Part 2
“_August 20, 1900._—Ashore all day. Took a look at father’s house. It is very empty and very small. I also looked into the tents of the Eskimos. They are dirty places. Am so sorry not to find more children here. Only a boy nine or ten years old and a baby. They are going on the ship with us, so I guess I will have a good time. The ‘grown-ups’ thought it was very funny to see me jump rope with the ‘Bosun,’ and also to see me swing. They helped me pick flowers, which I have just finished pressing, and they took me to the glacier which mother says is a river of ice that flows down the mountain-side toward the sea just as if it were water, only it moves very slowly; not more than a few feet in a year. They tried to tell me about my father, but I did not understand them very well. I gave one of the women a white cup and she was very proud to have it. Early in the morning we hope to get away from here and take with us five grown Eskimos and two children. I wonder will we meet father soon.”
Poor little AH-NI-GHI´-TO thought that in a few hours at most the ship would cross Smith Sound and reach her first landing-place on the opposite shore, Cape Sabine, only thirty miles away, where a depot of supplies and coal would be landed for the use of those on board the “Windward” in case she should be crushed in the ice, while trying to get north, and her people forced to return to the shore in boats. But it took eight long days to reach this place, and during all of this time there was hardly a moment when the ship was not in danger.
Sometimes the great sheets of ice would hold the “Windward” in their grasp and not allow her to move an inch. Then the current would take her, together with the ice, and drift the whole southward. In this way the ship was often farther south at the end of the day than she was when she started to steam north a few hours before. At these times when the “Windward” was drifting she was perfectly motionless and AH-NI-GHI´-TO, together with Percy and some of the Eskimos, would climb over the side of the ship onto the Hoes and there they would play and slide on the smooth ice; and once Captain Sam lashed two Norwegian skates called “Ski” together, and she coasted down the slopes of the ice hummocks. This was great sport and helped pass the time.
There were other times that were not so pleasant when the heavy fields of ice would crush against the ship so fiercely that pieces would break off and pile up against her sides till some of them fell upon the deck, and the ship would groan and tremble with the pressure like a person in pain. At times the ship would force her way between mountains of ice so high that the boats hanging at the davits had to be hauled in to keep them from being smashed, and all the seamen climbed out and chopped away the overhanging pinnacles as fast as possible so that the rigging would not be cut or torn away.
At last, after eight weary days in the ice, the little harbour was reached. Here a family of Eskimos had been watching the ship during the last three days, fearing all the time that she would be crushed and sink. Now there was great rejoicing, for the Eskimos on the ship had not seen this family since early Spring, and all were eager to gossip.
This family consisted of a man, Accom-moding-wah, his wife, Ah-we-a, a son of seven years, Ne-ah-kwa, and a daughter of twelve, Ach-ah-ting-wah. The boy, though some months older than AH-NI-GHI´-TO, was still a perfect baby; his mother nursing him like an infant; but the girl was a playmate for AH-NI-GHI´-TO and they soon became friends.
VI
The “Windward” was run alongside of the rocks and made fast, and every one except a watchman intended to get a good night’s rest; the first in more than a week, for the next morning coal and provisions must be landed and this meant hard work for the men.
AH-NI-GHI´-TO and her mother too were glad go to bed. This they had not been able to do while pounding through the ice, for the big floes might crush the ship at any moment, and every one had to be ready to jump into the boats and leave her.
Now they had a fine bath and told Percy she need not call them for breakfast, as they wanted to sleep.
At five o’clock in the morning Captain Sam knocked on the cabin door and called to AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S mother to get up and dress herself and AH-NI-GHI´-TO as quickly as possible. A brisk wind which sprang up towards morning had blown the ship in against the rocks, and here when the tide went out she lay with one side on the rocks, with only a few feet of water under her, and with the other side, where there were no rocks, far down in the water. As no one knew how much lower the tide would fall, Captain Sam thought it best to get every one and everything of value ashore as quickly as possible, for fear the vessel would capsize and sink.
AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S mother awoke her. By this time the cabin floor was almost at right angles to what it should have been,—the slant so steep that it was impossible to walk on it.
AH-NI-GHI´-TO, still in her berth, was quickly dressed in her warmest clothes, and after putting her own clothing on, AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S mother gathered the important papers and as much warm clothing as possible into a bag; AH-NI-GHI´-TO begging all the time not to leave her dolly and her kitty. When this was done Percy took the bag, and Captain Sam and the steward helped them on deck. This was not very easy, as some of you may find out if you try to crawl up a board with one end on a barrel and the other on the ground. Again and again one or the other slipped back, but at last the deck was reached, and now all that could be done was to sit down and slide over the side into a boat held there by the sailors, for the water was on a level with this side of the deck, while the opposite side looked as if it were right overhead.
