CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
ESCAPE FROM PRESENT DANGER, AND A CURIOUS INSTANCE OF THE EFFECTS OFGIN.
Although Nunaga, Kabelaw, and the children were now happily re-united tofriends and kindred, their dangers were by no means over, for a widespace of ice-blocked sea separated the small island from the shores ofGreenland, and their supply of meat was not sufficient, even witheconomy, to maintain the whole party for more than a couple of days.
In these circumstances they were much comforted, after the storm hadblown itself out, to find that the pack had been considerably loosened,and that several lanes of open water extended through it in thedirection of the shore.
"There is a temporary settlement of natives not far from here, on themainland," said Egede, when he and some of the men were assembled on thebeach discussing their plans. "Although not very friendly, they wouldnevertheless help us, I think, in this hour of need. They have beendemoralised by traders, and drawn away from the mission at Godhaab. Buthow we are to get to the mainland it is difficult to see, unless Godmercifully clears away the ice."
"Why don't you ask your God to clear it away?" demanded Simek. "Haveyou not told us that He answers prayer offered in the name of Jesus?"
Egede looked at his questioner in some surprise, mingled with pleasure,for his experience had taught him that too many of the natives eitherassented without thought to whatever he said, or listened with absoluteindifference, if not aversion--especially when he attempted to bringtruth home, or apply it personally.
"I am glad you ask the question, Simek," he replied, "because it givesme the opportunity of telling you that I _have_ asked God, in the nameof Jesus, to bring us out of our present trouble, and also of explainingthat I never pray without adding the words `if it be Thy will'--for Goddoes not always answer prayer exactly in accordance with our request,but according to His own wisdom; so that, if He were hereafter to say,`Now, is not that better than you asked?' we would be obliged to reply,`Yes, Lord, it is better.'"
As the expression on Simek's face showed that he was not quiteconvinced, Egede added--
"Listen, Simek. I and my people were starving here. I prayed to God,in Jesus' name, to send us deliverance. Did He not answer my prayer bysending you and your party with food!"
"True," assented Simek.
"Listen again, Simek. Were you not in great danger when your oomiak andkayaks were crushed in the ice?"
"Yes."
"Were you not in very great danger when you were imprisoned on theiceberg--in danger of starvation, in danger of being crushed by itsdisruption?"
"Yes."
"Well, now, if you had believed in the great and good Spirit at thattime, what would you have asked Him to do for you?"
"I would have asked Him to clear the sea of ice," replied the Eskimopromptly, "and send us kayaks and oomiaks to take us on shore."
"And if He had answered you according to your prayer, you would havesaid, no doubt, `That is well.'"
"Yes," answered Simek emphatically, and with a smile.
"But suppose," continued Egede, "that God had answered you by deliveringyou in _another_ way--by keeping you on the berg; by making that berg,as it were, into a great oomiak, and causing it to voyage as no oomiakever voyaged--causing it to plough through pack-ice as no ship made byman ever ploughed; to go straight to an island to which no human powercould have brought you; and to have done it all in time to save your owndear Pussi and all the rest of us from starvation--would you not havesaid that God had answered your prayer in a way that was far better?"
While the missionary was speaking, profound gravity took the place ofthe puzzled expression on the countenance of Simek and of the others whowere listening, for their intelligence was quite quick enough toperceive the drift of his argument before it was finished.
"But," said Simek earnestly, "I did _not_ pray for this, yet I got it."
"True, the Good Spirit guided you, even though you did not pray,"returned Egede. "Is not this a proof of His love? If He is so good tothankless and careless children, what sure ground have we for trustingthat He will be good to those who love Him! What our Great Father wantsis that we should love and trust Him."
There was one man of the group whose lips were parted, and whose eyesseemed to glitter as he listened. This was Angut. Much and deeply hadthat intelligent Eskimo thought about the Great Spirit and the mysteriesaround and within himself, but never till that moment did the curtainseem to rise so decidedly from before his spiritual vision. Egedeobserved the keen gaze, though he judged it wise to take no notice of itat the time, but he did not fail to pray mentally that the good seedmight take root.
The attention of the party was called off the subject of discourse justthen by a further movement of the pack-ice.
"See, the lanes of open water widen," exclaimed Okiok eagerly, pointingseaward.
"Perhaps," said Egede, "God intends to deliver us."
"Have you prayed to be delivered?" asked Angut quickly.
"Yes, I have."
"Suppose," continued the inquisitive Eskimo, "that God does _not_deliver you, but leaves you here to die. Would _that_ be answering yourprayer?"
"Yes; for instead of granting my request in the way I wished, namely,that I might be permitted to live and preach about the Great Spirit toyour countrymen for many years, He would have answered my prayer fordeliverance by taking me away from _all_ evil, to be with Jesus, _whichis far better_."
