CHAPTER XII.

_AN ESKIMO ENCAMPMENT._

Contrast to Delgezie’s fears the wind played no pranks with them that night, but after coquetting around all points of the compass, suddenly died out altogether.

Still it was with a grunt of disgust that he threw back his blankets next morning, for a heavy rime was falling and everything appeared white and cold to his gaze. Glancing up at that celestial clock—the North Guards—and finding its tail pointing well toward the south, he arose and set about building a fire. But the kindlings were coated with rime and he experienced much difficulty in persuading them to ignite. However after much patient coaxing the mass was at last got into a blaze, and, unceremoniously awakening his assistant with a dexterous kick, he proceeded to prepare breakfast. Thus rudely awakened Minnihak reluctantly drew himself from his warm robes—he had no objection to the intense cold, but a decided antipathy to early rising.

Hearing the men astir, Roy arose also and shook his bedding clear of the cloying rime before packing it away in his bag. To take a hasty breakfast, “ice” the _com-it-uks_, lash the loads, and harness the dogs was the work of fully an hour, for the morning was intensely cold, and everything unpleasantly chilly and icy to the touch; falling on exposed parts of the warm person, the rime at once became damp, then froze, clogging the eyebrows and eyelashes, and any hair on the face, with icy particles. It was one of the coldest mornings of that winter, and the tenacious clinging of the rime accentuated its chill.

Roy and Delgezie completed their disagreeable task of harnessing the dogs as quickly as possible, then jumped into camp to warm their benumbed fingers, while Minnihak followed more leisurely, smiling and unperturbed.

“_Ik-ki-mai_” (It is very cold), he said laconically.

Roy in his haste to lash the sled had inadvertently touched the head of an axe with his naked hand, thereby “burning” his fingers, and he now stood nursing them with a rueful countenance, making, because of this, a brief pause at the fire. But soon a start was made, and by the time the sun had thrown its cheering rays over the desolate wilderness, the trippers were well on their journey.

Their course for some distance followed the river, then branched off sharply and ran along a little creek, at the mouth of which Minnihak was seen to stop, turn aside, and walk across to a partly built _iglo_, which, from its appearance, Roy judged to be the one in which Oulybuck had hanged his father and brother, and when his dogs got abreast of it, he stopped them and walked across to view this primitive gallows.

The walls of this _iglo_ apparently remained as they had been first built, but the gruesome paraphernalia was missing, the crossbar and line being probably buried with the defunct Eskimos, and the block of snow from whence they had launched themselves into eternity thrown aside and drifted over. Deep imprints on the snow walls told that death had come only to the suicides after desperate struggles, and two distinct mounds of snow a little to one side and close together clearly marked the suicides’ graves. A fox had been digging at one of them, and the excavations had left the handle of a saw exposed to view; for the belongings of the deceased Eskimos had been buried with their bodies, after the custom of their race.

Shortly after leaving the ill-omened spot the travellers came in sight of Acpa’s encampment. This consisted of several _iglos_ grouped together with an unusually large one in the centre. The smaller _iglos_ were of the ordinary kind, but the big one bore unmistakable signs of its owner’s quality and importance. Not only was it larger than the others, but it had two protuberances instead of one: the one, as in the usual case, being the kitchen, as a wreath of blue smoke ascending from it testified; and as Acpa held the proud position of a trusted trader, the other without doubt was used by him as a storehouse, a room where the trader bartered with his brother Eskimos.

A number of dogs were running in and out of the _iglos_, and these at once gave the alarm; promptly several rough, shaggy figures dragged themselves through the tunnels leading to their various abodes and stood watching the approaching dog trains. The moment the _com-it-uks_ arrived at the encampment busy hands, with the characteristic readiness of the Eskimo to assist, caught at the dogs while others carried the bundles of merchandise away.

While the unharnessing and unloading were taking place still other Eskimos were engaged erecting a snow-house for Roy and the old Chipewyan, for the trader invariably despatched his Eskimo guide to sleep with a friend on these occasions.

Eskimo etiquette compelled the guest of honor to wait in Acpa’s abode till his own was pronounced ready for occupation, and in compliance with this rule Roy dragged himself through the low entrance, followed by a number of old men, women and children.

He got to his feet in the kitchen and went forward, picking his way among the skulking dogs, which, like the Irishman’s pig, were on terms of equality with their master, to the large room in the centre, and once there he gave a sigh of relief, for the air was less stifling, albeit the ventilation still left much to be desired.

