Ungava
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.
EDITH WAXES MELANCHOLY, BUT HER SADNESS IS SUDDENLY TURNED INTO JOY; ANDTHE ESQUIMAUX RECEIVE A SURPRISE, AND FIND A FRIEND, AND LOSE ONE.
The sea! How many stout hearts thrill and manly bosoms swell at thesound of that little word, or rather at the thought of all that itconveys! How many there are that reverence and love thy power andbeauty, thy freedom and majesty, O sea! Wherein consists the potentcharm that draws mankind towards thee with such irresistible affection?Is it in the calm tranquillity of thy waters, when thou liest like asheet of crystal, with a bright refulgent sky reflected in thy softbosom, and the white ships resting there as if in empty space, and theglad sea-mews rippling thy surface for a brief moment and then sailingfrom the blue below to the deeper blue above, and the soft song of thywavelets as they slide upon the shingly shore or lip among the caves andhollows of the rocks! Or is it in the loud roar of thy billows, as theydash and fume and lash in fury on the coasts that dare to curb thymight?--that might which, commencing, mayhap, in the torrid zone of thesouth, has rolled and leaped in majesty across the waste of waters,tossed leviathans as playthings in its strength, rushed impetuously overhalf the globe, and burst at last in helplessness upon a bed of sand!Or does the charm lie in the yet fiercer strife of the tempest and thehurricane, when the elements, let loose, sweep round the shrinking worldin fury; or in the ever-changing aspect of thy countenance, now brightand fair, now ruffled with the rising breeze, or darkened by thethunder-cloud that bodes the coming storm!
Ah yes! methinks not one but all of these combined do constitute thecharm which draws mankind to thee, bright ocean, and fills his soul withsympathy and love. For in the changeful aspects of thy visage there aretalismans which touch the varied chords that vibrate in the hearts ofmen. Perchance, in the bold whistle of thy winds, and the mad rollingof thy waves, an emblem of freedom is recognised by crushed and chafingspirits longing to be free. They cannot wall thee round. They cannotmap thee into acres and hedge thee in, and leave us naught but narrowroads between. No ploughshare cleaves thee save the passing keel; noprince or monarch owns thy haughty waves. In thy hidden caverns aretreasures surpassing those of earth; and those who dwell on thee inships behold the wonders of the mighty deep. We bow in adoration to thygreat Creator; and we bow to thee in love and reverence and sympathy, Osea!
Edith sat on the sea-shore. The glassy waves were no longer encumberedwith ice, but shone like burnished gold in the light of the summer sun.Here and there, however, a large iceberg floated on the deep--a souvenirof winter past, a guarantee of winter yet to come. At the base of theseblue islands the sea, calm though it was, broke in a continual roar ofsurf, and round their pinnacles the circling sea-birds sailed. Theyellow sands on which the child sat, the green willows that fringed thebackground of brown rocks, and the warm sun, contrasted powerfully withthe vestiges of winter on the sea, while a bright parhelia in the skyenriched and strengthened these characteristics of an arctic summer.
There was busy life and commotion in the Esquimau camp, from which Edithhad retired to some distance to indulge in solitude the sad reveries ofhome, which weighed more heavily on her mind as the time flew by and thehope of speedy delivery began to fade.
"O my own dear mother," sighed the child aloud, while a tear trickleddown each cheek, "shall I never see you more? My heart is heavy withwishing, always wishing. But no one comes. I never see a boat or aship on that wide, wide sea. Oh, when, when will it come?"
She paused, and, as she had often done before, laid her face on herhands and wept. But Edith soon recovered. These bursts of grief neverlasted long, for the child was strong in hope. She never doubted thatdeliverance would come at _last_; and she never failed to supplicate atthe throne of mercy, to which her mother had early taught her to fly inevery time of trouble and distress.
Soon her attention was attracted from the sea, over whose wide expanseshe had been gazing wistfully, by the loud voices of the Esquimaux, as anumber of them prepared to embark in their kayaks. Several small whaleshad been descried, and the natives, ever on the alert, were about toattack them. Presently Edith observed Peetoot running along the beachtowards her with a seal-spear or harpoon in his hand. This youth was aremarkably intelligent fellow, and had picked up a few words andsentences of English, of which he made the most.
"Eeduck! Eeduck!" he cried, pointing to one of the oomiaks which thewomen were launching, "you go kill whale--funny; yes, Eeduck."
"I don't think it will be very funny," said Edith, laughing; "but I'llgo to please you, Peetoot."
"Goot, Eeduck; you is goot," shouted the boy, while he flourished hisharpoon, and seizing his companion by the hand, dragged her in thedirection of the kayaks.
In a few minutes Edith was ensconced in the centre of the oomiak amid apack of noisy Esquimau women, whose tongues were loosed and spiritsraised by the hope of a successful hunt. They went merely for thepurpose of witnessing the sport, which was to be prosecuted by twelve orthirteen men, each in his arrow-like kayak. The women sat round theirclumsy boat with their faces to the bow, each wielding a short, broadpaddle, with which they propelled their craft at good speed over theglassy wave; but a few alternate dips of the long double-bladed paddlesof the kayaks quickly sent the men far ahead of them. In the stern ofthe oomiak sat an old grey-headed man, who filled the office ofsteersman; a duty which usually devolves upon old men after they becomeunfit to manage the kayak. Indeed, it requires much vigour as well aspractice to paddle the kayak, for it is so easily upset that a man couldnot sit in it for a minute without the long paddle, in the clever use ofwhich lies the security of the Esquimau.
