Ungava

Chapter Twenty One.

Silent conversation—Raw food—Female tails—A terrible battle terminated by the interposition of a giant

Of all the people at Fort Chimo no one was more interested in the Esquimaux than little Edith. She not only went fearlessly among them, and bestowed upon them every trinket she possessed, but, in her childlike desire for the companionship and sympathy of human beings of her own age and sex, she took forcible possession of two little girls who happened to be cleaner, and, therefore, prettier than the others, and led them away to her own ravine, where she introduced them to her favourite berries and to her dog Chimo. At first the dog did not seem to relish the intrusion of these new favourites, but seeing that they did not induce his mistress to caress him less than before, he considerately tolerated them. Besides, the Esquimaux had brought their dogs along with them; and Chimo, being of an amicable disposition, had entered into social fellowship with his own kind. We have said that Chimo was sagacious, and it is quite possible he may have felt the propriety of granting to Edith that liberty which he undoubtedly claimed for himself.

But Edith’s intercourse with her little Esquimau protégées was necessarily confined to looks—the language of the eye making up for the absence of that of the tongue. There were many things, however, in which language was not required as a medium of communication between the children. When the berries were good, the brightening eyes and smacking lips spoke a language common to all the human race. So, also, when the berries were sour or bitter, the expression of their faces was peculiarly emphatic. The joyous shout, too, as they discovered a new scene that pleased their eyes, while they roved hand in hand through the ravines, or the shrinking glance of fear as they found themselves unexpectedly on the edge of a precipice, was sufficiently intelligible to the trio. The little friends presented a striking and grotesque contrast. It would have been difficult to say whether the little Esquimaux were boys or girls. If anything, the costume seemed more to indicate the former than the latter. Like their mothers, they wore loose deerskin shirts with the hair on the outside, which gave them a round, soft, burly appearance—an appearance which was increased by their little boots, which were outrageously wide, and quite as long as their legs. The frocks or shirts had hoods and tails, which latter, according to fashion, were so long that they trailed on the ground. The inconvenience of the tail is so great that the women, while travelling on a journey, get rid of it by drawing it between their legs, and, lifting up the end, fastening it in front to a button sewed to their frock for the purpose. In travelling, therefore, Esquimau women seem to be destitute of this appendage; but, on arriving at camp, they undo the fastening, and walk about with flowing tails behind them!

Edith’s costume consisted of a short frock made of dark blue cloth, and a head-dress peculiar to the Indian women among the Crees. It was preferred by the little wearer to all other styles of bonnet, on account of the ease with which it could be thrown off and on. She also wore ornamented leggings and moccasins. Altogether, with her graceful figure, flaxen curls, and picturesque costume, she presented a strong contrast to the fat, dark, hairy little creatures who followed her by brook and bush and precipice the livelong day.

One morning, about two weeks after the arrival of the Esquimaux, Edith went down to the camp after breakfast, and found her two companions engaged in concluding their morning meal. The elder, whose name was Arnalooa, was peering with earnest scrutiny into the depths of a marrowbone, from which she had already extracted a large proportion of the raw material. The younger, Okatook, seized a lump of raw seal’s flesh, as Edith entered their hut, and, cutting therefrom a savoury morsel, put it into her mouth as she rose to welcome her visitor.

“Oh! how can you?” said Edith, with a look of disgust at this ravenous conduct on the part of her friend. But Edith had said, “Oh! how can you?” and “Oh! shocking!” and “Oh! why don’t you give up eating it raw?” and “Oh! why won’t you have it cooked?” nearly every day for the last two weeks, without producing any other effect than a gleeful laugh from the little Esquimaux; for, although they did not comprehend her words, they clearly understood her looks of disapproval. But although they would not give up the habit of eating raw flesh, which they had been accustomed to from their infancy, they were prevailed on so far to break through the habits of their people as to wash their hands and faces before going out to play. This they did because Edith positively refused to go with them unless they did so.

Lifting up the end of her tail and wiping her mouth therewith, Arnalooa smiled at Edith’s look of reproach, and ran laughing towards the shore, where she and Okatook washed their hands, after which they followed Edith and Chimo to their favourite ravine. Although she knew that they did not understand a word of what she said, Edith invariably kept up a running fire of small talk, in reference chiefly to the objects of nature by which they were surrounded. To this the little hairy creatures listened intently with smiling faces, and sometimes they laughed prodigiously, as though they understood what was said, so that their companion felt as if she were really conversing with them, although she was sadly perplexed at the utter impossibility of obtaining an intelligible reply to a question when she chanced to put one.

