A hunting-expedition, in the course of which the hunters meet with many interesting, dangerous, peculiar, and remarkable experiences, and make acquaintance with seals, walruses, deer, and rabbits.
We must now return to Fred Ellice and his companions, Meetuck the Esquimau, O'Riley, and Joseph West, whom we left while they were on the point of starting on a hunting-expedition.
They took the direction of the ice-hummocks out to sea, and, seated comfortably on a large sledge, were dragged by the team of dogs over the ice at the rate of ten miles an hour.
"Well! did I iver expect to ride a carriage and six?" exclaimed O'Riley in a state of great glee as the dogs dashed forward at full speed, while Meetuck nourished his awful whip, making it crack like a pistol-shot ever and anon.
The sledge on which they travelled was of the very curious and simple construction peculiar to the Esquimaux, and was built by Peter Grim under the direction of Meetuck. It consisted of two runners of about ten feet in length, six inches high, two inches broad, and three feet apart. They were made of tough hickory, slightly curved in front, and were attached to each other by cross-bars. At the stern of the vehicle there was a low back composed of two uprights and a single bar across. The whole machine was fastened together by means of tough lashings of raw seal-hide, so that, to all appearance, it was a rickety affair, ready to fall to pieces. In reality, however, it was very strong. No metal nails of any kind could have held in the keen frost—they would have snapped like glass at the first jolt—but the sealskin fastenings yielded to the rude shocks and twistings to which the sledge was subjected, and seldom gave way, or if they did, were easily and speedily renewed without the aid of any other implement than a knife.
But the whip was the most remarkable part of the equipage. The handle was only sixteen inches in length, but the lash was twenty feet long, made of the toughest seal-skin, and as thick as a man's wrist near the handle, whence it tapered off to a fine point. The labour of using such a formidable weapon is so great that Esquimaux usually, when practicable, travel in couples, one sledge behind the other. The dogs of the last sledge follow mechanically and require no whip, and the riders change about so as to relieve each other. When travelling, the whip trails behind, and can be brought with a tremendous crack that makes the hair fly from the wretch that is struck; and Esquimaux are splendid shots, so to speak. They can hit any part of a dog with certainty, but usually rest satisfied with simply cracking the whip—a sound that produces an answering yell of terror, whether the lash takes effect or not.
Our hunters were clothed in their Esquimau garments, and cut the oddest imaginable figures. They had a soft, rotund, cuddled-up appearance, that was powerfully suggestive of comfort. The sledge carried one day's provisions, a couple of walrus harpoons with a sufficient quantity of rope, four muskets with the requisite ammunition, an Esquimau cooking-lamp, two stout spears, two tarpaulins to spread on the snow, and four blanket sleeping-bags. These last were six feet long, and just wide enough for a man to crawl into at night, feet first.
"What a jolly style of travelling, isn't it?" cried Fred, as the dogs sprang wildly forward, tearing the sledge behind them, Dumps and Poker leading and looking as lively as crickets.
"Well now, isn't it true that wits jump?—that's jist what I was sayin' to meself," remarked O'Riley, grinning from ear to ear as he pulled the fur-hood farther over his head, crossed his arms more firmly on his breast, and tried to double himself up as he sat there like an overgrown rat. "I wouldn't exchange it wid the Lord Mayor o' London and his coach an' six—so I wouldn't.—Arrah! have a care, Meetuck, ye baste, or ye'll have us kilt."
This last exclamation was caused by the reckless driver dashing over a piece of rough ice that nearly capsized the sledge. Meetuck did not answer, but he looked over his shoulder with a quiet smile on his oily countenance.
"Ah, then, ye may laugh," said O'Riley with menacing look, "but av ye break a bone o' me body I'll—"
Down went the dogs into a crack in the ice as he spoke, over went the sledge and hurled them all out upon the ice.
"Musha! but ye've done it!"
"Hallo, West! are you hurt?" cried Fred anxiously, as he observed the sailor fall heavily on the ice.
"Oh no, sir; all right, thank you," replied the man, rising alertly and limping to the sledge. "Only knocked the skin off my shin, sir."
