CHAPTER XIITHE SLEDGE JOURNEY—(Continued)
From Tawanah’s Igloo to the Great Heilprin Glacier—The Little Matterhorn—A Wet Night—Ptarmigan Island—“As the Crow flies” for the Eastern Bastion of Herbert Island—A Nap in the Sunshine—Back at Redcliffe—A Busy Week of Preparation for the Start on the Inland Ice—Canine Rivals.
We unloaded our sledge, and, with Kudlah as our driver, continued the exploration of Inglefield Gulf to its head. In spite of Kudlah’s having spent the entire time at Tawanah’s in eating seal, we had scarcely traveled a mile before he said he was hungry for American kapah. When told it was not yet time, he turned his attention to the dogs again, but soon we saw that the dogs were having a go-as-you-please time, and on looking to the driver for the reason we found him sitting bolt-upright and fast asleep. We woke him, and to keep him awake I gave him some crackers to eat. They had the desired effect as long as they lasted, but as soon as they had disappeared off he went to sleep again, and I came to the conclusion that they acted more as a narcotic than a stimulant, and discontinued them.
Just before reaching the head of this great gulf we came to a nunatak in one of the numerous glaciers, shaped like theSwiss Matterhorn, and we named it the Little Matterhorn. We were in an Alpine landscape, but the more striking features of the European ice-covered mountains were here brought out in increased intensity. Arrived at the head of the gulf, we were confronted by one of the grandest glaciers that we had yet seen.
Never shall I forget my impressions, as, on this bracing April day, with the thermometer from 30° to 35° below zero, Mr. Peary and I, shod with snow-shoes, climbed over the deep-drifted snow to the summit of a black rock, destined in a few years to be engulfed by the resistless flow of the glacier, and from this elevated point looked out across the mighty stream of ice to the opposite shore, so distant as to be indistinct, even in the brilliant spring sunshine that was lighting all the scene. Looking up the glacier, the vast ice river disappeared in the serene and silent heights of the ice-cap. To think that this great white, apparently lifeless, expanse, stretching almost beyond the reach of the eye, is yet the embodiment of one of the mightiest forces of nature, a force against which only the iron ribs of mother-earth herself can offer resistance! As we stood there silent, a block of ice larger than many a pretentious house, yet but an atom compared with the glacier itself, pushed from its balance by the imperceptible but constant movement of the glacier, fell with a crash from the glacier face, sending the echoes flying along the ice-cliffs, crushing through the thick bay ice, and bringing the dogs, far below us, to their feet with startled yelps.
The glacier, which forms much of the eastern wall of Inglefield Gulf, has a frontage of about ten miles, and is the largest of the series of giant glaciers in which are here concentrated the energies of the ice-cap. North of it lie the Smithson Mountains, and farther beyond, a vast congeries of ice-streams which circle westward and define the northern head of the gulf. To the eastern sheet, upon whose bosom no human being had ever stepped, and on whose beauty and grandeur no white person had ever gazed, we gave the name of Heilprin Glacier, in honor of Prof. Angelo Heilprin, of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia.
On the upward voyage to Greenland we had passed numbers of glaciers, beginning with the great Frederikshaab ice-stream. I had seen the distant gleaming of the Jakobshavn Glacier, and after passing Upernavik we were never without a glacier in sight, and yet it was not until September, when Mr. Peary was able to get out in the boat, and we went to the head of McCormick Bay to see the inland ice-party off, that I came in actual contact with one of these streams of ice. About eight miles above Redcliffe, on the same side of the bay, there is a hanging glacier, which has peered at us past the shore cliffs ever since we entered McCormick Bay. This glacier is supported upon a great pile of gravel, looking like a railway fill, which gives it the appearance of being upon stilts. It was a peculiar experience to see the red-brown rocks and cliffs glowing in the sun, and this great vertical wall of blue ice standing out beyond them, with little streams of water tricklingdown from it, and occasionally fragments of ice breaking away and dashing down with a muffled, metallic sound; and more than this, to find the ever-constant friend, the Arctic poppy, growing actually beneath the overhanging walls of the glacier. The great glaciers, too, that surround Tooktoo Valley, with its green meadows and glistening lakes, will always remain with me an exquisite recollection.
Returning to our sledge, we made a direct line for our camp, which was reached after an absence of ten hours.
Wearied with our journey, we immediately prepared to rest, and selected a sheltered nook on the sea ice, where the snow was several inches deep, and where we were protected from the light breeze which blows almost constantly by a huge buttress of ice, part of the ice-foot. The memory of the delightful sleep of the night before, when we lay right out in the sunshine, helped me to hurry the sleeping-bags into place and crawl into mine without losing much time.
Tawanah came to me and asked if I would not like to have my kamiks and stockings put up on the rocks where the sun could shine on them and dry out what little moisture they might contain, and I told him to take them away. In what seemed to me only a few minutes, but what was actually four hours, I was awakened by some one grasping both sides of my sleeping-bag, evidently trying to stand it and its contents on end. The words “Don’t roll over; try to stand up as quickly as you can; the tide has risen above the ice,” rang in my ears. On looking about me I saw that I had been lying in about six inches of water and peacefully sleeping.