“Oh, what a lovely glen!” cried Edith, her eyes beaming with delight, as, on turning the point of a projecting crag, she and her companions found themselves in a spot which they had not before seen during their rambles. It was a wild, savage gorge, full of fallen rocks, hemmed in with high cliffs, fringed here and there with willows and mosses, among which were a few brilliant wild-flowers. The lights and shadows of the spot were thrown into powerful contrast by a gleam of sunshine which flashed down among the rugged masses, lighting up peaks and sharp edges in some spots, while in others they were thrown into the profoundest gloom.

“Oh! is it not a delightful place?” cried Edith, as she bounded up the rugged path, followed by Chimo, while the two Esquimau girls buttoned up their tails, and followed her as fast as their more cumbrous habiliments would permit.

For a quarter of an hour the party toiled up the steep ascent, pausing now and then to pluck a flower, or to look back on the wild path by which they had come, until they reached a ridge of rock, beyond which lay a small lake or pool. So dark and still did it lie within the shadow of the overhanging cliffs that it resembled a pool of ink. Here the adventurous explorers sat down to recover breath, and to gaze in childish delight, not unmixed with awe, at the wild scene around them.

The peculiar wildness of the spot seemed to exercise an unusual influence over the dog; for, instead of lying down, as it was wont to do, at the feet of its young mistress, it moved about uneasily, and once or twice uttered a low growl.

“Come here, Chimo,” said Edith, when these symptoms of restlessness had attracted her attention; “what is the matter with you, my dear dog? Surely you are not frightened at the appearance of this wild place! Speak, dog; see, Arnalooa is laughing at you.”

Edith might have said with more propriety that Arnalooa was laughing at herself, for the little Esquimau was much amused at the serious manner in which her Kublunat friend spoke to her dog. But Chimo refused to be comforted. He raised his snout, snuffed the air once or twice, and then, descending the gorge a short distance, put his nose close to the ground and trotted away.

“That is very odd of Chimo,” said Edith, looking into Arnalooa’s face with an expression of perplexity.

As she spoke Okatook pointed, with an eager glance, up the ravine. Turning her eyes hastily in the direction indicated, Edith beheld a deer bounding towards them. It was closely followed by a savage wolf. The deer seemed to be in the last stage of exhaustion. Its flanks were wet with moisture, its eyes starting from their sockets, and its breath issued forth in deep sobs, as it bounded onwards, seemingly more by the force of its impetus than by any voluntary exertion. More intent on the danger behind than on that which lay before it, the deer made straight for the pass in which the three girls stood, and scarcely had they time to spring to the sides of the cliff, when it swept by like an arrow. Instantly after, and ere it had taken two bounds past them, the wolf sprang forward; caught it by the throat, and dragged it to the ground, where in a few seconds it worried the noble animal to death. It is probable that the chase now terminated had begun at early dawn that day, for deer being fleeter than wolves they prolong the chase until overcome by the superior strength and dogged perseverance of their ravenous enemies. Over mountain and hill they had bounded along together, through glen and gorge, across river and lake, bursting headlong through bush and brake, or under the shadow of frowning cliffs, and toiling, at a foot pace and with panting sides, up the steep hills, in the fierce blaze of the sun, the one impelled by hunger, the other by fear, until at length the scene closed in the wild pass, almost at the feet of the three children.

But retribution was in store for the savage destroyer. Ere yet the life’s blood had teased to flow from the throat of the dying deer, and while the wolf’s fangs were still dripping with its gore, a fierce bark, followed by a terrific growl, rang among the cliffs, and Chimo, with his ears laid back and his formidable row of teeth exposed, rushed up the gorge and seized the wolf by the neck! Thus assailed, the wolf returned the bite with interest, and immediately a fight of the most energetic character ensued.

The wolf was much larger and more powerful than Chimo, but was greatly exhausted by its long chase, while the dog was fresh and vigorous. Once or twice Chimo tossed his huge adversary by main strength, but as often he was overturned and dreadfully shaken, while the long fangs of the wolf met in his neck, and mingled the blood of the deer, which bespattered his black muzzle, with the life’s blood that began to flow copiously from Chimo’s veins. At this moment a shout was heard farther up the ravine. The three girls turned hastily, and saw, on a point of rock which projected from the mountain side and overhung the dark pool, the figure of a man, of such immense proportions that they instinctively shrank back with terror. The position in which he stood made him appear larger than he really was. The scattered gleams and slant rays of sunshine that played around the spot invested him as with a supernatural halo, while a bright glow of light on the cliff behind detached him prominently from the surrounding shadows. He poised a spear in his right hand, and, while Edith gazed at him in terror, the weapon flew whistling through the air and was buried in the side of the wolf. But so close did the spear pass, that Edith involuntarily stepped back as she heard it whiz. In doing so she lost her balance and fell over the cliff. Fortunately, Arnalooa caught her by the dress and partially broke her fall, but the descent was sufficiently steep and rugged to render the child insensible.