Although this was the 30th day of August, the snow was falling so fast that the shore, a few yards away, could hardly be seen. Thither the boat was rowed, and there AH-NI-GHI´-TO with her mother and Percy landed.
AH-NI-GHI´-TO did not realize that the ship was in great danger, and so her one thought was to have a good time. Together with the Eskimo girl Achatinǵwah and Percy the maid, she snowballed and made snow forts, which were shot at with cannon-balls made of snow; when tired of this she went off to explore a little valley where Achatinǵwah told her there was a lake.
They were gone about an hour, and when they returned AH-NI-GHI´-TO was much excited and said she had seen footprints of an animal, which Achatinǵwah told her were fox-tracks. She followed them for a short distance, when they were crossed by hare-tracks. These she followed up the side of the cliff, and all at once around the corner of a big boulder peeped the hare himself. He was sitting on his hind legs, his nose twitching as he sniffed her,—a fine, large fellow, snowy white all over except the tips of his ears, which were black. AH-NI-GHI´-TO thought he was tame like the little white bunnies at home, but as soon as she came near him away he scampered much faster than the children could follow.
At ten o’clock the good ship was once more afloat and out of danger but not quite upright yet. As AH-NI-GHI´-TO was very hungry by this time, all went on board. The steward had lighted a fire in the cabin stove and swept the water out of the cabin, but everything was still wet. Breakfast was prepared at once and soon every one was feeling better, but very tired. Getting up at five o’clock in the morning and being put out in a blinding snowstorm for five hours without anything to eat or drink, and without even a place where one can sit down unless it is on the snow-covered ground, is not at all pleasant.
The poor men who had been working waist-deep in the icy water were worn out and could do no more work that day.
Two days later all needed supplies had been landed and the “Windward” was ready to start north again. Captain Sam, who had been carefully watching the ice drift past the harbour day and night, now told AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S mother that a large field of ice had been pushed across the entrance to the harbor and shut the door, so to speak, on the ship, and nothing could be done.
If this field of ice should break up then the ship would be free to go on her way; but unless the wind broke it up or blew it away from the entrance, AH-NI-GHI´-TO and her mother with all on board would be prisoners for the winter.
This was a dreadful thing to happen, for no one had taken clothing enough to last so long a time. Thanks to AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S father, there was food enough for every one, such as it was. AH-NI-GHI´-TO had learned to eat many things that she thought she could never eat, and also to do without things that she had thought were necessary.
One morning AH-NI-GHI´-TO awoke and found it was September 12th. Then there was great rejoicing all over the ship, for this was AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S seventh birthday, and the fourth one spent in the Snowland.
She jumped out of bed to see what kind friends had given the “Birthday Man” to bring her, and was kept busy as a bee all day long. In her diary she wrote the story of the day.
VII
“_September 12, 1900_, and my birthday. I never expected to spend it in this country when I left home. Grossy promised me a party, but mother gave it to me here instead, and I have had a beautiful day. When I came into the cabin I found such a nice chocolate cake, with seven candles burning around it, and a doll, oh a beauty, all dressed in dotted swiss over pink silk with a pink sash and white stockings and white kid shoes. She is one of my prettiest children, and I have named her Lois, after a little girl I met in Sydney, and who was very kind to me. I also found a pair of doll’s real seal-skin slippers, a purse, a box of chocolates, and a two-and-a-half gold-piece. The sailors asked Captain Sam to allow them to hoist the flag in my honour and he did so. The men gave me three cheers when they hoisted it. Mother had the steward make a pitcher of hot grog and cut up a big cake, and then he and I took it around to all the men and gave them their share. At tea time I invited Captain Sam and the Chief Engineer to take tea with me. The supper-table looked very pretty, with the candles burning about my cake, and we had a jolly time playing games afterward, but oh dear, I could not help thinking every little while if only father were here how much nicer everything would be. I had nothing to give the Eskimos except some coffee and biscuit, which they like, and some candy which they don’t care much about, but they seemed pleased, especially with my doll. They thought it was alive because it had real hair and could open and shut its eyes.”
Achatinǵwah was AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S daily companion, and the two little girls had a merry time together. This little Eskimo girl’s father was dead. A walrus had pulled him into the water and drowned him. But her mother, Aweah, had another husband, who took care of Achatinǵwah. She had two real brothers and a stepbrother.
One of her own brothers was Ahnǵoodloo, who, besides being the “Captain” of all the Eskimos who worked for AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S father, was the husband of “Billy Bah,” the Eskimo girl who was AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S first nurse. She came to AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S home in Washington and spent a year with her and then returned to the Snowland.
Ahnǵoodloo was one of the only two left-handed men in the tribe, and he was the best hunter of all. He was very fond of AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S father and always stayed with him.
