Part 4

“_July 16._—Fine day. Wind blowing hard in the evening. After dinner mother and father and I went ashore, and I pinned some more pictures on the walls of father’s room and his dining-room. When I got through we went to the lake, where I spent some time sailing my boats and digging in the water among the rocks. About five p. m. my feet were very wet and we started for the ship. We saw her driving away from the shore. The wind was blowing a gale so that we could hardly stand up against it. But the ship sailed off out of sight. We waited and ‘shivered our timbers,’ but she did not come back, so we went to father’s house and a fire was made at once. Mother took off my wet kamiks and stockings and I put on a pair of father’s socks. We had supper in regular picnic style. A box on father’s trunk was our table, a paper on it was our cloth, beans and corn in the can, coffee we drank out of beer-mugs, and biscuit galore made our hearty supper.

“We were just beginning to plan how we should spend the night, when ‘hoot’ went a whistle, and looking out of the window we saw the old ship in the harbour. The wind was not blowing so hard now, so I put on my kamiks and we went aboard. Here we learned that the ‘Windward’ had actually been blown from her fastenings, and the Captain had to steam out to keep her from going on the rocks.

“To-night I feel as if I had been on a picnic.

“We leave here in a few minutes for Etah, and to-morrow I am going to have a day with father and mother among the bird cliffs near Etah.”

XIV

“_July 17._—Fine day with a little wind. Arrived at Etah this morning. After dinner I started ashore for the Eskimo tents with mother and father. We had not gone far when we were overtaken by one of father’s Eskimos with sledge and dogs. We all hopped on, and away we dashed, over the ice and through the pools of water until we came around the corner of the cliffs. Here we saw hundreds of little birds called ‘Little Auks’ perched on the rocks. Father said if we could get ashore we might find some eggs, as these birds lay their eggs among the loose rocks, without making a nest. Each bird lays one egg only. After quite a little trouble we reached the rocks and began to look for eggs. I found the first one. After finding a few more we went on to the tents. At them we found that all the men had gone out to catch ‘Little Auks,’ so we went to the bird place. Here the rocks were actually covered with the birds. How they chattered! They would fly so close over our heads that we could see into their little black eyes. One bird was marked exactly like the others. They have black heads, necks, backs, and tails. Their breasts are white. Their wings are black with a few white feathers in them. They have black feet and legs. The men hide among the rocks. They have a net on the end of a long pole. They take hold of the end of the pole and throw the net back and forth as the birds fly to and from the rocks. In this way the old men who cannot hunt the walrus or the bear support themselves and their families. The women and children help. Every Eskimo wears a shirt made of these skins, and it takes from seventy-five to one hundred for each shirt. We found a few more eggs here.

“On our way down to the shore I picked many kinds of flowers. When we reached the ice we saw our team of dogs running away with our sledge. But an Eskimo who was just starting for the ship kindly took me on his sledge. The Eskimos can hop off and on the sledge while the dogs are running. I tried to do it, but once I fell in the ice-cold water and got very wet, and that was enough for me.”

Another trip was made to the old winter home late in July and more meat landed.

August 1st the “Windward” anchored off Etah again, and while awaiting the coming of the ship from home AH-NI-GHI´-TO learned to paddle about in an Eskimo kayak.

Sunday, August 5th, while AH-NI-GHI´-TO and her parents were below in the cabin they heard the Eskimos shouting, “Oomiaksoah!” “Oomiaksoah!” and hurrying on deck they saw a ship just rounding the point.

AH-NI-GHI´-TO was much excited because she thought she saw her uncle on board, but as the new ship drew nearer she found it was a stranger.

The name of the ship was the “Erik” and she brought many letters from home to AH-NI-GHI´-TO and her father and mother.

In one letter was the sad tidings that AH-NI-GHI´-TO would never see one of her grandmothers again. This grieved her very much, and she wanted to go home at once for fear others would be gone before she could get there.

The “Erik” was a much larger and stronger ship than the “Windward,” and AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S father said that the “Windward” should wait here while the “Erik” took him with his party across the now ice-filled Smith Sound and landed him at his winter house.

AH-NI-GHI´-TO, her mother, and Percy went on board the “Erik” together with her father and his party, that they might be with him as long as possible.

Charley, the steward, was going to stay and cook, and AH-NI-GHI´-TO told him to be sure and take care of her father.

After fighting with the ice for four days the “Erik” was still twenty miles south of Cape Sabine, and there seemed little chance of getting any nearer.

AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S father then said all his party and dogs and meat, with some provisions, should be landed here, and he would work his way to his house later in the season.

Two nights before, the old “Erik” had a narrow escape from being crushed between a heavy floe and the straight, hard walls of a glacier face, against which the ice had driven her.

August 29th, AH-NI-GHI´-TO and her mother said good-bye to “dear old dad” and to Charley, promising to come up on the ship next summer, and father in turn promised that he would return home with them.

The home voyage on the “Erik” was made in two weeks, landing AH-NI-GHI´-TO in Sydney the day after her eighth birthday, September 13th, in time to catch the only train of the day for home.

Two days later she was in the home of her grandmother, but as that dear one had been called to another home, AH-NI-GHI´-TO did not care to stay long, and the next day she and her mother went on to New York where uncle was waiting for them.

With him they left for Grossy’s home in Washington, where they arrived late at night and found every one asleep. It did not take long to rouse the household, and there was great rejoicing, for they had not seen their “Snowbaby” for fifteen months, and she had so much to tell that it seemed as if no one would go to bed that night.

Every one felt very sorry that AH-NI-GHI´-TO did not bring her father home with her, but they were glad that she left him well, and that he had promised to come home next year.

AH-NI-GHI´-TO went to school at once and found to her delight that, because she had played at school with mother during the past winter, she was now able to take her place with her little classmates who had been going to school all the time she was in the Snowland.

When July came, AH-NI-GHI´-TO and her mother once more boarded the “Windward,” with good old Captain Sam in command, and sailed for the country of the iceberg and the midnight sun again.

When AH-NI-GHI´-TO returned from this voyage the next September she was nine years old, and instead of sending her diary to her Grossy, who was still in Europe, she tried to write the story of her summer in the Snowland in a long letter to her.

XV

NEW YORK CITY, _September 20, 1902_.

MY DEAR GROSSY,—Here we are back again, and father is with us. But I will begin at the beginning of my trip and tell you all about it.

July 21st mother and I reached Sydney, and the next day at eight o’clock in the evening we steamed away on the “Windward.” A new house had been put on the ship, and we had a suite of rooms in it which made it very nice and comfortable.

I could run on deck any time I liked, without being afraid of being thrown downstairs, because there were no stairs. Mother let me wear boys’ clothes, and I liked it ever so much.

Captain Sam was just as kind to me as last year, and I had a fine time. We made no stops on the way, but just cut a bee line for father’s house. Early on the morning of August 5th we were so near to Cape Sabine, where father’s house is, that we could see the people running about on the rocks, but we could not tell whether they were Eskimos or whites. Oh, but I was excited.

At one time I thought I saw father, then I thought I didn’t, and poor mother just stood and looked through the glasses and said nothing except, “If I see father I will tell you.” Well, as we got nearer we could make out Matt, then Charley, then some of the Eskimos, but not until we were almost at the landing did we see father. There he stood, twice as tall as any one else, and we had not seen him because he had on light kamiks, white bear-skin trousers, and gray shirt, and he looked the same colour as the rocks behind him.

I thought we would never land, but at last, father swung himself on board, and I was in dear old dad’s arms, hugged up tight. Of course now I was anxious to go ashore and see Charley and Matt and Koodluk´too and “Cin,” my dog that I left in Koodluk´too’s care. “Billy Bah” was there, too, father said, and they were all waiting to see me. We all went ashore after father had said “How do” to every one on board. We found father’s house as neat and tidy as possible, and mother teased Charley, saying she knew he had been “house cleaning” ever since he saw the smoke from the “Windward;” but he said he kept it this way all the time. He then said, “You come with me, Miss, and I’ll show you how I’ve been thinking about you.” The first place he took me was on top of the house, and here in a large box with wire netting across one end he had four of the dearest bunnies I ever saw.

They were gray on their backs, but snow-white on the breast and head, and Charley said when they were grown they would be white all over; that when Koodluk´too found them for me, they were no longer than kittens, and as gray as rats, but as they grow older they shed the gray coat and become real white. And you must know they are mine, and Charley has taken care of them for me. All this time Koodluk´too, who was standing by, was asking me every minute to come with him; he wanted to show me something.

After feeding the rabbits some willow, which they are very fond of, I went with him, and what do you think he showed me? A pair of the loveliest pups, and my own old “Cin” is the mother of them. “Cin” knew me too; she licked my hands and face and was as glad to see me as I was to see her and her dear babies.