When the flotilla had paddled out a short distance a whale rose, and layas if basking on the surface of the water. Instantly the men in thekayaks shot towards it, while the oomiak followed as fast as possible.On drawing near, the first Esquimau prepared his harpoon. To the barbof this weapon a stout line, from eight to twelve fathoms long, wasattached, having a _dan_, or float, made of a sealskin at the other endof it. The dan was large enough to hold fifteen gallons or more.
Having paddled close to the whale, the Esquimau fixed the harpoon deepin its side, and threw the dan overboard. The whale dived in an agony,carrying the dan down along with it, and the Esquimau, picking up theliberated handle of the harpoon as he passed, paddled in the directionhe supposed the whale must have taken. In a short time the danre-appeared at no great distance. The kayaks, as if shot from a bow,darted towards the spot, and before the huge fish could dive a secondtime, it received two more harpoons and several deep stabs from thelances of the Esquimaux. Again it dived, carrying two additional dansdown with it. But the dragging tendency of these three large floats,combined with the deep wounds it had received, brought the fish soonerthan before to the surface, where it was instantly met and assailed byits relentless pursuers, who, in the course of little more than an hour,killed it, and dragged it in triumph to the shore.
The natives were still occupied in towing the captured fish, when one ofthe men uttered a wild shout, and pointed eagerly out to sea. At firstEdith imagined that they must have seen another whale in the distance;but this opinion was quickly altered when she observed the eager hastewith which they paddled towards the land, and the looks of surprise withwhich, ever and anon, they regarded the object on the horizon. Thisobject seemed a mere speck to Edith's unaccustomed eyes; but as shegazed long and earnestly at it, a thought flashed across her mind. Shesprang up; her sparkling eyes seemed as though they would burst fromtheir sockets in her eager desire to make out this object of so greatinterest. At this moment the oomiak touched the land. With a boundlike a gazelle Edith sprang on shore and ran panting with excitement tothe top of a rocky eminence. Here she again directed her earnest gazeout to sea, while her colour went and came as she pressed her hands uponher breast in an agony of hope. Slowly but surely the speck came on;the wind shifted a point, which caused a gleam of sunlight to fall upona sail. It was a boat! there
could be no doubt of it--and makingdirectly for the island! Unable to contain herself, Edith, uttering apiercing cry, sank upon the ground and burst into a passionate flood oftears. It was the irresistible impulse of hope long deferred at lengthrealised; for the child did not entertain a doubt that this was atlength the answer to her prayers.
Meanwhile the Esquimaux ran about in a state of extraordinaryexcitement. These people had very probably heard of the ships whichonce a year pass through Hudson's Straits on their way to the depots onthe shores of Hudson's Bay; but they had never met with them, or seen aKublunat (white face) before that great day in their annals of discoverywhen they found little Edith fainting in the snow. Their sharp eyes hadat once detected that the approaching boat was utterly different fromtheir own kayaks or oomiaks. And truly it was; for as she drew nearwith her white sails bending before the evening breeze that had recentlysprung up, and the Union Jack flying from her peak, and the foam curlingbefore her sharp prow, she seemed a very model of grace and symmetry.
There were only three figures in the boat, one of whom, by the violentgesticulations that he made as they approached, bespoke himself anEsquimau; the other two stood erect and motionless, the one by thetiller, the other by the sheet.
"Let go," said a deep soft voice, when the boat was within astone's-cast of the shore.
The sheet flapped in the wind as the peak fell, and in another instantthe keel grated on the sand.
For one moment a feeling of intense disappointment filled Edith's heartas she sought in vain for the face of her father or Frank; then with acry of joy she sprang forward and flung herself into the arms of her oldenemy, Gaspard!
"Thank God!" said Dick Prince, with a tremulous voice, as he leapedlightly from the boat and clasped the child in his arms; "thank God wehave found you, Miss Edith! This will put new life into your poormother's heart."
"Oh! how is she? Why did she not come with you?" sobbed Edith; whileDick Prince, seating himself on a rock, drew her on his knee and strokedher fair head as she wept upon his shoulder.
Meanwhile Annatock was being nearly devoured by his wife and child andcountrymen, as they crowded round him to obtain information, and to heapupon him congratulations; and Gaspard, in order to restrain, and at thesame time relieve his feelings, essayed to drag the boat out of thewater, in which attempt, giant though he was, being single-handed, heutterly failed.
After the first eager questions were answered on both sides, the nativeswere informed by their comrade of the nature and objects of theestablishment at Ungava, and they exhibited the most extravagant signsof joy on hearing the news. When their excitement was calmed down alittle, they conducted the party to their principal tent, and set beforethem the choicest viands they possessed, talking vehemently all thewhile, and indulging in a few antics occasionally, expressive ofuncontrollable delight.