Achatinǵwah also had another brother, Wee-shá-kup-sie, who spent a year in New York City and returned to his country when AH-NI-GHI´-TO´S father went there the last time. So Achatinǵwah knew more about the ways of the “Kab´loonahs” (white people) than most of her tribe.
Her hair was always smooth and her face and hands clean when she came to play with AH-NI-GHI´-TO.
She wore yellow kamiks (boots) made of the tanned seal-skin, and these she rubbed with snow to clean them before coming on the ship. Her trousers, made of the skins of the blue fox and the white fox, she also rubbed with snow and beat with an ivory knife made for this purpose out of a walrus tusk, until they looked like new. Her kapetah (coat with hood), made of the fox-skins, too, she took off in the cabin, and her bird-skin shirt looked white and clean.
The days grew shorter and shorter, and soon the day came when the sun did not shine in the little harbour at all, and, looking to the south, the big, round, yellow ball could not be seen on the horizon. This meant that he was on his way south and would keep travelling away from the Snowland until the 21st of December. Then he would start back again, but not until the middle of February would he shine upon AH-NI-GHI´-TO and the ship again.
It was now settled that the “Windward” must stay in her icy bed during the coming winter and spring and part of the summer, and every one was busy making things as comfortable as possible; for it grows very cold after the sun leaves, and the north wind blows through every crack and cranny.
During these long months it was dark all of the time, except for the moonlight and starlight, which made deep black shadows on the snowdrifts and ice hummocks. These caused AH-NI-GHI´-TO to have many a tumble, because the ice seemed level where it was full of hollows and holes.
But Achatinǵwah and the two Eskimo boys came every day for AH-NI-GHI´-TO to go sliding and coasting with them, in spite of the cold and darkness.
Many curious things she learned these days, as this extract from her diary will show:
“Clear day. No wind. Achatinǵwah and I were out coasting from eleven to nearly one. The stars were very bright.
“Achatinǵwah told me all about the Eskimo stars. I know only one, the great Dipper. Achatinǵwah says the stars in this are a herd of reindeer in the sky. The Eskimos call it TOOK-TOK´-SUE. Then there are three other bright stars which are the stones supporting the lamp of an Eskimo woman up in the sky; and a hunter and his dogs after a bear, and lots more.
“I wish Father were here to tell me what we call them. When we came on board, Captain Sam said the thermometer on deck had been at seventy-two degrees below freezing all day.”
They never went far from the ship, so that they could run on board, into the warm galley (kitchen), where the steward, kind old Charley, was ever ready to give them a hot drink, and allow them to warm their fingers and toes, even if he did threaten to make mince meat out of them if they bothered him too much.
One day he said to AH-NI-GHI´-TO: “Why don’t you have a party on the ice? Get the youngsters to help you fix up a house, and I will help you with the supper.”
This was a great idea for the children, and at first they intended to build a real native snow igloo; but, as the grown Eskimos were too busy to help them, they soon found this was too much for them to do alone.
Then AH-NI-GHI´-TO went to the Captain and asked him to lend her one of her father’s tents, and have the men put it up for her out on the ice. When this was done, the children shovelled the soft snow up on the sides of the tent as high as they could reach. This kept the wind from blowing under the canvas into the tent.
It took them several days to do this and to furnish and decorate their reception room. Large boxes were brought from the ship and covered as tables; small ones were used as chairs. The walls were draped with flags, and a lantern was hung at each end.
While AH-NI-GHI´-TO wrote the invitations to an “At Home,” her playmates shovelled a path through the deep snow from the tent to the ship.
VIII
Just before it was time for the guests to arrive, Charley took out a steaming pot full of chocolate; three plates piled high with cake, cookies, and sandwiches. AH-NI-GHI´-TO came after some taffy she had made the night before, and last of all Charley took out an oil-stove, which he placed in one corner of the tent. “For,” said he, “it is all very well for Miss AH-NI-GHI´-TO and her young Eskimo friends to be out here with the temperature 70 degrees below freezing, for they are dressed in furs from head to feet, but the invited people would have the good things freeze in their mouths with no fire at all.”
Billy, one of the ship’s men, acted as butler, and the party was a great success.
The guests stayed as long as the eatables lasted, and then the Eskimos licked the cups and the crumbs, and amid shouts of laughter the dishes were brought aboard. But when Charley asked who would help wash up, every one was much too tired and sleepy.
The “Windward” would not have been taken for a ship now except for her masts and spars. For weeks the men had been cutting blocks of snow from the hard drifts and building a snow wall all around the ship, close to her hull and a few feet higher than her rail. At night water was thrown on this wall until it became solid ice, through which no wind could come.
