A BOAT INCIDENT.

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CHAPTER VII.

Boat Incident.—Life hanging on a Shoe-string.—Courage of Esquimaux Boys.— Author's Escape. Decomposed Rocks.—Tes-su-win.—Arrival of the Georgiana.— Author's Sickness and Recovery.—Attention of the Natives.—Independent Character of the Esquimaux.—Deserving the attention of Philanthropists.—A fearful Gale.—The Rescue and the Expedition Boat wrecked.—The Georgiana on Shore. —The George Henry in great Danger.—Gale abates.—The Georgiana got off the Rocks undamaged. She departs for Northumberland Inlet.

The incidents connected with my every-day life for some time at this period, though never without novelty to myself, would, I fear, seem to present a sameness of character if too often brought forward in the disjointed form in which they occurred. I will, therefore, occasionally throw together several matters that refer to the same subject, though scattered over the next two or three weeks.

Of these not the least interesting to me was the native habits and customs as displayed in their beautiful villages. I was never tired viewing them, and at every opportunity was on shore among their tupics—summer tents.

At other times I would make an excursion to some of the many islands around the ship, for the purpose of exercise and collecting specimens. I took one or more of the natives with me generally, and, on a certain occasion, the following incident occurred:

In the morning of September 8th, I went over in a boat to an island. I had with me a little "one-eyed" Esquimaux companion, and, after about three hours' ramble, we returned to the landing only to find the boat entirely out of our reach. The tide had risen so much that approach to it was quite out of the question. The fastening of the boat was to a rock now far out, and beneath the waters! Here was a dilemma. What was I to do? The dashing waves threatened every moment to surge away the boat; and if that went, and we were left upon that solitary, barren isl and for a night, the probability was we should both suffer greatly. There was no other way of getting off but by the boat, and the tide was still fast rising. For a time I was puzzled what to

do. But, as "necessity is the mother of invention," I at length bethought me of a plan. If I had a line long enough to allow of a stone attached to it being thrown into the boat, all would probably be right. But I had no line. What then could I do? Presently an idea struck me. The telescope-case, containing a spyglass (which swung to my side), had a long leathern strap. My marine (opera) glass was also pendent from my neck by a piece of green curtain-cord. The native boots on my feet were made fast by strong thongs of sealskin. Quickly these were tied together and made into a line of some twenty feet long. To this a moderately heavy stone was attached, and with a good throw I managed to cast it into the boat. With a steady, gentle pull, the boat was once more within reach, and my Esquimaux companion and myself able to rejoin the living world!

It is said that "our lives often hang upon a brittle thread!" True, indeed. Certainly it was something like it in the present case, and I believe there can be no impropriety in saying that mine and my little Esquimaux's depended for once upon a strong shoestring!

Another boat adventure may be here worth narrating. About a month after the previous occurrence I went on "Look-out" Island to spend the day making observations, etc. Two young Esquimaux accompanied me; but, though the place where I landed was only about half a mile south of the ship, we were some time getting there, and on arrival I found, from the high breakers ashore, it would be better to send the boat back. The troubled sea was such that in a little time the boat, if left there, would have been pounded to pieces. I wrote a note to the ship, asking for one of the working boats to call for me at evening. As the two boys went off in the boat, no small anxiety was caused by witnessing the difficulty and delay they experienced in reaching the ship. And no wonder. The boat they had to manage was twenty-eight feet long and six feet beam, and this to take across a channel where the sea is often very considerable. However, the tide helped them, and in time they got alongside.

In the evening one of our whale - boats came for me under charge of Mr. Rogers, who also found much difficulty in approaching any place where I could get on board. He neared a rock upon which I stepped, but instantly found myself slipping. I had in hand and about my person sextants, artificial horizon, nautical and surveying books, tape measurer, etc., etc., and there I was,

ARRIVAL OF TES-SU-WIN.

135

poised upon the edge of a precipitous rock, fixed in deep water, with furious surf around it! I felt alarmed, more perhaps for my instruments than myself, for the former would be lost, while I might readily be saved. All of the boat's crew were anxiously bending their eyes upon me as I kept slipping, and for a moment unable to help myself. But, thanks to my Esquimaux boots, which had been well "chewed" by the native women, I was able, by a great effort, to press my feet and toes upon the ice-covered rock, until Keeney, the "boat-header," managed to spring on shore to my assistance, and in another moment I was in the boat. Thus I was saved on this occasion simply by the flexibility of Esquimaux boots!

One Sunday after dinner I took the dingey, a small boat belonging to the ship, and, accompanied by four Esquimaux boys, directed it to the foot of the mountains north of our harbor. The mountains are God's temples; to them I like to bend my steps on Sundays.

"God, that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands."

I used, therefore, to say, "To what place shall I go where I can better worship my God than on the mountains? How can I so well learn His power as looking upon and contemplating His almighty works?"

