CHAPTER XXGREENLAND REVISITED
Along the Labrador Coast—Strange Passengers on the “Falcon”—Holsteinborg and Godhavn—The Quickest Passage of Melville Bay—Meeting with Old Friends—No Tidings of Verhoeff—Establishing Ourselves at Bowdoin Bay—Deaths among the Eskimos—A Rich Walrus Hunt—Smith Sound and the Northern Ice-pack—Polaris House—Departure of the “Falcon.”
Anniversary Lodge, Bowdoin Bay, Greenland, August 20, 1893. The reader who has followed me through my Arctic experiences of 1891–92 may be interested to know how we found our Eskimo friends upon our return to them after an absence of nearly a year.
On July 8 the steamship “Falcon,” carrying north the members of Mr. Peary’s new Arctic expedition, left Portland, and headed for St. John’s, where we landed on the 13th. We had with us a conglomerate cargo, including, in addition to the ordinary paraphernalia of an Arctic expedition, eight little Mexican burros or donkeys, two St. Bernard dogs, the Eskimo dogs which Mr. Peary had brought down from Greenland, and numerous homing pigeons, kindly presented to us by friends interested in the expedition. At St. John’s we added a fewNewfoundland dogs, and then proceeded north along the Labrador coast, touching at several of the missionary stations, where we obtained about thirty dogs from the Eskimos. It was a pitiable sight to see how famished these poor Moravian missionaries were for news from the old as well as the new country. They have direct mail communication with Europe only once a year.
I was told that although they have only three months in the year when frost is out of the ground, yet they all cultivate small gardens, and the most delicious dish of stewed rhubarb that I ever tasted was prepared from a bundle sent to me by one of the missionaries. It was interesting to note that while the appearance of the Labrador Eskimos is very similar to that of the natives of South Greenland, yet their mode of dress is different in both pattern and material. The undershirts, instead of being made of the skins of birds, are made of blanketing, and instead of being the same length back and front, are fashioned with a long tail; over this is worn a garment of the same pattern, made of drilling. The trousers are also of woven material. Of course this was their summer costume. The women all wore blanket skirts, and had woolen shawls about their shoulders.
After following the coast of Labrador for ten days, we headed across Davis Strait for Holsteinborg, on the Greenland shore. It took us about twelve hours to steam through the stream of ice which was flowing southward, but only once did the “Falcon” have to go astern in order to move a pan ofice and make a passageway for herself. Steadily she steamed on, butting against the cakes and floes until her timbers quivered and creaked. At last we were in clear water again, and then our vessel fairly bounded over the waves.
Arrived at Holsteinborg, we found a pretty, clean little village. There are more wooden houses here than at Godhavn, and altogether the place looks more thrifty. We found the governor absent, but the assistant governor, a young Danish officer who spoke a little English, did the honors, and he procured twenty-three dogs from the natives for us. Among other attentions, he sent to me a basket of radishes, fresh from his garden.
Business completed, the “Falcon” steamed north for Godhavn. On our arrival at this little hamlet we found everything apparently unchanged, but, to our great disappointment, our pilot informed us that Inspector Anderssen was absent on a tour of inspection, accompanied by his daughter, and that Governor Joergensen and family had gone to Denmark. We found Mrs. Anderssen as rosy-cheeked and as youthful as when we first saw her. She made our visit very pleasant, rounding it off with one of her delightful little dinners on the evening of our departure. We requited her hospitality by presenting her with various kinds of fruit—pineapples, lemons, oranges, and a watermelon. The natives expressed great pleasure on seeing us, and old Frederick, who had accompanied Mr. Peary on the ice in 1886, after shaking hands with me, said, “Very gude, you look all samee,” rubbing his hands over his face andthen pointing to mine to show me that I had not changed in looks since last he saw me.
