the water, much to the annoyance of the dogs as well as of ourselves.
On the way Koojesse again had "talk" with some more seals which we saw, and it was with great interest I watched him. He lay down on one side, and crawled by hitches or jerks toward his victim; then, as the seal raised its head, Koojesse would stop, and commence pawing with his right hand and foot while he uttered his "seal-talk." On this the seal would feel a charm, raise and shake its flippers both "fore and aft," and roll over on its side and back, as if perfectly delighted, after which it would drop its head to sleep; then Koojesse would hitch, hitch along, till the seal's head would pop up again, which usually occurred every few moments. But Koojesse approached too near, and this broke the charm, allowing the seal to escape, and leaving the disappointed sealer to cry, "E-e-e-ŭk!"
The great trouble with the Innuits in this mode of sealing ​is that they often endeavour to get too near—say within five or seven fathoms—so as to make sure of their aim with a gun or spear, and this alarms their prey.
During our progress up the inlet I observed a very small newly-made igloo, and asked Koojesse what it meant. "Wich-ou, wich-ou" (wait, wait), said he in reply, and in a few moments we came alongside. The next instant Koojesse had jumped off the sledge, and with a grab through the snow, drew forth by one of its hind flippers a fine seal that he had killed when on his way up to the vessel.
As we proceeded up the inlet, gradually the low land at its head appeared, and at two in the morning of the 22d we had reached it. From here we turned westward, following the sinuosities of the coast for two miles, when we struck across the narrow strip of land dividing Chapell Inlet from Frobisher Bay. A few minutes sufficed to find us slowly working along the badly-broken shore-ice; on that side, the bay itself being wholly free, except a few bergs. Occasionally the dogs went pell-mell down, and over the steep broken ice; then the sledge would butt against a perpendicular hummock, sending us forward, very much like a stone out of a sling; but we got along without serious mishap, and arrived at Cape True at half-past two in the morning.
As my eye first caught sight of the whale dépôt I was quite astonished. I had formed no conception of its being such a busy-looking place. There were numerous and thickly-crowded habitations, white men and Innuit tents, mills (toy wind-mills), and a liberty-pole, holding high to the breeze an extemporized emblem of our country! People were already up and about, and every pinnacled rock had some person upon it to witness our approach. The dogs soon landed us on the rocks which formed the "public square" of the town, and quickly, from one and all, I received a hearty welcome. It seemed almost like home again to behold so many friendly and familiar faces. Several Innuits were here, most of whom I well knew, and they were delighted to see me.
Immediately on my arrival I was invited by the captain ​and officers into their quarters, and had an excellent breakfast put before me. Of course one of the first inquiries was about my trip to and return from the "dreaded land." This I soon answered by giving an account of what I had done, and then, my morning meal ended, I took a walk along the beach. Everywhere I found fragments of limestone in abundance, and my pockets were soon filled with specimens, which I brought home.
One object of my visit to the whale dépôt was to see about preparing for my departure to King William's Land, and to consult Captain B—— respecting it. The boat promised me had to be made ready, and therefore I at once entered upon the subject with him. The following is an extract from the entry made in my journal at the time (Saturday, June 22d, 1861):—
"Captain B—— says that he has been out in this bay (Frobisher) several times since coming over, and that he has been much impressed with the subject of my making my trip or voyage this summer, as expected, in a whale-boat. He thought it his duty to open the matter to me at once, announcing the conclusion he had come to, painful to him and to me. The boat which I had had made in the States, especially designed and made for my expedition to King William's Land, was a suitable one for me, but a whale-boat was unfit. Captain B—— continued to say that I had not any more of an outfit, provision, &c. than I should take, but that, with the crew necessary, I could not possibly carry more than a very small proportion of what I had. He found that with the boat's crew, and the three line-tubs each boat has, no additional weight could be added to navigate in such waters as he knew I would be obliged to in getting to the point of my destination.
"This is a serious matter with me—one pregnant with such thoughts I cannot put upon paper. I cannot, I will not sell my life foolishly. If the loss of my expedition boat, which was well planned and strongly made, has taken from me the proper, the only judicious means of carrying out my purpose ​of going to King William's Land, then I must delay—I must lose one year in returning to the States and prepare again for the voyage that I am still determined to make, God willing. I will refer in my journal to this subject again."
