CHAPTER XVI

“OOMIAKSOAK TIGALAY!”—THE SHIP HAS COME!

An Eskimo Messenger—“Oomiaksoak Tigalay” (the Ship has come)—Letters from Home—A Visit from Professor Heilprin—Distressing Possibilities—The “Kite” leaves for Smith Sound—Return of the “Kite”—Domestic Disturbances among the Natives—An Eskimo Woman and Girl disappear.

Sunday, July 24. At five o’clock this morning, before I was really awake, I heard a sharp, shrill whistle, different from the notes of the birds that usually awake me, and before I could quite satisfy myself that it was not a bird I heard it again, close to the tent, and also a footstep. “Kiny-ah-una” (who is there), I called. “Awangah, oomiaksoak tigalay” (me, the ship has come), was the answer. “Angwo” (not so), I replied. “Shagloo nahme awangah” (me not lie), he said, and with this a shaggy, black head was thrust into the tent, and a bundle of mail tossed to me. The next few hours are a blank to me, for I was devouring my mother’s letter, which took the shape of a journal that she had kept for me. A few words from Professor Heilprin tell me that he is at Redcliffe with a party and the old “Kite,” but he does not say who are in the party. Now if Mr. Peary only gets back safe I shall indeed be happy. All those dear to me have been spared, while there has been a great deal of sickness and death everywhere.

Monday, July 25. This morning the sun came out bright, and he has shone all day. After looking in vain for the inland ice-party, and also for a party from the “Kite,” until two P. M., I retired to the tent to escape the mosquitos. I told Matt he might go down to Redcliffe and see the “Kite” party if he chose, but he said he did not care for the walk, and would take the gun and go for a stroll. At 3.30, feeling hungry, I went out to see if I could see anything of him, in order to know whether I should cook for one or for two. Away off near the foot of the cliffs I saw a lone figure, which did not look like Matt, slowly making its way in the direction of the tent. I soon made out Professor Heilprin. He had walked fifteen miles to pay me a visit, and we chatted for hours. It did seem so good to talk with some one again who had been in touch with civilization. I feel as though I had been in another world. Both mother and brother urge me to come home, even if Mr. Peary has not returned from the inland ice by the time the “Kite” is obliged to set sail again for the sunny south, and the professor says his orders are to “bring Mrs. Peary back under any circumstances.” While I do not think there is the slightest doubt that my husband will be here before the latter part of August, and while I fully believe that if he is not here then he will never come, yet I could never leave while there was the faintest chance of his being alive. I told the professor just how I felt about the matter, and he said, “Well, we will see when the time comes.” My brother Emil writes that I should have “some consideration for my friends and relatives.” And what of my husband? He says further, “What good can you do Bert on the coast while he is on the ice?” Does he suppose that if Mr. Peary is alive he will stay on the ice the whole year round? And when he returns and finds he is too late for the “Kite,” will that not be disappointment enough, without finding that I, too, have deserted him? I know just how my dear ones at home feel, and I know, too, that they cannot long for me any more than I long for them. It will go hard to remain—harder for me than for them, for they will know that I am well and comfortable; and besides, they have friends and acquaintances, and intelligent and interesting employments and amusements with which to occupy their minds and time, while I have only a few white men and some uncivilized people, together with three months of darkness, to make my life pleasant. Not a very enviable existence, I am sure. As for cold, hardship, and hunger, that is nonsense. Of course, if I feel so inclined, I can go out and sit on an iceberg until I freeze to it, and let the wind and snow beat upon me, even starve myself; but my tastes do not run in that direction.

Tuesday, July 26. The “Kite” leaves to-day for Littleton Island, to be gone three or four days. When the professor left, at 2.30 A. M., Matt had not yet returned; I think he must have gone to the “Kite.”

Wednesday, July 27. Yesterday and to-day were bright, warm days, although the wind blew quite strong most of the time. Matt returned from the “Kite” yesterday morning, bringing with him a loaf of nice bread, a veal cutlet, and a flask of brandy sent by the steward of the “Kite.” Dr. Cook, with four Eskimos, came up in the “Mary Peary” this morning, bringing the rest of the mail matter with him. He also brought me more supplies, but at the same time urges me to return to Redcliffe with him.

Saturday, July 30. Once more back at Redcliffe. After considering the matter, I decided that Mr. Peary would wish me to look after things at our home, and although it was a great disappointment for me to leave before the return of the ice-party, I was forced to do it. There has been considerable excitement in our Eskimo settlement. Ikwa has beat Mané so badly that she cannot come out of her tent; her head is cut and bruised, and one eye is completely closed. We know of no reason for this peculiar conduct. Kyo has gone to Igloodahominy in his kayak, the first time during our visit that an Eskimo has ventured across the bay in a kayak. While he was out on a seal-hunt early this morning, Klayuh, his wife, and Tooky, her daughter, ran away. Kyo, it is said, had thrust a knife in Klayuh’s leg several times, and he has threatened to kill Tooky. He is now searching for the fugitives, but the whole settlement has conspired to throw him off the track. He has already been up to the head of the bay, and down as far as Cape Cleveland.

The “Kite” returned at nine o’clock yesterday evening, having penetrated into Smith Sound to a position opposite Force Bay, where it was stopped by the unbroken pack. Professor Heilprin came ashore immediately after, and introduced to me some of his companions. Dr. Cook, who had made a vain attempt to reach Ittiblu, returned at ten P. M. this evening; he found the gulf impassable owing to the large quantities of loose ice which had been detached from the glaciers, and literally choked the basin.

Thursday, August 4. I have lived through five days more of intense suspense. The Eskimos console me by talking of Mr. Peary as “sinnypoh” (dead); one of them yesterday told me that he had dreamt that only one “kabloona” (white man) would return from the ice. To offset these dark forebodings, and keep my spirits from sinking too low, I repeat a paragraph in Mr. Peary’s letter, which says: “I have no doubt I shall be with you about August 1st, but if there should be a little delay, it will be _delay only_, and not danger. I have a hundred days’ provisions.”

The weather continues exceptionally fine, clear, bright, and warm. Professor Heilprin, having determined to move his party to the head of the bay, preparatory to a search on the inland ice, the “Kite” heaved anchor at nine this morning, and is now lying opposite the point which I only recently deserted. By the professor’s kind invitation I joined the “Kite” party, and Matt, who has been my steady guardian since Mr. Peary’s departure, accompanies me.

Friday, August 5. The entire relief-party left to-day for Nunatak Cache, their object being to plant stakes seven miles apart as guide-posts on the inland ice. I remained on board the “Kite” all day, and shall retire early, if not to sleep, to rest.