Our next stopping-place was Upernavik, where we remained just long enough to pick up a few dogs, after which we put in at Tassiusak, the most northerly inhabited spot in the world belonging to any government. This place boasts of but a single wooden house. We here still further increased our stock of dogs, and then left. The next day we revisited the Duck Islands, but this year the sport did not compare with that of two years ago, when the birds were so plentiful that one could hardly walk without fear of stepping on them. This year it was a month later in the season, and not only were the young ducks hatched, but the old mother ducks were out teaching the ducklings to swim, and the islands consequently were all but deserted. I devoted my time to the gathering of down for the bedding in our Arctic home, and secured about thirty pounds.
We now headed for the ever-dreaded Melville Bay, my first experience with which I shall never forget. We were then three weeks in crossing, and it was during that time that Mr. Peary had the misfortune to have his leg broken. This time everything looked favorable; we had no fog, and there was no ice in sight from the crow’s-nest. Captain Bartlett was determined to break the record in the crossing of this water—thirty-six hours—on this his first voyage to the Arctic regions. In twenty-four hours and fifty minutes we reached the Eskimo settlement at Cape York, Melville Bay behind us and still no ice to be seen.
At this settlement, where formerly so many natives lived, we found only three families, all of them strange to us; they could tell us nothing about our acquaintances in the tribe, not having seen any of the inhabitants to the north of them since the time we left McCormick Bay. We pushed on along the Greenland coast until we rounded Cape Parry, and then steamed into Barden Bay, stopping at the Eskimo village of Netchiolumy. Here, too, instead of finding about sixty natives, as was the case a year ago, we found only two families. Mr. Peary with two men went ashore at once, and before their boat reached the land I heard one of the natives shout “Chimo Peary,” and saw him dance up and down for joy. On his return Mr. Peary informed me that the natives were Keshu,aliasthe Smiler, and Myah, the White Man, with their families. They were wild with delight, and begged to be allowed to accompany us to the site of our new house and pitch their tents beside it. They were stowed with all their belongings into Mr. Peary’s boat, and in a short time both families with their houses and their chattels were on board the “Falcon.” They gave us all the news and gossip of the tribe. Naturally, we first questioned them about our lost companion, Mr. Verhoeff. There never was a doubt in our minds that Mr. Verhoeff lost his life in crossing the glacier at the head of Robertson Bay; but his friends at home took a different view of the matter, and were confident that we would find him alive and well. These natives say that nothing has been seen or heard of him, and they hesitate to speak of him, as they never speak of theirdead. Mr. Peary thought perhaps some article of his clothing had been found by the Eskimos that might throw some light on the disappearance of our unfortunate associate; but nothing whatever has been found. We next inquired about our Eskimo friends, and were grieved to hear that the little five-year-old, bright-eyed, mischievous Anadore, daughter of our henchman Ikwa and his wife Mané, had died in the early spring. We learned that Redcliffe House had been destroyed by a few of the natives, led on by the famous angekok, Kyoahpadu, and that he had also destroyed the provisions which were cached at Cairn Point by Mr. Peary.
The Cliffs of Karnah.
The Cliffs of Karnah.
The Cliffs of Karnah.
We arrived at our destination, at the head of Bowdoin Bay, on August 3d, without any difficulty, the ice having almost completely left the bay and sound. The Sculptured Cliffs of Karnah, forming the cape of Bowdoin Bay, stood out sharp and clear in the early morning sunlight, while the towering redCastle Cliffs frowned down upon the bay from the opposite cape.
The site selected for our new home is only a few feet from where we pitched our tent last year when engaged in the exploration of Inglefield Gulf, and where, amidst a furious rainstorm, we celebrated our wedding anniversary. As we shall celebrate at least two more such anniversaries here, we have christened our new home “Anniversary Lodge.” The great cliff which mounts guard over us Mr. Peary has named Mt. Bartlett, in honor of our gallant young skipper, Captain Harry Bartlett, of St. John’s. Our snug and picturesque harbor is to be known as Falcon Harbor, named after the little bark which brought us here in safety, and which is the first ship to anchor in these waters.