_Kaip-puks_ were brought by members of the family and spread on one of the elevated platforms or bed-steads for Roy to sit upon, and he seated himself with an inward hope that his claim on their hospitality might be of the shortest duration.

The bundles of merchandise he had brought for Acpa were now lying in the small room adjoining, which, as he conjectured, was used specially for such purposes. The one in which he sat was large and dome-shaped, while several pieces of comparatively transparent ice had been let into the walls to afford the necessary light. The storehouse and kitchen were lit in like manner, but in the latter a few sticks of driftwood were smouldering on some flat stones, the smoke from these travelling to the roof in the most erratic manner, occasionally darkening the larger room in its wanderings.

A number of men and women soon sauntered in, and, squatting down at a little distance from Roy, sat silently watching him, while friendly smiles suffused their greasy faces; infants clothed only in a hood, or perchance a tobacco pipe, were produced with startling suddenness from the capacious hoods of the women’s coats.

Grouped among the throng were old and feeble Eskimos with the wrinkled faces, projecting cheekbones and lantern jaws peculiar to the very aged, and young wives with yellow complexions and bright, intelligent faces, their hair ornamented in a fashion peculiar to themselves, with a kind of pigtail formed from the hair over each ear neatly braided, the ends decorated with beads and deer-teeth, and bands of brass worn across the forehead. Sprinkled among the group were children of various ages, and probably of both sexes, though their costumes were so exactly alike that it was impossible to distinguish to which sex each belonged. Altogether this close scrutiny was oppressive, and when Acpa appeared some minutes later, Roy’s face brightened perceptibly. “_Ay-hoo_-_ee-la?_” (Finished?) he asked with the best attempt at indifference he could muster.

“_Ay-hoo_” (short for It is finished), replied the old man.

Roy slowly arose, intending to make a dignified exit, but even a fur-trader’s powers of endurance have their limits, and he stumbled quickly across the kitchen and precipitated himself through the low exit into the fresh air, and, with feelings of grateful relief, filled his lungs with the crisp oxygen. His confinement in the smoky _iglo_ had made him quite ill.

Entering the one erected for him by the hospitable Eskimos, Roy found Delgezie awaiting his return and supper prepared.

The old Indian was smiling. “They’re giving a dance,” he observed, glancing at the trader with eyes that twinkled.

“The deuce they are; and they’ll expect me to attend, I suppose,” grumbled Roy.

“Expect so,” said Delgezie drily.

Further comment was stopped by the appearance of Acpa, who approached with a face which radiated cheerfulness and goodwill. He squatted down and partook of the food handed to him with apparent relish, for intercourse with the white man had given him a taste for bread, tea and sugar, and even coffee.

After finishing the meal he proffered his unwelcome invitation in this wise: “The Innuit are happy,” pause. “They are glad to see you,” pause and a smile. “Innuit will dance,” another pause and smile, then ingratiatingly, “The ‘master’ will come?” Here an expansive smile spread over his heavy features and broadened into a laugh.

Roy received the invitation with an assenting nod, and forced a smile to his lips. He inwardly shrank at the thought of having again to enter Acpa’s odorous and smoky abode, yet he dissembled, for he knew that his presence at the dance was a thing of course.

Presently the soft tap-tap of a drum was heard, and Acpa got slowly to his feet, while Roy arose with assumed alacrity and followed his host to the scene of revelry.

Since the trader’s last visit a number of young men had returned from the hunt, and these were now seated in a circle eating ravenously of frozen meat, raw and unsightly.

For this occasion the _iglo_ was lit by candles of home manufacture, these being tapering pieces of dry moss and balls of grease. The bands of brass across the foreheads of the women shining brightly in the subdued light; the circle of hungry Eskimos devouring their food like as many ravenous animals; the shadowy, indistinct figures of the old folk seated on the outskirts of the throng, and the bright faces of the children watching the assembly with keen and earnest eyes, all combined to make the scene grotesquely weird. And the tap-tapping of the drum went steadily on.

When the circle of hunters had satisfied their rapacious appetites, it slowly dissolved. Then, snickering and joking, the women formed themselves into a circle and the ball was opened by Acpa, who stepped into the centre of the ring, carrying a drum in his hand.