Among the Innuits staying at the whale dépôt was the woman Puto, mother of the semi-white child. This poor woman was very badly off, her husband being dead, and she had but scant means of providing for herself and offspring. Seeing her sad condition, I gave her several trinkets, and, in addition, a box of 100 percussion caps. This latter present caused her to weep for joy. She knew not how enough to thank me. With them she could trade among her people for many conveniences she wanted. Anything in the way of ammunition is thought more of by the Innuits than almost any other articles that could be named.
At this time the weather was fine, and the view of Kingaite, with its miles and miles of mountain wall, its glaciers, and its snows, was grand indeed. More than ever was I desirous of exploring that coast; and I thought that, even if nothing else could be done, I might possibly examine some of the places made famous by Frobisher's voyages in 1576, '7, and '8. "Bear Sound" was but a short distance to the eastward, and the second day after my arrival at the whale dépôt, I took with me "Captain" (Kokerjabin's youngest son), and walked toward it. But he proved only a hindrance to me. I had to go full fifteen miles to reach a point of land not more than two and a half miles in a direct line. I was obliged to make for the head of Chapell Inlet by first wading through some soft, wet snow, that covered shore-ice and the land on my way. Then I had to make a long circuit around some stones and rocks, and afterward ascend hill after hill, going through valleys full of snow soft and deep enough to cover my whole body. But wherever I went, small pieces of limestone were in abundance, even to the very mountain-tops.
At length I arrived at my destination on the west side of Bear Sound. There—beside those waters, on whose shores Frobisher and his men had laboured for the mineral wealth ​which he believed he had found there—I had my noon repast, my Innuit companion sharing it with me. Resting awhile, I forgot my youthful attendant, while contemplating the scene around me. Presently I rose to return, and missed "Captain." I called; no reply. Where had he gone? There was a steep precipice close by, and I became alarmed lest he had fallen over it. I therefore instantly sought for him, and after some moments found his tracks. He had left me without a word, intending to go by a more direct, but, as I thought, dangerous course to the dépôt. I followed him, and we returned together, arriving at the tents much fatigued.
While I was stopping at Cape True the boats frequently went to get fuel from the scattered remains of the Traveller before mentioned. The shore was strewed with portions of the wreck, which would serve for many years for fuel for ships' companies occupied as the George Henry's was at the whaling dépôt.
The crew of the George Henry were at that time living "in clover." They had plenty of ducks, duck-eggs, seal, walrus, &c., and whenever they wanted a supply they had only to go and take what Nature here so plentifully furnished. On one of these occasions (June 24th) I accompanied a party that went "duck-egging." It consisted of two whale-boats, manned by whites and Innuits, under command of Charles Keeney and A. Bailey. I went with the latter, leaving the whale dépôt early in the morning, and striking right across a little bight to the west entrance of Bear Sound.
On entering this sound I was surprised at the velocity and singular movements of the tides. As we advanced the tide was ebbing, and running swiftly up toward Field Bay. But when we had reached Ellis Island, the movement of the tidal waters appeared to be reversed, and they were throwing themselves furiously about. Eddies, and whirlpools, and mill-races ​were there running and whirling around in the wildest and most fantastic way, carrying on their foaming surface small bergs, "sconce" pieces, and ice fragments of all shapes, in utter disregard of each other. When the tide turned, these masses came whirling back, as if madly bent on heaping destruction wherever they could. This scene in Bear Sound was singularly grand and striking.
With regard to these tides I will not say much here, reserving such subjects for the Appendix; but I soon found this to be a subject requiring attentive consideration, and this I afterward had an opportunity of giving to it.
As to egging and duck-hunting, I can say no more about it now. The ducks were very numerous, flying over our heads in every direction. They were in the water drifting with the swiftly-running tide, on the ice, and on nearly every one of the numerous islands we passed. Wherever we saw a great many upon or around an island, we visited it for eggs.
The first island we pulled to was one in the midst of a sweeping, driving tide, so that it seemed to defy all human exertions to approach it; yet, after "a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether," we conquered. The boat was taken round to the opposite side of the island from that where the tide struck it, and though the water rolled and tumbled as if mad, we managed by a plan of our own to get upon the top of the magnificent "ice-collar" that engirdled the island.