To the surprise of the missionary, a look of disappointment settled onthe face of Angut.
"What ails you?" he asked.
"From what you say," returned the Eskimo, somewhat coldly, "I see that,with you, _whatever_ happens is best; _nothing_ can be wrong. There issomething which tells me here,"--he placed his hand on his breast--"thatthat is not true."
"You misunderstand me, friend," said Egede; "I did not say that nothingcan be wrong. What I do say is that whatever God does is and must beright. But God has given to man a free will, and with his free will_man_ does wrong. It is just to save man from this wrong-doing thatJesus came to earth."
"Free will?" murmured the Eskimo, with a recurrence of the perplexedlook. And well might that look recur, for his untrained yetphilosophical mind had been brought for the first time face to face withthe great insoluble problem of the ages.
"Yes," said Egede, "you have got hold of a thought which no man has everyet been able to fathom. Free will is a great mystery, neverthelessevery child knows that it is a great _fact_."
From this point Angut seemed to commune only with his own spirit, for heput no more questions. At the same time the opening up of the packrendered the less philosophical among the Eskimos anxious to make somepractical efforts for their deliverance.
At Rooney's suggestion it was arranged that the boldest of the menshould take the missionary's boat--a very small one that could not carryabove a third of the party,--and examine the leads of open water, untilthey should ascertain whether they seemed safe or practicable; thenreturn at once, and, if the report should be favourable, begin by takingoff the women and children. This plan was carried out. A favourablereport was brought back, the women were immediately embarked, and beforeevening closed the whole party was landed on the mainland in safety.
Being too late to proceed further that day, the Eskimos ran up a rudeshelter of stones, moss, and sticks, the women being accommodated underthe upturned boat. Next day they found that the pack had continued toease off during the night, so that there was a lead of open waterbetween it and the shore.
"You have been praying during the night," said Okiok to Egede in anabrupt manner, almost as if he were accusing him of taking an unfairadvantage of circumstances.
"Truly I have," answered the missionary, with an amused look, "but I didnot presume to ask the Great Spirit to help us in this particular way.I left that to His wisdom and love. I have been taught to trust Him."
"And if you had not got an answer at all," returned Okiok, wrinkling hisbrows in perplexit
y, "you would still have said that all was right?"
"Just so. If I get an answer it is well. If I get no answer it isstill well, for then I know that He sees delay to be best for me and Ifeel sure that the answer will come at last, in the right way, and ingood time, for in the Book of the Great Spirit I am told that `allthings work together for good to them that love God.'"
"What!" exclaimed Angut, who had listened to the conversation withintense interest; "would it be good for you if I killed you?"
"Of course it would, if God allowed it. Thousands of men and women intime past have chosen to be killed rather than offend God by sinning."
"This is very strange teaching," said Angut, glancing at his friendOkiok.
"It is the teaching of Jesus, the Son of God. I am only His servant,"said the missionary, "and I hope to tell you much more that will seemvery strange before long; but at present we must arrange what is now tobe done, for it is the duty of all men to take advantage ofopportunities as they are presented to them."
The truth of this was so obvious that the Eskimos at once dropped intothe region of the practical by advising that the women should all getinto the boat and advance by water, while the men should walk by theshore.
This being agreed to, the boat was launched. Although not an Eskimooomiak, the little craft, which was made of wood, and resembled a punt,was propelled by oomiak paddles, so that Madame Okiok, who was appointedsteerswoman, felt herself quite at home when seated in her place.Sigokow, being a powerful creature, physically as well as mentally, wasput in charge of the bow-paddle. The other women were ranged along thesides, each with a paddle except old Kannoa who was allowed to sit inthe bottom of the craft as a passenger, and guardian of Pussi andTumbler.
As these last were prone to jump about under violent impulses of joyoushilarity, and had an irresistible desire to lean over the sides for thepurpose of dipping their hands in the sea, the duty of the old woman,although connected with children's play, was by no mean's child's play.
Three miles an hour being the average speed at which the boat went, thewalkers easily kept up with it. Only once did a difficulty occur whenthey came to a narrow bay which, although not more than a mile or soacross from point to point, ran so far inland that the walkers could nothave gone round it without great loss of time.
"We must be ferried across here," said Egede; "but as it is past noon, Ithink we had better call a halt, and dine before making the traverse."
"That is my opinion, too, sir," said Rooney, throwing down the bundle hehad been carrying.
As the invitation to feed seldom comes amiss to a healthy Eskimo,Egede's proposal was at once agreed to, and in a few minutes they wereall busily engaged.
It was a pretty spot, that on which they dined. Bushes just beginningto bud surrounded them; brilliant sunshine drew forth delicious scentsfrom the long, long frozen earth and the reviving herbage on which theysat. It also drew forth gushing rivulets from the patches of snow andheavy drifts, which here and there by their depth and solidity seemed tobid defiance to the sweet influences of spring. The ice-laden sea sentgentle wavelets to the pebbly shore. A group of large willows formed abackground to their lordly hall, and behind them, in receding and grandperspective, uprose the great shoulders of Greenland's mountains.