When Edith recovered consciousness, her first emotion was that of terror, on beholding a large, dark-bearded face bending over her; but a second glance showed her that the eyes of the stranger gazed upon her with a look of tenderness, and that Arnalooa and Okatook were kneeling beside her with an expression of anxiety. Had anything further been wanting to allay her fears, the sight of Chimo would have done it. It is true the sturdy dog panted heavily, and occasionally licked his wounds, as he sat on his haunches at her feet; but he was wonderfully calm and collected after his recent mortal conflict, and regarded his young mistress from time to time with an air of patronising assurance.

As Edith opened her eyes, the stranger muttered some unintelligible words, and, rising hastily, went to a neighbouring spring, at which he filled a rude cup with water. In doing this, he revealed the huge proportions of the gigantic Esquimau whom we introduced to our reader in a former chapter. He was dressed in the same manner as when we first saw him, but his face was somewhat altered, and his black eyebrows were marked by that peculiar curve which is expressive of deep melancholy. Returning quickly from the spring, he kneeled beside the little girl, and, raising her head on his broad hand, held the goblet to her lips.

“Thank you,” said Edith faintly, as she swallowed a few drops; “I think I had better go home. Is Chimo safe? Chimo!” She started up as the recollection of the fight with the wolf flashed upon her; but the fall had stunned her rather severely, and scarcely had she risen to her feet when she staggered and fell back into the arms of the Esquimau.

Seeing that she was quite unable to walk, he raised her in his powerful arm as if she had been a young lamb. Catching the dead wolf by the neck as he passed, and springing from rock to rock with catlike agility, he bore his burden down the ravine, and strode towards the fort under the guidance of Okatook and Arnalooa.

Chapter Twenty Two.

Maximus—Deer spearing—A surprisingly bad shot—Character of the natives

“Hallo! what have we here?” exclaimed Stanley, starting from his seat in amazement, as the giant entered the hall of Fort Chimo—his left hand grasping a blood-stained wolf by the throat, and Edith resting in his right arm.

At first the startled father imagined his child must have been wounded, if not killed, by the savage animal; but his mind was immediately relieved on this point by Edith herself, who was no sooner laid on her bed than she recovered sufficiently to narrate the circumstances attending her fall.

“Well, Maximus,” said Stanley, returning to the hall and applying to the bulky savage the term that seemed most appropriate to him, “shake hands with me, my good fellow. You’ve saved Chimo’s life, it seems; and that’s a good turn I’ll not forget. But a—. I see you don’t understand a word I say. Hallo! Moses, Moses! you deaf rascal, come here!” he shouted, as that worthy passed the window.

“Yis, mossue,” said Moses, entering the hall. “Oh, me! what a walrus am dis! Me do b’lieve him most high as a tree an’ more broader nor iveryt’ing!”

“Hold thy tongue, Moses, and ask the fellow where he came from; but tell him first that I’m obliged to him for saving Chimo from that villainous wolf.”

While Moses interpreted, Arnalooa and Okatook, being privileged members of the tribe, crossed over to Edith’s room.

“Well, what says he?” inquired Stanley, at the end of a long address which the giant had delivered to Moses.

“Him say he heered we have come to trade, from Eskeemo to west’ard, and so him come for to see us.”

“A most excellent reason,” said Stanley. “Has he brought any furs?”

“Yis; him brought one two fox, and two t’ree deer. No have much furs in dis country, him say.”

“Sorry to hear that. Perhaps his opinion may change when he sees the inside of our store. But I would like him to stay about the fort as a hunter, Moses; he seems a first-rate man. Ask him if he will consent to stay for a time.”

“P’raps he fuss-rate, p’raps not,” muttered Moses in a disparaging tone, as he turned to put the question.

“Him say yis.”

“Very good; then take him to your house, Moses, and give him some food and a pipe, and teach him English as fast as you can, and see that it is grammatical. D’ye hear?”

“Yis, mossue, me quite sure for to teach him dat.”

As Moses turned to quit the hall, Stanley called him back. “Ask Maximus, by-the-bye, if he knows anything of a party of Esquimaux who seem to have been attacked, not long ago, by Indians in this neighbourhood.”

No sooner was this question put than the face of Maximus, which had worn a placid, smiling expression during the foregoing conversation, totally changed. His brows lowered, and his lips were tightly compressed, as he regarded Stanley for a few moments ere he ventured to reply. Then, in a deep, earnest tone, he related the attack, the slaughter of his people, their subsequent escape, and the loss of his bride. Even Moses was agitated as he went on, and showed his teeth like an enraged mastiff when the Esquimau came to speak of his irreparable loss.