After leaving the boat in a safe little harbor, we began our upward tramp, and I was much interested in a pile of rock which seemed nearly undermined by old Father Time. The remaining stone was feldspar; that which had been eaten out—a stratum of five feet thick—was composed of mica and a small proportion of quartz. The distance excavated in some places could not have been less than three or four fathoms! At first it seemed decidedly venturesome to go under this rock shed; but, on witnessing the firmness of the feldspar, its immense height, length, and breadth, it restored my confidence.

I greatly enjoyed my walk, and returned on board without mishap by the evening.

On the 10th of September we were visited by some new-comers —an Esquimaux called Tes-su-win, and his family and boat's crew. They had left Ookoolear—Cornelius Grinnell Bay—on the previous day, bringing a letter from Captain Allen, of the Black Eagle, which vessel was still where we had left her on the 16th of Au

gust, when sailing for this place. The number in Tessuwin's boat was eleven, including four females. He had with him his wife, Neu-er-ar-ping, and a sister's child called Og-big, meaning whale. Tessuwin and his wife had both been to Fox Channel from Kemmisuite, in Northumberland Inlet, and the information they gave me concerning those parts, and all around the Frobisher waters, was very interesting, fully confirming the other reports. Tessuwin had often seen, and, with many others, visited in his kia the Hudson Bay Company's ships, as they passed up Hudson's Strait. He said that very few Innuits now dwelt on Kingaite (Meta Incognita), and nearly all the native inhabitants were fast dying off.

Soon after Tessuwin's arrival another boat from Captain Tyson's ship, then at the same place as the Black Eagle, came on board, and after a stay of two days returned, taking back several of the natives, among whom was Kookoodlear, the young wife of one of the George Henry's hired Esquimaux crew. Tessuwin left us on the 15th, he having engaged himself and family to Captain Allen for the whaling season.

A few days after this, on the 18th, we were much surprised at the sight of a vessel coming up the bay, and soon afterward we ascertained she was the Georgiana, Captain Tyson. It was evening when she neared, passing on the opposite side of some small islands that inclosed us in our harbor. As she was going along about three or four knots an hour, suddenly I perceived her upon a rock, and in another moment her bow was raised some four feet higher than the stern. All was then confusion. A boat was seen to take a line out, but the increasing darkness prevented much being observed, and I felt great anxiety as to her fate. Fortunately, the tide was on the flood, and in less than an hour I had the satisfaction of seeing her again free. In ten minutes more she dropped anchor about two cable lengths from us.

The following days an interchange of visits took place, and new life was diffused by the friendly spirit of emulation created between the two ships' companies in whaling. One day, when the boats were out, it was seen by those of us who remained on board that a whale had been captured, but at first we could not tell which ship's company were the victors. By-and-by it was ascertained to be the George Henry's, and I here mention it to relate an instance of generous feeling on the part of Captain Tyson.

When Smith, who was the lucky captor, had fastened to the whale, and was looking for means to secure his prize, Captain Ty

WHALE-SKIN GOOD FOR FOOD.

137 son, in his boat, came up, and, without a word, proceeded to lance the huge monster so as to render him incapable of farther resistance. Directly this was done, Tyson left, to go cruising for others; nor did he once make any proposition in reference to a claim for a share, as customary among whalers. His act was most friendly, especially so where whaling has so much to create strife.

About this time I was very sick—indeed, had been quite prostrated for several days by severe rheumatic pains. The cause originated with myself in consequence of needless exposure. I had experienced no material illness before since leaving home, and I believed, even as I now believe, that what Governor Elberg, of Holsteinborg, said to me about the healthy condition of all who reside in the arctic regions, as compared with other parts of the world, was true. But I had neglected even the commonest precautions during wet, cold, and fogs, and thus I now suffered. I allude to it for the purpose of showing the great sympathy evinced for me by the Esquimaux whenever they came on board. In moving about near my cabin they would walk on tiptoe, as though instructed in our customs at home; and on one occasion, two little girls, Ookoodlear and a companion, were so careful lest they should disturb me, that they would hardly turn over the leaves of an illustrated Atlas that had been placed before them for their amusement.

This sickness of mine continued, with intermissions, for several days; but eventually I triumphed over it, and was able to move about again as I had been accustomed to. During my sickness various dishes were prepared for me from game that was captured, hut I well remember the joy I felt on eating a portion of a reindeer's tongue, brought on board by some of the Esquimaux after a successful hunt. The previous day all hands had been eating (and relishing it too) some soused "black skin" of the whale, and I had freely taken of my share, but the satisfaction was nothing compared to that produced by the reindeer tongue. Nevertheless, I still assert that the black skin is good, either raw or cooked; and, when prepared as pig's feet are in the States, it is luxurious.

At this time the George Henry was feeding and employing in the whaling service thirteen Esquimaux—that is, two boats' crews and one over. They got three meals a day in the cabin. The ration to each was one sea-biscuit, a mug of coffee, and a slice of salt junk. Besides this, they were furnished with all the pipes, tobacco, clothing, guns, and ammunition they wanted. In return,