On all those natural objects of interest and beauty, however, thetravellers did not at first bestow more than a passing glance. Theywere too much engrossed with "metal more attractive," in the shape ofbear blubber; but when appetite began to fail conversation began toflow. At that point it occurred to Pussi and Tumbler that they would goand have some fun.
Child-nature is much the same all the world over and curiously enough,it bears strong resemblance to adult nature. Having fed to satiety,these chips of Simek and Okiok lifted up their eyes, and beheld thesurrounding shrubs. At once the idea arose--"Let us explore." The verysame impulse that sent Mungo Park and Livingstone to Africa; Ross,Parry, Franklin, Kane, and all the rest of them toward the Pole, led ourlittle hero and heroine into that thicket, and curiosity urged them toexplore as far as possible. They did so, and, as a natural consequence,lost themselves. But what cared they for that? With youth, and health,and strength, they were as easy in their minds as Lieutenant Greely waswith sextant, chart, and compass. As to food, were they not alreadyvictualled for, not a three years', but a three hours', expedition?
And their parents were not disturbed on their account. Eskimo fathersand mothers are not, as a rule, nervous or anxious about theiroffspring.
In a remarkably short space of time Pussi and Tumbler, walking hand inhand, put more than a mile of "bush" between them and theirfeeding-place.
"Oh! wha's dat?" exclaimed Pussi, stopping short, and gazing into thethicket in front of her.
We pause to remind the reader that our little ones lisped in Eskimo, andthat, in order to delineate faithfully, our only resource is totranslate into lisping English.
"It's a man," exclaimed Tumbler.
"I tink him's a funny man," murmured the little girl, as the manapproached.
Pussi was right. But it was not his dress, so much as his gait andexpression, that were funny. For the stranger was obviously an Eskimo,being flat and fat-visaged, black-and-straight haired, and seal-skinnilyclad.
The singular point about him was his walk. To all appearance it was arecently acquired power, for the man frowned almost fiercely at theground as he advanced, and took each step with an amount of forethoughtand deliberation which to the children seemed quite unaccountable. Nay,after having taken a step, he would seem suddenly to repent, and drawback, putting a foot behind him again, or even to one side or theother--anywhere, in short, rather than in front. Coming up to thechildren at last by this painful process, he became suddenly aware oftheir presence, and opened his eyes to an extent that could only beaccounted for on the wild supposition that he had never seen a child inall his life before.
Having stared for a minute or so with all the intensity of the mostsolemn surprise, he blinked like a sleepy owl, his mouth expanded, andhis whole countenance beamed with good-will; but suddenly he changedback, as if by magic, to the solemn-surprise condition.
This was too much for the children, who simultaneously burst into ahilarious fit of laughter.
The fit seemed catching, for the man joined them with a loud roar ofdelight, swaying to and fro with closed eyes as he did so.
The roar brought up Red Rooney, who had followed the children's stepsand happened to be close to them at the time of the explosion. Helooked at the man for a moment, and then his muttered remark, "Drunk asa fiddler!" cleared up the mystery.
When the man opened his eyes, having finished his laugh, and beheld atall Kablunet gazing sternly at him, all the fire of his ancestorsblazed up in his breast, and came out at his eyes. Drawing his knife,he sprang at our seaman with the murderous weapon uplifted.
Rooney caught his wrist, put a foot behind his leg, gave him a sort oftwirl, and laid him flat on his back. The fall caused the knife to spininto the air, and the poor Eskimo found himself at the mercy of theKablunet.
Instead of taking the man's life, Rooney bade him sit up. The man didso with a solemn look, not unmixed with perplexity.
There is a phase of that terrible vice drunkenness which is comic, andit is not of the slightest use to ignore that fact. There were probablyfew men who detested strong drink and grieved over its dire effects morethan Red Rooney. He had been led, at a time when total abstinence wasalmost unknown, to hate the very name of drink and to become a totalabstainer. Yet he could not for the life of him resist a hearty laughwhen the befuddled Eskimo blinked up in his face with an imbecile smile,and said--"Wh-whash 'e matter, y-you st-stupid ole' K-K-Kablunet?"
The difficulty and faulty nature of his pronunciation was such thatslipshod English serves admirably to indicate his state of mind,although neither English nor Eskimo, Arabic nor Hebrew, will suffice todescribe in adequate terms the tremendous solemnity of his gaze afterthe imbeci
le smile had passed away.
"You disreputable old seal," said Rooney, "where did you get the drink?"
Words are wanting to express the dignified look of injured innocencewith which the man replied--"I--I've had _no_ d-drink. Nosh a d-drop!"