This was the first time in my life that I saw eider-ducks' nests, and consequently the first occasion in which I aided in abstracting the large, luscious eggs. In ten minutes four of us gathered six dozen, and at another island, in twenty minutes, sixteen dozen and five. The eggs taken are replaced by fresh ones, as the ducks lay every two or three days. Many ducks were shot, but, owing to the swift tide, only a few were obtained. The rest were swept away.
In speaking of the "ice-collars" surrounding the islands, I may mention that if they had been simply perpendicular the difficulty in mounting them would not have been so great; but they projected over from ten to thirty feet, and when the ​tide had fallen some twenty-four feet it was no slight task to surmount them. We managed it in some cases by extending two of our long oars from the boat to the top, thus forming a substitute for a ladder.
Many of the islands in Bear Sound were locked together by natural ice-bridges, several of these being arched in a most remarkable manner.
SCALING AN ICE COLLAR IN BEAR SOUND.
We approached to within three miles of Sylvia Island, the same on which I and my Innuit companions had encamped on our late journey to the "dreaded land," and I could not but view it in a most friendly way when I remembered how its warm, dry rocks gave us a good bed and protection from the storms.
Our excursion lasted some hours, and we returned to the tupics, both boats well laden with eggs. The total acquisition of our two boats' crews was one hundred dozen eggs, and five ducks. An eider-duck egg is nearly twice the size of a hen's.
​At this time Captain B—— was absent with two boats a short distance up the bay "prospecting" for whales. He returned on the 28th of June, during a fierce storm of wind and rain, and he informed me that the trip back was made under most unfavourable circumstances. The previous night had been passed on an island above Evictoon, the only shelter obtained from the storm being that which their boats' sails afforded when put up as a tent. His own crew suffered greatly from the cold; but the Innuits with him, not finding sufficient room inside the tent, went out and lay down under the lee of some projecting rocks! They rested and slept well, while the white men could hardly keep themselves, as they said, from being frozen.
On the evening of Friday, the 28th of June, having spent seven days at Cape True, I purposed starting back the next day for the vessel. An extract from my journal of that date I will here introduce:—
"To-morrow I accompany Captain B—— back to the George Henry. He goes with the expectation of remaining there until the vessel is liberated, when he intends to return to this bay, and cruise around awhile, and if unsuccessful, to return to Field Bay, or proceed to Cornelius Grinnel Bay. Two boats' crews are to follow in a few days, while two remain here (Frobisher Bay) for a little while, to continue cruising for whales."
Here follows another entry in my journal, made just before leaving the whaling dépôt:—
"Saturday, June 29th, 1861.—I soon start for home—that is, set out for the vessel. Captain B—— and I are to have one sledge for ourselves and our traps, and will have Koojesse for dog-driver. Charley, the good-hearted Innuit, is to take another team along, to convey the clothes of two of the George Henry's men—one the carpenter, a Portuguese, and young Smith, who are to go along.
"Puto and Miner's wife have been mending my kum-ings (native boots) this morning, that I may go dry-shod to the vessel, as we anticipate watery travelling."
​At 8 a.m. of the 29th we left Cape True, and at 6 p.m arrived at French Head. As we passed "French Head," where poor John Brown had met his death a little over three months previous, we had a look at the spot. Lo! there were his remains just as we had left them, except that the foxes or bears had eaten part of his skin clothing. His corpse was untouched! As for the monument we had erected over him, that had melted away, and soon the ice beneath his body would melt away also, and lower him into his ocean grave.
The journey back to the ship was very difficult. In many places pools of water and broken ice led to the apprehension that no passage would be found; and nearly the whole way we had to walk almost knee-deep through slush and water covering the sea-ice. But at length, about midnight, we arrived on board, and soon threw ourselves down to rest, after a most fatiguing journey of sixteen hours.
Four days later was the Fourth of July, and the following extract from my diary will show how it was celebrated among us:—
"Thursday, July 4th, 1861.—Eighty-five years ago to-day was made the Declaration of American Independence. Here, amid mountains robed in snow—on a sea covered with thick-ribbed ice—among a people free as God's own children can be, we celebrate the birthday of our freedom. The iron free sons of the North have joined us in making the welkin ring with our cheers and steel-throated welcomes of this memorable day.