I could have stayed with them all day, but Charley called, “Come on now; there’s more yet to be seen.” Together we went to a funny-looking place, built up of boxes and wires, and in it was the woolliest black calf, with long hair over its forehead and hanging over its eyes. When Charley said, “Come here, Daisy,” it ran to him and pushed against him until I thought it was butting him, but he said, “She just wants her bottle;” and he told Koodluk’too to get the bottle out of the house. When Koodluk’too came back with it the calf acted just like Mrs. S’s baby when he is hungry and his mother shows him the bottle. It was too cute for anything.

Charley told me that Daisy too was mine, and he hoped I would be good to her, for she had been his bottle baby for over two months. Some of the Eskimos brought her back from a musk-ox hunt where her mother had been killed. Charley said I might feed her when she came aboard, and then she would follow me just as she did him. I am glad she hasn’t such horns as the big Musk-oxen.

Many of the Eskimos had died since we left them last year, and all that stayed with father were in a hurry to get over to the Greenland settlements and see their friends. Before I had half time enough to visit all our old-time play-houses with Koodluk´too and “Billy Bah,” father had everything on board and was ready to be off. I hated to say good-bye to this place because I had had some very good times here and would never see it again.

First we stopped at Etah, where Koodluk´too and “Billy Bah” and I went ashore and gathered bags full of grass for Daisy and arms full of willow for the bunnies, while the Eskimo men were out after birds.

After dinner Charley said he would help me take Daisy ashore where she could crop the grass and have a run, for she was not very fond of being penned upon the ship. You should have seen her look round for Charley and bellow when he hid behind the rocks.

After leaving Etah we visited all the places where Eskimos were living, and father gave them presents and said good-bye to them.

The natives who had been with father, about fifty of them, said they wanted to live in Academy Bay at a place called Kang-erd-luk´-soah, so the “Windward” steamed there and landed them with their belongings. Most of them had no seal-skin tupics (tents), and these father gave tents of canvas.

While they were putting them up Charley got one of father’s tents and put it up too, and we used to go ashore with Daisy and get our lunch and stay all day, letting her browse and scamper about.

When the tents were all up father gave the natives food enough to last them through the winter except meat. He then told the men that they should come aboard the “Windward,” and he would hunt walrus with them until they had enough for themselves and their dogs for the winter.

While we were on this hunt, one evening we were going to anchor for a sleep (because you know there was no night; the sun shone bright all the time).

Father and Captain Sam had both come in off the deck when the old ship went “bumpty bump.” We had run aground. Such a time as we had trying to get the “Windward” afloat! She slid away over on one side and everything in the cabin tipped over, and we did not get away until the next evening. I was scared. I thought we should have to stay here all winter.

After we had a hundred or more walrus we steamed back to Kang-erd-luk´-soah and put them ashore. Then father sent some of the natives to hunt deer, so we would have fresh meat on our home trip. The three days they were gone I just lived on shore with my calf. Of course I did not forget to feed my pups and the bunnies too.

I gave “Cin” to Koodluk´too because mother said I had no place to keep her at home. The calf, and the bunnies, and the pups, father says will be kept in the New York Zoological Garden. One day father had the Eskimo women sing into the phonograph, and then made the phonograph sing their song back at them. You ought to have heard them laugh.

“Billy Bah” and Ahng´oodloo wanted to come home with me, but mother would not let them. Ahng´oodloo is very fond of father, and when he found he could not go back with us he took “Billy Bah” up on the mountain so they would not have to say good-bye. All the natives felt sad to have father leave them, but after we had all the venison we needed we steamed away. Poor old Koodluk´too felt very badly, and so did I.

I was kept busy caring for my pets on the way home, and one morning I found one of my bunnies dead. He had been killed by one of the others in a fight. They are all white as snow and perfect beauties.

We stopped among the west side Eskimos at a whaling station. I didn’t like the looks of these natives at all. I am sure they are not as kind as father’s people. The babies are not nearly as pretty. Their dress looks different too. They have funny long tails to their coats, and the women wear dirty calico skirts over their fur trousers.

The carpenter had to make Daisy’s pen higher before we reached Sydney because she had grown so much. The puppies too have grown and are as playful as kittens. But you must hurry home and see them yourself. I have much more to tell you, but can’t think of it now.

With much love YOUR SNOWBABY.

P. S. Oh, I forgot to tell you, Captain Sam taught me how to turn the wheel, and let me steer the “Windward.” I can “Steady” and “Port” and “Hard Over” just like the sailors.

THE END.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. 2. Retained anachronistic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.