This peculiar instrument consisted of a piece of parchment stretched tightly across a wooden hoop with a straight handle attached. The parchment was dampened before each performance, a tuning process as novel as simple. Acpa struck the rim of the drum, the top and bottom alternately, against a stick, held in the left hand, while shuffling his feet in a semblance of step dancing, then striking the drum in the centre a few times, he threw back his grand old head and gazed up at the top of the _iglo_—seemingly for inspiration—then fell to shouting, the shouts diminishing in volume as they increased in rapidity. “_Oh-ee, oh-ee, oh-ee, oh-ee-ee, oh-ee-ee, oh-ee-ee!_” This was the cue for the women’s chorus, and they now rocked themselves backwards and forwards, repeating in high-pitched voices: “_Ya-ya, ya-a-ya, ya-ya_,” while the old man composed his song as he went along. The sentiments were at times poetic. He first thanked the “master” for coming to see him and expressed a wish that he would be satisfied with his trip. Then he spoke of his work and the work of the other Eskimos of the encampment and many other things in the daily lives of himself and companions. Occasionally he lapsed into the monotonous _Ya-ya_ of the chorus, or fell to shouting _Oh-ee, oh-ee_, but the drum beating was continuous.

Afterwards several other men followed in this unique individual dance and then came the turn of the perspiring chorus to disport themselves. But the women’s _rôle_ was the exact opposite of that of the men, for they danced two at a time and at first were as silent as nuns, and they used no drum. Staring each other straight in the eyes they shuffled their feet, repeating queer words wheezily at the back of their throats, all accompanied by a peculiar indrawing of the breath. Many gestures accompanied this uncanny performance, such as pointing derisive fingers at each other, this meaning “I think very little of you,” pointing upwards and downwards (the significance of which seemed in doubt) and lustily slapping their cheeks and patting their breasts. Evidently this was a dance of endurance, but at last the final pair fell panting and exhausted, and, taking advantage of this respite, Roy hastened to shake hands with all present and to leave the _iglo_.

The gleam of dawn spread in one golden glow of morning, and the day rose radiant over the world. The _com-it-uks_ were “light” and the dogs travelled quickly, and the sun was still high when our little party got back to the camp they had made on the previous day, and, the wind being in the same direction as when the camp was constructed, it was ready for their use and their labors were thus lightened.

Supper over, Minnihak went to inspect a trap he had set when they were there before. Roy stretched himself on the outside of his bedding and lay dozing, while Delgezie occupied himself making “cakes” for the morrow. He had been employed in this manner for some time when he heard a slight crunching sound as of something moving over the snow. He thought it was the Eskimo returning from his quest and did not lift his eyes. But as the moments went by and no Eskimo appeared, he raised himself slowly and looked around. A large wolf stood before him on the very edge of the camp.

It was watching Delgezie with a wicked snarl that left bare its ugly fangs. The hair along its backbone stood up stiffly and its eyes gleamed threateningly. It looked fiercely hungry and Delgezie expected it to spring at him, but it stood motionless and the old man’s eyes searched the camp for a gun, but he could see no weapon, and then he remembered that the guns had been left outside. He uttered a grunt of indignation—that a lone wolf should invade his camp, seemingly as the aggressor, was, for the old Indian, a new experience. Keeping his eyes fixed on the wolf, Delgezie stealthily reached for a billet of wood. The animal watched him furtively; its long white fangs snapped and it crouched as if about to spring, but something in the old man’s unperturbed pose and steady eye seemed to awe the beast and hold it aloof. Delgezie felt cautiously for the billet, a particular piece of green wood which as he knew lay beside the fire. He dared not withdraw his gaze, and could only grope blindly.

Suddenly he uttered a terrific yell and came upright with a bound. Feeling for the billet, he had missed that which he sought and grasped one that was burning. At the sudden and unexpected loud noise the wolf wheeled quickly and fled away.

Delgezie’s yell brought Roy sharply to his feet.

“What in the world’s the matter, man?” he demanded.

“Wolf in camp,” replied Delgezie, nursing his injured fingers.

“Why didn’t you waken me? I could have shot it,” demanded Roy.

“Guns outside,” said the old man drily.

Whipping a revolver from his hip-pocket, Roy said: “I keep this little thing for occasions like that.” Then observing that Delgezie was in pain, he added, “But what have you done to your fingers?”

Delgezie explained, and his adventure caused much amusement during the rest of the evening.

On the following morning, Delgezie, with Minnihak as guide, left the track in order to get a load of meat from a cache some distance from the camp and off the direct route to the Fort, and sitting on the sled smoking idly while the dogs ran briskly to the sound of jingling bells, Roy returned to the Fort alone.