"Ye see, Miss Edith," began Prince, when he and Gaspard were seatedbefore a round of walrus-beef, "the way we came to know your whereaboutswas this: Gaspard and me was sent down to the coast to hunt seals, forwe were getting short o' blubber, and did not like to be obleeged togive deer's-meat to the dogs. Your father gave us the boat; `for,' sayshe, `Prince, it'll take ye down faster than the canoe with this wind;and if ye see any o' the natives, be sure ye don't forget to ask about_her_, Prince.' Ye see, Miss Edith, ever since ye was lost we neverliked to mention your name, although we often spoke of you, for we feltthat we might be speakin' o' the dead. Hows'ever, away we went for theshores o' the bay, and coasted along to the westward a bit. Then welanded at a place where there was a good lot o' field-ice floatin', withseals lyin' on it, and we began to catch them. One day, when we wasgoin' down to the ice as usual, we saw a black object sittin' on a floethat had drifted in the night before with a stiff breeze.
"`That's a queer-lookin' seal,' says Gaspard.
"`So 'tis,' said I. `If there was ever black bears up hereabouts, Iwould say it was one o' them.'
"`Put a ball in yer gun,' says Gaspard; for ye see, as we had beenblazin' at small birds the day before, there was nothing but shot in it.So I put in a ball, and took aim at the beast, intendin' to give it along shot. But I was mercifully prevented from firin'. Jist as Isquinted along the barrel, the beast rose straight up, and held up bothits fore paws. `Stop!' roars Gaspard, in an awful fright; and sureenough I lowered my gun, and the beast hailed us in the voice of a man,and began to walk to the shore. He seemed quite worn out when helanded, and I could understand enough of his jargon to make out that hehad been blown out to sea on the floe, and that his name was Annatock.
"While we were talkin' to the Esquimau, Gaspard cries out, `I say,Prince, look here! There's a sort o' medal on this chap's neck withsomethin' written on it. You're a larned fellow, Prince; see if ye canmake it out.' So I looked at it, and rubbed my eyes once or twice, Ican tell you, for, sure enough, there was EDITH as plain as the nose onmy face."
"Oh," exclaimed Edith, smiling through her tears, "that was the medal Ihung round his neck long, long ago! I hoped that it might be seen someday by people who knew me."
"I thought so, miss," returned Prince--"I thought as much, for I knewthat the Esquimau could never have invented and writ that out of his ownhead, ye see. But Gaspard and me had most awful trouble to get him toexplain how he came by it, and where he came from. Howsoever, we madeout at last that he came from an island in this direction; so we justmade up our minds to take the boat and come straight away for theisland, which we did, takin' Annatock to pilot us."
"Then does my father not know where you are, or anything about yourhaving heard of me?" inquired Edith, in surprise.
"Why, no, Miss Edith," replied Prince. "You see, it would have lost ustwo or three days to have gone back to Fort Chimo; and, after all, wethought it might turn out a false scent, and only raise your poormother's hopes for nothin'. Besides, we were sent away for a week ortwo, so we knew they wouldn't wonder at our absence; so we thought, uponthe whole, it would be best to come at once, specially since it was sicha short distance."
"A short distance!" repeated Edith, starting up. "I thought we must bemiles and miles, oh, ever so far away! Is the distance really short?"
"Ay, that it is, little one," said Prince, patting the child on thehead. "It is not more than three days' rowing from this island, and astiff breeze on the quarter would carry us there in less than two."
"And Frank, where is Frank?" said Edith,--with a look of eager inquiry.
"Ah, miss," replied Prince, "he has been away almost as long asyourself. Soon after you were lost a packet came from the south, and hewas obleeged to give up the sarch after you--though he was loath to doit--and set out with three o' the men for Moose. From that day to thiswe've heerd nothin' of him. But the journey he had to make was a longone--havin' to go round all the way to York Fort--so we didn't expect tohear o' him afore now. But I'll tell ye more about all your old friendswhen we git--things ready for a start to-morrow."
The remainder of that day was spent in making preparation for settingsail on the following morning. The first intimation of the existence ofthe new trading-fort had thrown the child-like natives into rapturousdelight; but when Prince told them he intended to go off the next daywith the child who had been as a bright spirit in their camp so long,they fell into the depths of grief. Indeed, there was manifested aslight desire to offer forcible opposition to this; but when Edith toldthem, through the medium of Peetoot, who acted as her interpreter, thatthe distance to her father's fort was not great, and that she wouldexpect them to come often there, and stay long, they became reconciledto her departure; and when she sought to turn their minds (a work of nogreat difficulty at any time) away from that subject by describing tothem the treasures of the trading-store, they danced and laughed andsang like very children. Even Kaga's baby crowed with a racy richnessof feeling, and smiled with an oily brilliancy of expression, comparedwith which all its former exhibitions were mere child's play.
But when the hour of departure re
ally came, and Edith bade farewell toher kind friends, whose rude but warm hospitality she had enjoyed solong, they were again plunged into the deepest distress; and when thelittle boat finally put to sea, there was not a tearless eye among thetribe, while Edith was swiftly borne from their island shore before astrong and favouring breeze.