“Stay one moment,” said Stanley, when Maximus concluded. “I have something to show you;” and hastening into his room, he quickly returned with the little piece of sealskin that had been found at the deserted Indian camp. “Do you know anything of this, Maximus? Do you understand these marks?”

The Esquimau uttered a cry of surprise when his eye fell on the piece of skin, and he seemed much agitated while he put several quick, earnest questions to Moses, who replied as earnestly and quickly; then turning rapidly on his heel, he sprang through the doorway, and was soon lost to view in the stunted woods of the ravine above the fort.

“That fellow seems in a hurry,” exclaimed Frank Morton, entering the room just as the savage made his exit. “Who is he, and wherefore in so great haste?”

“As to who he is,” answered Stanley, “I’ll tell you that after Moses has explained the cause of his sudden flight.”

“He say that him’s wife make dat skin, and de arrow on him skin show dat de Injuns take her to deir tents.”

“But did you not tell him that we found the skin long ago, and that the Indians must be far, far away by this time—nobody knows where?” demanded Frank.

“Yis, me tell him. But he go for to see de spot. T’ink him find more t’ings, p’raps.”

“Oh, messieurs, voilà!” shouted La Roche, pointing towards the river, as he rushed, breathless with haste, into the hall; “les Esquimaux, dem kill all de deer dans le kontry. Oui, voilà! dans les kayak. Two dozen at vonce—vraiment!” Without waiting a reply, the excited Frenchman turned round and rushed out of the house, followed by Stanley and Frank, who seized their guns, which always hung ready loaded on the walls of the apartment.

On reaching the water’s edge, the scene that met their eye was indeed sufficient to account for the excitement of La Roche. A herd of perhaps fifty or sixty deer, on their way to the coast, and ignorant of the foes who had so recently invaded their solitudes, had descended the ravine opposite the fort, with the intention of crossing the river. The Esquimaux had perceived this, and keeping themselves and their kayaks concealed until most of the animals were in the water, and the leaders of the herd more than two-thirds over, they then gave chase, and getting between the deer and the opposite shore, cut off their retreat, and drove them towards their encampment.

Here the slaughter commenced, and Stanley and Frank arrived at the scene of action while they were in the midst of the wholesale destruction. In all directions the kayaks, with their solitary occupants, were darting about hither and thither like arrows in the midst of the affrighted animals; none of which, however, were speared until they were driven quite close to the shore. In their terror, the deer endeavoured to escape by swimming in different directions; but the long double-bladed paddles of the Esquimaux sent the light kayaks after them like lightning, and a sharp prick on their flanks turned them in the right direction. There were so many deer, however, that a few succeeded in gaining the land; but here the guns of the traders awaited them. In the midst of this wild scene, Frank’s attention was arrested by the cool proceedings of an Esquimau, whose name was Chacooto. He had several times exhibited a degree of shrewdness beyond his fellows during his residence near the fort, and was evidently a man of importance in the tribe. Chacooto had collected together a band of the herd, amounting to fifteen, and, by dint of cool decision and quick movements, had driven them to within a few yards of the shore, exactly opposite the spot whereon his tent stood. One young buck, of about two years old, darted away from the rest more than once, but, with a sweep of the paddle and a prick of the lance, Chacooto turned it back again, while a quiet sarcastic smile played on his countenance. Having driven the herd close enough in for his purpose, the Esquimau ended the career of the refractory buck with a single thrust of his lance, and then proceeded coolly to stab them all one after another.

“Och, the spalpeen!” said a voice at Frank’s ear. “’Tis himsilf knows how to do it, an’ no mistake. Musha! his lance goes out and in like a thailor’s needle; an’ he niver strikes more nor wance, the haythen!”

“He certainly does know how to do it, Bryan,” replied Frank; “and it’s a comfort to know that every thrust kills in a moment. I like to see as little of the appearance of cruelty as possible in work of this kind.”

“Arrah! there’s wan that’ll chate ’im, anyhow,” cried Bryan, throwing forward his gun in nervous haste, as one of the deer gained the land, despite Chacooto’s rapidity, and bounded towards the hills.

Frank smiled at the eager haste of his companion, who was one of the poor shots of the party, and, consequently, always in a hurry. “Now, Bryan, there’s a chance. Take your time. Just behind the shoulder; a little low, for that gun kicks horribly.”

“Murder and blazes, she won’t go off!” cried the exasperated Irishman, as, after a wavering effort to take aim, he essayed unsuccessfully to pull the trigger.