Fortunately I had a sealskin cover over my deerskin bag, and the water had not penetrated it; therefore my deerskin knickerbockers and flannel wrapper, which I always take off after I have pulled myself down in the bag, fold and place under me, were perfectly dry. My poor husband did not fare so well. He had folded his trousers, kamiks, and stockings and placed them under his head as a pillow, and of course they were soaking wet. Not having a cover to his sleeping-bag, the water had soaked through, and it was this that had wakened him.
After a time we managed to dry out, and, continuing our journey, reached our little island at midnight. As we approached the island numbers of ptarmigan were seen flying about the rocks, a circumstance which determined us to name the spot Ptarmigan Island. We secured a few of these beautiful, snow-white birds, and, after taking observations for position, proceeded on our course to Tawanah’s igloo, which we reached shortly after fourA. M.
While preparing the morning meal, I was the center of an admiring circle. Men, women, and children formed a perfect ring about me. Never had they seen such a stove, and never such cooking. They chattered incessantly, and plied me with so many questions that I began to despair of getting anything to eat. Finally I gave each a tin of coffee and some crackers, and this kept them busy long enough for me to eat my meal, and we then turned in.
We awoke about four o’clock in the afternoon, and at once began our exploration of the surrounding cliffs and the neighboringglacier, which Mr. Peary considered one of the first magnitude, and named, after the distinguished secretary of the American Geographical Society, the Hurlbut Glacier. It was nine o’clock before we were through with exploring, photographing, and making observations, and then we made a dash for the east end of Herbert Island.
Mr. Peary laid our course down the center of the gulf, and we were beginning to calculate the time when we should reach Redcliffe, when suddenly we encountered deep, soft snow, through which the dogs could not pull the loaded sledge with any of us seated upon it. There was nothing left for us but to get off and walk, or rather wade through the snow. After a few hours of this tiring work the dogs refused to go farther, and it was only with special coaxing and driving that any progress was made. When at last we reached Herbert Island we were almost as glad as the dogs to be able to rest. Redcliffe was still fifteen miles distant.
Mr. Peary and I spread our sleeping-bags down on the snow out in the brilliant sunshine, and lay down on them for a nap. We had not been asleep long when I awoke and found that Mr. Peary had arisen and was walking rapidly in the direction of the ice-foot. He was following an Eskimo who had shouldered a rifle, and my first impression was that the native had taken one of our own rifles from the sledge and was making off with it.
AN APRIL JOURNEY.
AN APRIL JOURNEY.
AN APRIL JOURNEY.
At Kyo’s call the retreating figure stopped short and turned back. He came directly to us, and we recognized him as Tahtara, the man at whose snow-igloo I had spent such a memorable night. He had been at Redcliffe, and was now out on a seal-hunt, with a companion, named Kulutingwah, who presently came dashing round with two fine-looking dogs and one of our sledges.
These dogs were the most affectionate Eskimo dogs we had yet seen, and by far the prettiest. They were large, powerful-looking animals, that dragged the sledge with three natives upon it through the soft snow as easily as if they had no load at all. They were the first dogs we had seen who were trained to obey their master’s words without the aid of the whip. When Kulutingwah left his sledge-team he did not have to turn the sledge over and stick the upstanders into the snow to keep the dogs from running away, but simply told them to stay there, and with a low, deep growl they would stretch themselves upon the snow and remain perfectly quiet until his return, in spite of the tempting pieces of seal meat which might be lying around in their vicinity.
After restowing our sledges we started homeward. Our dogs, like horses at home, seemed to smell the stable, and broke into a brisk trot, which they kept up until we reached Redcliffe, at nine in the evening, Sunday, April 24.
Dr. Cook, who had been left in charge, had done good work during our absence of a week. Quite a number of natives from Netchiolumy, Keati, and the snow village had arrived, and among them an unusual number of lady visitors, all willing to sew for the “Americans” for the small consideration ofa couple of needles. The doctor had set them to work on kamiks, fur mittens, fur stockings, and fur trousers, and they had worked like beavers all the week, while the men had put in their time hunting, and a goodly number of seals were added to the store of dog-meat.
Musical Dogs.
Musical Dogs.
Musical Dogs.
We were now in possession of twenty-two good dogs, the pick of all the dogs in the tribe, and Mr. Peary felt that the success of his long sledge journey was assured. Every pack of Eskimo dogs has its leader. If a new dog is added to the pack a fight takes place at once between him and the leader to determine his position in the team. Now, up to this time a great white shaggy brute, from Cape York, whom we called Lion, on account of his gray mane, had been the canine king of Redcliffe. With the arrival of Kulutingwah’s fine dogs there came a change. Lion and his first lieutenant, a dog marked very much like himself, at once charged upon the new-comers, evidently expecting to thrash them into subjection as easily as had been done in the case of the other dogs, but he, for once, was doomed to disappointment; although the fight raged fierce and long, poor Lion was vanquished, and forced to resign his position as king in favor of the larger of the new-comers, whom we called “Naleyah” (chief).