CHAPTER VIIESKIMO VISITORS
Our Visitors Leave for their Homes—Departure of a Party to Build a Stone Hut in Tooktoo Valley—Arrival of the Most Northerly Family in the World—The Last Hunting-party of the Season Goes to Five-Glacier Valley—Still the Natives Come—Mama’s Birthday—Finishing Touches to our Winter Quarters—Eclipse of the Moon—Beginning of the Winter Routine—Matt Installed as Cook—Thanksgiving.
Wednesday, October 28. Yesterday Nowdingyah and his piccaninny, a little girl about two and a half years old, put in their appearance. The child was nicely dressed in a blue-fox “kapetah” (overcoat) and seal cap trimmed with fox, but she was not as pretty as Kayunah’s little one. I gave her a looking-glass, too, which amused her father as much as it did the child. After supper Mr. Peary brought out his reading-glass, and Arrotochsuah’s wife immediately said she had seen a white man have one at the northern settlement of Etah, and she showed us how he had used it as a burning-glass. We are all curious to know what party of white men she had seen. The whole evening till midnight was spent in taking flashlight photographs of the Eskimos and ethnological measurements of Kayunah.
Our Eskimo visitors left for their homes this morning. At noon the boys, with Dr. Cook in charge, started for Five-GlacierValley to hunt reindeer and to bring the cached venison down to the edge of the ice, where Ikwa will call for it in a few days and bring it back on the sledge. The boys will then proceed to the head of the bay, and under Dr. Cook’s direction build a stone igloo for the use of the inland ice-party next spring. About three o’clock Matt returned for a tin of biscuits which had been forgotten, and informed us that Verhoeff had frozen his nose and face severely, and that Astrup’s cheeks had also been nipped. The temperature was –10°, and a fresh southeaster was blowing across the bay. Ikwa and Mané came in this afternoon and added quite a number of words to our Eskimo vocabulary; the former also gave us an account of the murder of his father by tattooed natives while out after bear off Saunders Island.
Saturday, October 31. Ikwa started this morning with the sledge and dogs for Arrotochsuah’s igloo, where he expects to get a load of hay. About 2P. M., while we were out, Mr. Peary shoveling snow against the wall, we saw a dark object on the ice, and with the aid of the glass made out a sledge and two people, but they did not seem to get any nearer, and in a short time disappeared. About six they arrived—Annowkah, his wife M’gipsu, and an awful-looking baby of about two months. They came from Nerki, a place beyond Arrotochsuah’s, two days’ journey from Redcliffe. They are cleaner and more intelligent-looking than any natives we have yet seen. In conversation we discovered that they were the most northerly family of Greenland, and consequently of the globe.
Mr. Peary and I are having great times keeping house by ourselves; he brings in the snow for water, the coal and coal-oil, and keeps watch during the night, while I cook, wash dishes, sweep (without a broom—the only article of importance that was overlooked in the preparations for our Arctic journey), and look after Mané, who is here with her two children working on the reindeer skins. We shall not be sorry when the boys return and take some of these duties off our shoulders.
Prepared for Winter.—My South Window.
Prepared for Winter.—My South Window.
Prepared for Winter.—My South Window.
Thursday, November 5. Jack is the father of eight jet-black pups. The days are only a few hours long now, but the darkness is not yet the darkness of a winter night at home. Mr. Peary’s leg is improving steadily, and he seems more like himself. The strain has told on both of us, and I am glad it is over. He put up his writing-desk yesterday, and our roomis almost fixed for the winter, and looks very cozy. We have been busy putting up the rest of the blankets in our room, and have closed the side window and one half of the end window. As daylight has almost entirely departed this will make no difference in the amount of our illumination, and the room will be much warmer, although thus far we have had no cause to complain, the thermometer not having registered below 16° at any time.