"Yes, truly you _are_ a man and a brother," muttered Rooney, as he notedthis "touch of nature," and felt that he was in the company of "kin.""What's your name, you walrus?"
"K-Kazho," answered the man indignantly.
"What!"
"K-Ka-zho," he repeated, with emphasis.
"I suppose you mean Kajo, you unnatural jellyfish."
Kajo did not condescend to say what he meant, but continued to eye theKablunet with lofty disdain, though the effect of his expression wasmarred by his attention being distracted by Pussi and Tumbler, whosefaces were fiery red, owing to fits of suppressed laughter.
"Get up now, you old rascal," said Rooney. "Come along with me, andI'll show you to my friends."
At first the Eskimo showed a disposition to resist, but when thepowerful seaman lifted him up by the neck of his coat, as if he had beena little dog, and set him on his legs, he thought better of it, smiledbenignly, and moved on.
Hans Egede at once recognised this fellow as one of the most troublesomeof his flock.
"I have done my best to keep strong drink from that man," he explainedto Rooney, "but, as you must be aware from your long residence amongthem, the traders _will_ supply the poor creatures with rum, and Kajo'snaturally sanguine temperament is unable to withstand its influence.Over and over again he has promised me--with tears of, I believe, truerepentance in his eyes--to give it up; but as surely as the tradersoffer it to him, and prevail on him to take one drop, so surely does hegive way to a regular debauch."
While he spoke to Rooney in the Danish tongue, the subject ofconversation stood with bowed head, conscience-smitten, before him, for,although he did not understand the language, he guessed correctly thatthe talk was about his own misdeeds.
"Come with me," said the missionary, taking the poor man by the arm,leading him aside to some distance, and evidently entering into seriousremonstrance--while Kajo, as evidently, commenced energeticprotestations.
On returning, Egede said that the Eskimo told him his tribe had movedalong the coast to a better hunting-ground, and were at that momentlocated in an old deserted village, just beyond the point for which theywere making, on the other side of the bay. He therefore advised thatthey should start off at once, so as to reach the camp early in theevening.
"Kajo tells me," added Egede, "that his kayak lies hid in the bushes atno great distance; so he can go with us. He is not too drunk, I think,to manage his light craft."
But Egede was wrong, for even while he was speaking Kajo had slippedquietly behind a bush. There, after a cautious look round to see thatno one observed him, he drew a curious little flat earthenware bottlefrom some place of concealment about his dress, applied it to his lips,and took what Rooney would have styled "a long, hearty pull."
That draught was the turning-point. The comic and humorous were put toflight, and nothing but fierce, furious savagery remained behind. Manymen in their cups become lachrymose, others silly, and some combative.The fiery liquor had the latter effect on Kajo. Issuing from his placeof retirement with a fiendish yell and glaring eyes, he made an insaneattack on Angut. That Eskimo, having no desire to hurt the man, merelystepped lightly out of his way and let him pass. Fortunately his knifehad been left on the ground where Rooney first met him, for he stumbledand fell upon Kabelaw, into whom he would certainly have plunged theweapon had it still been in his hand.
Jumping up, he looked round with the glaring eyes of a tiger, while hisfingers clutched nervously at the place where he was wont to carry thelost knife.
Seeing his condition, Arbalik sprang towards him, but, stooping quickly,Kajo darted out of his way. At the same moment he snatched up a knifethat had been left lying on the ground. The first effect of the lastdraught seemed for the time to have increased the man's powers ofaction, for, rushing round the circle, he came suddenly upon poor oldKannoa, who chanced to be seated a little apart from the others.Seizing her thin hair, Kajo brandished the knife in front of her throat,and, glaring at the men, gave vent to a wild laugh of triumph.
It was evident that he was for the time quite mad and unaccountable forhis actions--though by no means unaccountable for taking the accurseddrink that reduced him to that state of temporary insanity. Red Rooney,aghast with horror at the impending fate of the dear old remembrancer ofhis grandmother, sprang forward with the agility of a wild cat, but hisenergy, intensified though it was by rage, could not have prevented thecatastrophe if Ippegoo had not come to the rescue.
Yes, that mild youth was the instrument chosen to avert the blow. Hechanced to be standing beside a mass of turf which Okiok had cut fromthe ground for the purpose of making a dry seat for Nuna. Seizing this,Ippegoo hurled it at the head of the drunken Eskimo. Never before didthe feeble youth make such a good shot. Full on the flat face of thedrunkard it went, like the wad of a siege-gun, scattering earth and_debris_ all round--and down went the Eskimo. Unable to check himself,down also went Rooney on the top of him.
Next moment the luckless Kajo was secured with a piece of walrus-line,and flung on one side, while the indignant party held a noisyconsultation as to what was to be done with him.