Schwatka's Search: Sledging in the Arctic in Quest of the Franklin Records. William H. Gilder
a small cake of ice, about the size of a schooner, that collision was inevitable. A long projection beneath the water had a most dangerous look, but fortunately was so deep that the keel of the 'Eothen' ran up on it and somewhat deadened her headway. Long poles were got out at once, and, all hands pushing, succeeded after a while in getting her clear without damage; but it was a perilous moment.
We worked over toward the south side of the straits, and found a channel through which we could make but slow progress. The wind increased and blew terrifically all night, forcing the vessels to beat back and forth in the mouth of the straits, and we had a similar experience on the night of the 22d, running the gauntlet under reefed mainsail and jib through loose ice and in imminent danger of shipwreck. Next day the ice appeared somewhat open, and Captain Barry concluded to venture into the pack. When we got into clear water we worked up to the bulkhead of ice and passed Resolution Island. We were almost as glad to get rid of it as we had been to see it, nearly a week before. All the icebergs we saw were aground, and several of them had arches cut into their sides, which looked as if our vessel might safely sail inside and secure a harbor. We worked up beyond the Lower Savage Islands, and in sight of the Middle Savage and Saddleback Rock.
When we went to bed the weather was a dead calm, and the water of glassy smoothness. Not a sound was to be heard save the distant thunder of bursting icebergs and the water swashing up against the field-ice that now and then passed with the current. It sounded for all the world like waves upon a rock-bound coast, or like the distant rumbling of a train of cars. About midnight Joe called me to announce that the natives were coming off to the ship in boats. I hastened to put on my clothes; but before I got dressed I could hear the captain's voice shouting "Kimo" (Welcome), from the quarter-deck, and when I joined him I could see two dark objects that seemed to be approaching rapidly, and could hear the confused sounds of voices in conversation coming up from the water. Presently it could be seen that one was a kyack and the other an omien, or women's boat, filled with women and children and a few men. By this time Joe had come on deck, and at Captain Barry's request invited them to come aboard. When they heard their native tongue from the stranger ship their surprise was unfeigned. The men bought a number of corlitangs and kummings (native boots), as well as other articles of apparel, and gave in exchange small pieces of tobacco, a few cases of matches, and articles of clothing that were not worth keeping. Captain Barry got a quantity of whalebone, reindeer and fox skins, walrus ivory, a bear-skin, and about a hundred and fifty pounds of fresh reindeer meat. We also bought three dogs for about a pound of powder, and a kyack for Joe, for which the captain gave an old broken double-barrelled gun and a handful of powder and shot. The owner was in ecstasy over the bargain and Joe was more than happy.
I could not help, however, feeling mortified that such advantage should be taken of their childish ignorance of values. I was not surprised, then, when Joe, who has been long enough in civilized lands to know what values are, came to me and said he thought it was wrong to rob these people. They were his own people, and from the same tribe, in fact, so that his interest was naturally with them. His own uncle was one of the chief men of this tribe, but at the time we arrived had gone inland with most of the men on a hunting expedition. Joe sent him his pocket-knife as a present, and also was liberal with needles among the women, who were very grateful for his generosity. The whalers seriously object to giving things away to the natives, as it renders their system of barter more difficult. It would be a greater benefit to all these tribes to send one or two of their most intelligent young men to the United States or to England for a few years, so that they could protect them against the rapacity of the masters and owners of whaling ships. They could then get something like a fair equivalent for the goods they have to dispose of. The natives are better whalemen than any of the seamen who come to this country, and they should certainly receive more than a handful of powder and a few bullets for hundreds of pounds of bone, worth about $2.50 a pound. Shortly after daylight the natives departed, and a breeze springing up we set sail upon our journey.
Most of the day we were in full sight of the land, which I regarded with keen interest. It certainly seemed the most desolate-looking region I ever saw—a succession of hills of bald rock, with occasional patches of snow and moss; not a house, nor a tree, nor, in fact, any sign of animal or vegetable life—and yet I longed to put my foot upon that barren soil and commence the work we had before us.
One of the principal annoyances of all sailing-masters in the Arctic regions is the sluggish action of the magnetic needle as they approach the magnetic pole, and it was a difficulty from which we were not exempt. The land all looks so much alike that even when running in plain sight of it it requires the greatest familiarity with the principal points to be able to steer by them. During the night of Friday, August 2, we, by some mysterious operation, got in between Nottingham and Salisbury Islands, when we thought we were beyond the Digges. We found a bad reef, just on a level with the water's edge, about eight miles north-west of the north-west point of Nottingham Island, which is not down upon the charts, and is situated just where a vessel running along at night, "handy to the land," as sailors say, would inevitably run upon it. We put it down upon our charts and called it Trainor's Reef, as it was discovered by the third mate from the mast-head. During a previous voyage Captain Barry discovered a similar reef, about the same distance off the easterly point of Salisbury Island, which we also noted and put down as Barry's Rock.
We reached Whale Point, at the entrance of Rowe's Welcome, during the morning of Wednesday, August 7, just seven weeks from New York, and about six o'clock a whale-boat reached the vessel's side, after having chased us all night. It was loaded with natives of the Iwillie tribe, two or three families of whom still remained at the Point, while the others had gone down to the vicinity of Depot Island, which is half-way between Cape Fullerton and Chesterfield Inlet. The visitors comprised two men, a woman, two boys, a little orphan girl, and a baby. The woman was a daughter of "Prince Albert," a man of considerable influence in his tribe, and I understood that his power was due to superior intelligence and sagacity. In fact, all those whom we met at this time seemed much superior in intelligence to those who came aboard at the Lower Savage Islands. They were cleaner, but by a mere trifle, and showed improvement from contact with civilization. They usually preferred to array themselves in some part of the costume of white people, though not by any means particular in wearing it as white people do. One of the men was a young fellow known as "Jim," who, the captain thought, would be a desirable acquisition to our party to go to King William Land, and Joe made the proposition to him. He regarded the matter favorably, and was particularly interested when he saw some of our fine rifles. His father was an old man, called "The Doctor," who was dependent upon his son. After giving our guests breakfast and a few presents we bade them good-by, and set sail for Depot Island, where we arrived about four o'clock in the afternoon.
The lookout from the mast-head saw some boats coming from the main-land, and presently three kyacks, an omien, and two whale-boats came alongside, bringing about fifty people, including men, women, and children. Among them were Armow and his two half-brothers, Ik-omer (Fire) and Too-goo-lan. "Papa" was there also, and he, too, is one of the few savages that are thoroughly reliable in every respect. He was one of Captain Hall's party when he visited King William Land in 1868. All these people seemed very friendly toward us, and upon a consultation over the charts we decided to go on to the main-land, near Depot Island, to spend the winter. We learned with deep regret that one of the Natchillis, who was said to have spoken to Captain Barry about the existence of books among the Franklin relics, had since died, and that nobody knew what had become of the other. We determined to make every effort to find the latter, for should he know where the books were hidden, and be willing to conduct us there, our labor would have been materially lessened. But in any case, whether we found him or not, we had great faith that, by staying at least one season on King William Land, when the snow was off the ground, we should be able to find the records, and complete the history of Sir John Franklin's last expedition.
[Map: LIEUT. SCHWATKA'S EXPED. to KING WILLIAM LAND to
Discover the Remains of the FRANKLIN EXPEDITION.]
CHAPTER II.
THE WINTER