Our house is by no means a palace, nor do its interior fixings even remotely suggest luxury. We have two rooms, the smaller of which, measuring twelve feet by seven and a half, has been reserved for Mr. Peary and myself, while the larger, of not quite double the size, is used as the general “living-room,” besides affording sleeping-quarters to the boys. A dining or “mess” table, a few rude chairs, a bookcase, and the “bunks” built to the east wall, constitute the furniture, of which it can in truth be said there is no superabundance. The red blanketing which has been tacked all over the inside walls and the ceiling, seven feet overhead, imparts a warm feeling to the interior, and relieves what would otherwise be a cheerless expanse of boards and tar paper. Our stove in the partition-wall between the two rooms is so placed as to give a goodly supply of heat to the lowest stratum of the atmosphere.
The shell of the house is made of inch boards, lined inside and outside with two-ply and three-ply tarred paper, which is made to fit as nearly air-tight as possible. To the inside of the ten-inch rafters and posts we have nailed a lining of heavycardboard, which forms a support to the blanketing, besides making a complete inner shell of its own. Between the two shells there is free air space, which will greatly help to retain the warmth in the rooms.
A stone wall has been built around the house four feet away from it, and on it we shall store our boxes of provisions, and then stretch a canvas cover over to the roof of the house. Our corridor will thus be sheltered as well as the house, and even in the most inclement weather we shall be able to breathe pure air and have outdoor exercise. With the first heavy snow everything will be plastered over with this natural fleece, and cold though it may be on the outside, we hope to keep quite comfortable within.
Saturday, November 7. To-day has been reception day. We have to-night seventeen huskies in our camp, and I don’t know how many dogs; if I were to judge by the howling and yelping, I should say at least fifty. I have been under the weather for the last two days, but feel better to-night.
Sunday, November 8. We generally devote Sunday to sleep; the boys, except the watchman, turn in right after breakfast and sleep till lunch. We have a cold supper, which saves me the trouble of cooking Sunday afternoon. We usually have pemmican and cranberry sauce, salmon, hot biscuits, chocolate, and fruit. Arrotochsuah and his family moved into a snow-igloo to-day.
Monday, November 9. Mama’s birthday. My thoughts have been at home and with her all day, and I am sure shehas thought of me. I do not even know where she is. In my mind I have seen sister Mayde at work on something mysterious for the past week. I must try to put my mind on something else or I shall have a spell of homesickness. I placed a bamboo pole across the front of our bed and draped the two United States flags (one belonging to the National Geographical Society of Washington, and the other to the Philadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences)à la portièreacross the front; then on the wall just beside my place I have hung the photographs of my dear ones.
Frank.
Frank.
Frank.
Saturday, November 14. Very little worthy of note has happened this week. My daily routine is always the same; I take my coffee in bed, then get lunch for my family, take a walk afterward, usually with Mr. Peary, then sew or read, and at four o’clock begin to get dinner. Last Thursday Gibson initiated Frank into dragging a load of ice from the berg to the house. Yesterday was lovely and clear, and the full moon which we have throughout the twenty-four hours, made it as bright as day. Our walk to-day was to the berg, a mile distant (as measured by our newly finished odometer wheel), and return—the first long walk Mr. Peary has taken; his leg did not feelany worse for the trip, but was considerably more swollen at night. Frank to-day for the first time behaved very well in hauling ice.
Sunday, November 15. This has been a lovely day. How much I should like to take a peep at the home folks! To-night we have had the eclipse of the moon. It was first noticed about 7.30, and Mr. Peary watched it carefully, making observations with his transit and chronometer. About nine o’clock Arrotochsuah arrived from Netchiolumy,[3]on Barden Bay, accompanied by one of his sons and another young man. The first we immediately nicknamed the “Smiler,” and the other the “Villain,” owing to the expressions on their faces.