"Soon after nine last night, all turned in, agreeing to be on deck a few minutes before twelve midnight. Sleep stole so heavily upon us, that it was 1 o'clock a.m. when Morgan came to my berth and called me. A few moments sufficed to find a company, armed and equipped as the law (the George Henry's) directs, ready for action. Some of the company were, as they eaped from their blankets, in stocking-feet and drawers. Nevertheless, they had willing hands and patriotic hearts, wide mouths and deep-toned throats, therefore they 'passed muster,' The signal was given by me, and in voices of thunder ​we spoke, and then followed cheer upon cheer. The ensign was hoisted, while we saluted it with a round of cheers and sulphurous fire.
"After a capital dinner, an old cast-away gun, that had been lying about the deck, was filled to the brim with powder, the charge hammered down, and the barrel plugged to the muzzle. The stock had been ripped off in the morning by the Innuits, leaving only the barrel. It was now taken far out on the ice, placed on a pure white bed, and fired. One grand explosion filled the air, and the old gun was shattered into innumerable fragments, some flying over the vessel, others mounting high into the air, and one piece going as far as Cooper's Island, a quarter of a mile off, where it was afterward picked up.
"Such has been our celebration of Independence Day, 1861.
"This afternoon I visited Cooper's Island, and, with chisel and hammer, dug out some of the 'black ore,' such as was discovered by Frobisher's expedition of 1578, with which many of his ships were laden. This ore attracts and repels the magnetic needle about like iron. It is very heavy."
On the 6th of July I went to Whale Island for the purpose of looking seaward, that I might see the state of the ice and consider the probability of the ship becoming free. It was only about six miles to the open water—the sea. Good prospect, therefore, of soon being entirely free. All the ice, except that around the ship, where islands blocked up the passages, had drifted away, and hope rose strong within us that we should soon be able to make sail from Rescue Harbour, where the vessel had lain so long.
Another island (Look-out Island) I found wholly destitute of snow, and vegetation was quite luxuriant upon it. Grasses and flowers looked truly beautiful when contrasted with the bay and snow-covered mountains around.
On the 7th of July we were visited by the first musquitoes of the season; and, from the torment they gave me, I was strongly reminded of my sufferings at Holsteinborg the previous year, and also had a taste of what would probably come.
Another arrival this day was Ugarng and his wives. He ​was loaded with the spoils of a successful reindeer hunt, and, in addition, had killed a white whale in Cornelius Grinnel Bay. He and several more Innuits went off to the whale dépôt to see what prospects existed there for hunting or fishing, but he did not remain long. Upon his return he determined to revisit the place he had lately left.
Ugarng had great influence among his people, and I have often thought he was not a man to be wholly trusted. Indeed, I sometimes felt that nothing ever done for him would cause a grateful return. He was a bold, successful, and experienced hunter, and, as such, was frequently engaged by the whalers he encountered; but little dependence could be placed upon him. The strongest agreement would be instantly set at naught whenever he saw anything more likely to conduce to his own interest.
In the present case Ugarng was using all his powers of persuasion to induce every Innuit to leave our locality and go with him. What his real motive was I cannot say; but it is probable that now, when there was abundance to be had by hunting and sealing, he—who disliked the restraints of civilisation—wanted to go farther away, and to take along all his friends, relatives, and acquaintances, so as to be perfectly and absolutely free. He tried every means to induce Ebierbing and Tookoolito to go with him, and for a time there was some hesitation on their part about it; but their attachment to me prevailed, and neither of them would consent to go. A general migration, however, did take place. Many of the Innuits accompanied Ugarng; and I afterward heard that several others, as Annawa, Artarkparu, and all belonging and known to them, went away about the same time from the whaling dépôt (where a few of the ships' crews still remained to look for whales), taking their course up Frobisher Bay.
Ugarng's party consisted of his two wives, Kunniu and Punnie; infant, Me-noun; nephew, Eterloong; and his aged mother, Ookijoxy Ninoo, besides Johnny Bull and his wife Kokerzhun, Bob and his wife Polly, Blind George and his daughter Kookooyer, and, lastly, E-tu the wifeless.
​About the time the great leave-taking took place between these unsophisticated children of the North and Ebierbing with his wife, an incident occurred that especially deserves to be recorded. There was an Innuit young man named E—tu, who had lately joined the natives from some other place. This Etu I had noticed as somewhat singular in his ways, and remarkable in his appearance. He was much under the protection or rule of Ugarng, and seemed to be his willing follower.