From the top of this wall, across the ship to the other side, canvas was stretched as a roof, and this gave a covered place on deck, where AH-NI-GHI´-TO and her friends played when the wind howled and whirled the snow so fast that it was not possible to stand up against it.
The natives, too, as soon as they knew that they must spend the winter here, said they wanted to go ashore and build their own houses, for then they could keep much warmer with less fuel than on the ship. They were not used to so much room and did not feel at home in it.
Each family built their own igloo; the women working with the men. Achatinǵwah’s mother helped carry the heavy bowlders from far off for their igloo, while Achatinǵwah scraped them free of snow and helped to loosen those that were frozen down, by pounding them with smaller stones.
After enough had been collected a place was scraped free from snow and made level; and for this they were glad to borrow the ship’s tools, for it would take much longer to clear the spot with only a rude knife made from walrus tusk than it did with a large shovel.
At one end of the circular space Achatinǵwah’s father built a platform about a foot high.
The walls he put up, just as a stone mason would put them up, only he used turf which Achatinǵwah brought, instead of mortar, to stop the cracks. After the walls were three or four feet high the whole was roofed over. Usually this is done with large flat stones, but as Achatinǵwah’s father was in a hurry to get his family moved into the house he threw a walrus-hide over the top and held it down with heavy rocks to keep the wind from blowing it off.
The igloo was then thickly covered with snow, and the inside of it lined with seal skins.
The doorway, or entrance, was scarcely two feet high, and opened into a long, low passage-way which ended in a vestibule as high as the igloo itself. This passage-way and vestibule Achatinǵwah’s father built of snow-blocks.
The natives leave their fox-skin kapetahs (coats) in this vestibule if they are covered with snow, for if they took them into the warm igloo the snow would melt, and it would take a long while to dry the heavy fur garments.
After the skins had been put on the platform Achatinǵwah brought in two Eskimo lamps with which to heat and light the igloo.
These were cut out of soapstone by her father with his knife, and were shaped like our dustpans. She filled them with small pieces of blubber from the seal, and then placed dried moss across the straight side. This she lighted, and the heat from it melted the blubber and soaked it up, burning it like a wick. These lamps must be tended all the time, or the smoke from them would soon cover everything with a greasy soot.
Near the top of the igloo above the lamps, Achatinǵwah’s mother fastened a sort of lattice-work rack, made by lashing sticks together with sinew. On this the members of the family put their wet stockings, mittens, and shirts to dry.
Close down over each lamp she hung an oblong-shaped pot, also made of soapstone, in which the snow is melted for drinking-water. The Eskimos never use water for any other purpose. They had never heard of a bath until AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S father and mother came among them, and the most they ever did was to wipe their faces with a greasy bird-skin.
Achatinǵwah now helped her mother bring their stock of bear, deer, and seal skins into the igloo and spread them on the platform, and the family was settled for the winter.
Over the stone lamps Achatinǵwah’s mother cooked their food, and on the platform the entire family slept.
Days when it was too cold and stormy to go to the ship this platform was the playground of Achatinǵwah and her little brother, where they amused themselves with little figures of men and women, toy sledges and dogs, and canoes; bears, seals, foxes, walrus, and the other strange animals of the Snowland, carved by their father from the teeth of the walrus; or played “cat’s cradle,” making Toó-loo-ah the raven, Ter-i-a-níah the fox, Oo-kud´-ah the hare, and Ka-lil´-o-wah the great narwhal, with sinew strings. Sometimes they played “cup and ball” with a slender ivory pin and the bone of a seal with two holes drilled in it.
Then at night they snuggled warmly under the thick, heavy furs, hugging each other tightly as they heard their father and mother talking of “Tor-naŕ-suk” the “evil one,” or how “Nan-nook´-soah,” the great white bear, had carried off and eaten one of their relatives.
Very glad they were that the Oo-miak´-soah (ship) was so near, to frighten Nan-nook´-soah away; otherwise at every growl of the wind about their hut they would have thought he was pushing his great head with the little eyes, red tongue, and long teeth, into the entrance after them.
IX
After the stone igloos had all been built, the men built snow huts in which their dogs could find shelter from the fierce north winds, for, except when the wind blew, the Eskimo dog would rather curl up on the snow than be housed.
The sledges and harnesses were put on top of these huts, where the dogs could not reach them. When they get loose the Eskimo dogs chew up everything they can get hold of, no matter how well fed they may be.
The Eskimos on shore made quite a little settlement, and their visits to the ship made things lively on board.
AH-NI-GHI´-TO now spoke the Eskimo language perfectly, and every native was her friend. She dressed exactly as they did, except that she wore a woollen union suit instead of the bird-skin shirt. Often her mother looked for her several minutes before noticing that she was right alongside the ship with her Eskimo companions. But when her back was turned it was not an easy matter to know the little white girl among the fur-clad children.