3. Erroneously called by most geographers Ittiblu.
3. Erroneously called by most geographers Ittiblu.
Tuesday, November 17. Yesterday was an exceptionally fine day, beautifully moonlit. The “Villain” of Netchiolumy has a sledge made of the boards which Dr. Cook traded for a tupic when the “Kite” stopped at the settlement in July. This morning Ikwa introduced a rather clean-looking native from Omanooy, a place this side of Akpani, on Saunders Island; his name is Kioppadu. Our sewing progresses slowly, Arrotochsuah’s wife, whom we had installed as seamstress, being too old to prepare the skins by the time-honored native method of chewing. Matt got supper to-night, and will from now until May I prepare all the meals under my supervision. This gives me more time to myself, besides not confining me to the house. It was no easy task for me to cook for six boys, and for such appetites.
Thursday, November 19. We have had our first real winter snow-storm to-day. The wind whistled, and the snow was driven into every crack and crevice. Just before noon Kayunah and family came; Makzangwa, his wife, is going to chew skins for us. They will live in the snow-igloo, having brought all their household effects with them; these consist of the soapstone blubber lamp or stove, a reindeer skin as a coverlet for the bed (which is merely a bundle of hay on some pieces of board given them by us), a few rabbit and gull skins for wraps for the feet, and a sealskin to put against the wall behind the bed. When these articles are put inside the igloo, their house is furnished.
Saturday, November 21. A clear day; the stars are twinkling and the air is delightful, but one must exercise to keep warm. Since Matt does the cooking, I take long walks every day, and find them very agreeable. We had a general house-cleaning to-day, and will have it now every Saturday. We have been obliged to dismiss the Eskimos from the living-room during meal-time, as their odor is too offensive.
Sunday, November 22. Kayunah came in this morning, and said that our coffee and biscuit made his family sick, and as they had no more seal meat they must go home. Mr. Peary gave them permission to help themselves to the walrus stacked up behind our house, and the Eskimo was satisfied. Ikwa and Kyo (Kioppadu) have gone over to the settlement of Igloodahominy, on Robertson Bay, after blue foxes.
Monday, November 23. It grows gradually darker every day. To-day at noon it was impossible to read ordinary print by daylight. Mr. Verhoeff went on the cliffs to look at his thermometer, and found that it read higher than those at Redcliffe. Ikwa and his brother returned about noon without foxes or game of any kind. We had a faint aurora this evening. On the whole I am very much disappointed in the auroras; I thought we should have very beautiful displays in the Arctic regions, but it seems that we are too far north of the magnetic pole.
Wednesday, November 25. The days are rather unsatisfactory, although I keep busy all day sewing, mending, rearranging my room, etc. When I sum up at bedtime what I have accomplished, it is very little. Mr. Peary and the boys are busily at work on some test sledges. This afternoon Annowkah and M’gipsu returned, bringing with them a twelve-year-old girl, named Tookymingwah, whose father was dragged under the ice and drowned a few weeks ago by an infuriated “oogzook” seal (Phoca barbata?) which he had harpooned. She has a mother and two sisters, who will be here soon.
Mr. Peary issued the Thanksgiving proclamation, and I have been busy getting things ready for the Thanksgiving dinner, which I told Matt I would prepare. Our cooking and baking is all done on oil-stoves; since I have only three ovens I baked my pies to-day, as I shall need all the stoves and ovens to-morrow. This forenoon I went out to ourberg, accompanied by Mr. Peary and my two Newfoundland dogs, after a load of ice. It is rather a novel idea to me, chopping ice from the stately icebergs and melting it for drinking and cooking purposes.
Thursday, November 26. Thanksgiving day, and all work is suspended. Before lunch I went down to Cape Cleveland with Mr. Peary to see how much daylight still remains toward the south. The sky was tinged with rose near the southern horizon, and the moon was just coming up from behind Northumberland Island. How strange it is that while we have no sunlight whatever, we know that at home they are having day and night just as usual! The temperature was 12½° F. Dinner was served at 7P. M.All the boys wore American clothing, and the room was draped with the Stars and Stripes.