Now Ugarng wanted little Ookoodlear (cousin of Ebierbing and niece of Ugarng) to marry this Etu, but she unhesitatingly expressed her dislike to the proposal.
On the day of Ugarng and his company's departure, I was on shore to bid them all farewell.
About the time this company of Innuits was ready to start for Cornelius Grinnell Bay (July 15th) I went over to Whale Island. As I arrived there I looked toward Look-out Island, and found that the boat of Bob's, with several natives, was on the move south-east toward the open water. The boat was lashed upon a sledge drawn by a portion of Ebierbing's dogs, the natives assisting in pushing. Just by Whale Island was Ugarng's sledge loaded with tupics, and nearly in readiness for the final start.
I went into Ebierbing's tupic, and there found Tookoolito busy in attending to her friend Kokerzhun's departure. These two women were strong friends, and the separation for what would probably be a long time was evidently painful; but I saw some one else also much affected. Little Oookoodlear was weeping as if her heart would break, and, on inquiry, I ascertained it was because Ugarng wanted to take her away and marry her to Etu. So great was her dislike to the young man, that nothing but force would make her his wife.
Ebierbing, seeing the wretchedness of her mind on the subject, went, in company with Koodloo, to Etu, and told him that the girl was yet too young to marry, and that, moreover, she did not like him. This explanation had some effect, and ​Ookoodlear was allowed to remain behind, on Ebierbing declaring that he and his wife would be her protectors.
I heard a most extraordinary account of this Etu. It seems that, in consequence of something that happened to his mother before he was born, the poor infant came into the world marked over with snow-white spots and black spots, just like a kou-oo-lik, a large, spotted kind of seal. The father, looking upon this spotted child as a monster—a living curse in his family—determined to get rid of him, and accordingly conveyed the boy to Ki-ki-tuk-ju-a, i.e. Long Island, called by me Brevoort Island, the southern point of which is Cape Murchison. This island was quite destitute of means of subsistence, and, to appearance, the poor boy was left to perish of starvation. Strange to say, however, Etu lived on. He succeeded in catching partridges with his hands, an act never before or since known to have been done by Innuits. Thus the summer passed on, and winter approached. Still he lived, subsisting upon whatsoever he could find in the shape of food, a wild hermit-boy, on a solitary, almost unapproachable island, far from his fellow-beings. Release came to him in the following manner:—
One day a party of Innuits visited the island, and, to their astonishment, saw this young child standing upon a rock looking at them. He was like a statue, and they, knowing the place to be uninhabited, could hardly tell what to think of it. At length they went toward him, and he, seeing them kindly disposed, at once rushed into their arms, and was thus saved from the cruel death intended for him by his inhuman father.
Since then he had grown to manhood, being, when I saw him, about twenty-five years old. He had had three wives, none of which remained to him. The first was accidentally ​drowned; the second was taken away by her mother; and the third—her fate I never learned. His intended fourth, Ookoodlear, who was only about thirteen years old, escaped in the way I have mentioned.
Etu's fortune was a hard one. Few liked him. He seemed to be tabooed from his youth, and as if always destined to be an outcast, because Nature had put marks upon his body, making him to differ from others of his kind. Whether it was the knowledge of this isolation that made him a lazy and indifferent hunter, I cannot say; but certain it is, such was the character he had, and it redounds to the credit of Ugarng that he gave the poor fellow the hand of friendship in the way he did.
* ↑ "French Head" is a prominent headland, south side of Field Bay, and so named to commemorate the death of the Frenchman, which occurred near its base, as related in Chapter XIII. French Head is in lat. 62° W 30″ N. long. 64° 45′ W.
* ↑ A prominent, bold rock island, west side of Bear Sound, about one-sixth of a mile in diameter, three miles from Field Bay, and named after John W. Ellis, of Cincinnati, Ohio. "Ellis Island" is in lat. 62° 32′ N. long. 64° 45′ W.
* ↑ So named after J. Carson Brevoort, of Brooklyn, New York. This is a very long and prominent island south of the cape, on the west side of the entrance to Northumberland Inlet; its southern cape—Cape Murchison—is nearly on a parallel with the north entrance to Cornelius Grinnell Bay.
* ↑ Named after Sir Roderick I. Murchison, of London, England. Cape Murchison, the south extreme of Brevoort Island, is in lat. 63° 13′ N. long. 63° 55′ W.