The day after we dropped anchor in Falcon Harbor we were visited by five of our former Eskimo acquaintances, who had paddled at least twenty-five or thirty miles in their kayaks on seeing the ship pass their settlement. Two of them, Kulutingwah and Annowkah, were residents of Redcliffe, and it really seemed like meeting old neighbors, although I must confess that they appear even dirtier than they did a year ago. Annowkah told me that his wife, M’gipsu, who was our most skilful seamstress, was ill; but it is impossible to get these people to talk much about their sick, and so I was unable to find out what really ailed the poor woman.
Our Eskimos stayed with us a few days and assisted us in landing our supplies. They were vastly amused at the burros,which they persist in calling “big dogs”; and I can hardly blame them, for my St. Bernard dog is almost as large and tall as some of these little animals. After the provisions were all ashore, each native took a load of about fifty pounds on his back and carried it to the ice-cap; but this was the last straw, and every man decided that he really must return to his family at once.
On August 12, the work on the house being well advanced, Mr. Peary decided to make a trip after walrus for dog-food, intending to proceed as far as Smith Sound, if possible. It takes quite a little pile of meat to feed eighty-three Eskimo dogs. Accompanied by the two natives, Keshu and Myah, we started for Karnah, the nearest settlement, where we had intended to pick up one or two additional hunters; but on reaching the place we were shocked to hear that M’gipsu had died “two sleeps ago.” Mr. Peary went to Annowkah’s tent, and there sat the bereaved husband, with his sealskin hood pulled over his head, looking straight before him, saying nothing and doing nothing, apparently knowing nothing of what was going on about him. It is the custom with these people to act in this way for a certain length of time after a death, and then they desert the hut or tent in which the death has taken place, and it is never again occupied. M’gipsu’s little six-year-old boy, whose father died when he was very small, also sat in the tent all huddled up in one corner. Poor little fellow! I do not know what will become of him now, for it is an open secret that his stepfather, Annowkah, does not like him.
As we proceeded up the sound we saw the cakes of ice thickly sprinkled with walrus, which had come out of the water and were taking a sun-bath. The boats were lowered, and the men started after them. In a few hours we had twenty-four of the monsters on board. Their average weight was estimated at not less than fifteen hundred pounds. There were several cold baths taken by the hunters, and some narrow escapes, but nothing serious occurred, and we continued on our course, heading for Cape Alexander. Once around the cape, we steamed half-way across the sound toward Cape Sabine, where we were stopped by the ice-pack, which stretched in an unbroken plain as far as we could see. Turning back, we visited the site of the Polaris House, where a portion of Captain Hall’s party wintered after the “Polaris” was wrecked. We picked up a number of souvenirs in the shape of bolts, hooks, hinges, even buttons and leaves from books. A quantity of rope was found on the border of a little pond just back of where the house stood, and it seemed to be in a state of perfect preservation. We also stopped at Littleton Island, and on the adjoining McGary Island some of the party indulged in a little shooting. A few ducks and guillemots were shot; four additional walrus and an oogzook seal were also obtained in this vicinity. The weather then became thick and a strong wind sprang up, which put an end to the sport.
All night we steamed toward Hakluyt Island, but on reaching it we could not make a landing on account of the gale. We lay in the shelter of the cliffs of Northumberland, andwhen the storm abated steamed along its shore, and, crossing Whale Sound, entered Olrich’s Bay, the scenery of which surpasses that of any of the other Greenland bays that I have seen. Our party scattered at once in search of reindeer, which we were told were numerous here, and in a few hours we had seventeen on board ship.
Our house is up, and promises to be very cozy. The good ship “Falcon” sails for home to-morrow, taking with her the last messages which we can send our dear ones for some time.
Everything points to the success which Mr. Peary hopes for. What the future will bring, however, no one can tell.