West was a quiet, serious, polite man, an American by birth, who was much liked by the crew in consequence of a union of politeness and modesty with a disposition to work far beyond his strength. He was not very robust, however, and in powers of physical endurance scarcely fitted to engage in an Arctic expedition.
"An' don't ye think it's worth makin' inquiries about me?" cried O'Riley, who had been tossed into a crevice in the hummock, where he lay jammed and utterly unable to move.
Fred and the Esquimau laughed heartily while O'Riley extricated himself from his awkward position. Fortunately no damage was done, and in five minutes they were flying over the frozen sea as madly as ever in the direction of the point at the opposite side of Red-Snow Valley, where a cloud of frost-smoke indicated open water.
"Now, look you, Mr. Meetuck, av ye do that again ye'll better don't, let me tell ye. Sure the back o' me's brack entirely," said O'Riley, as he re-arranged himself with a look of comfort that belied his words. "Och, there ye go again," he cried, as the sledge suddenly fell about six inches from a higher level to a lower, where the floe had cracked, causing the teeth of the whole party to come together with a snap. "A man durs'n't spake for fear o' bitin' his tongue off."
"No fee," said Meetuck, looking over his shoulder with a broader smirk.
"No fee, ye lump of pork! it's a double fee I'll have to pay the dacter an ye go on like that."
No fee was Meetuck's best attempt at the words no fear. He had picked up a little English during his brief sojourn with the sailors, and already understood much of what was said to him; but words were as yet few, and his manner of pronouncing them peculiar.
"Holo! look! look!" cried the Esquimau, suddenly checking the dogs and leaping off the sledge.
"Eh! what! where?" ejaculated Fred, seizing his musket.
"I think I see something, sir," said West, shading his eyes with his hand, and gazing earnestly in the direction indicated by Meetuck.
"So do I, be the mortial," said O'Riley in a hoarse whisper. "I see the mountains and the sky, I do, as plain as the nose on me face!"
"Hush! stop your nonsense, man," said Fred. "I see a deer, I'm certain of it."
Meetuck nodded violently to indicate that Fred was right.
"Well, what's to be done? Luckily we are well to leeward, and it has neither sighted nor scented us."
Meetuck replied by gestures and words to the effect that West and O'Riley should remain with the dogs, and keep them quiet under the shelter of a hummock, while he and Fred should go after the reindeer. Accordingly, away they went, making a pretty long detour in order to gain the shore, and come upon it under the shelter of the grounded floes, behind which they might approach without being seen. In hurrying along the coast they observed the footprints of a musk-ox, and also of several Arctic hares and foxes; which delighted them much, for hitherto they had seen none of these animals, and were beginning to be fearful lest they should not visit that part of the coast at all. Of course Fred knew not what sort of animals had made the tracks in question, but he was an adept at guessing, and the satisfied looks of his companion gave him reason to believe that he was correct in his surmises.
In half-an-hour they came within range, and Fred, after debating with himself for some time as to the propriety of taking the first shot, triumphed over himself, and stepping back a pace, motioned to the Esquimau to fire. But Meetuck was an innate gentleman, and modestly declined; so Fred advanced, took a good aim, and fired.
The deer bounded away, but stumbled as it went, showing that it was wounded.
"Ha! ha! Meetuck," exclaimed Fred, as he recharged in tremendous excitement (taking twice as long to load in consequence), "I've improved a little, you see, in my shoot—oh bother this—ramrod!--tut! tut! there, that's it."
Bang went Meetuck's musket at that moment, and the deer tumbled over upon the snow.
"Well done, old fellow!" cried Fred, springing forward. At the same instant a white hare darted across his path, at which he fired, without even putting the gun to his shoulder, and knocked it over, to his own intense amazement.
The three shots were the signal for the men to come up with the sledge, which they did at full gallop, O'Riley driving, and flourishing the long whip about in a way that soon entangled it hopelessly with the dogs' traces.
"Ah, then, ye've done it this time, ye have, sure enough. Musha! what a purty crature it is. Now, isn't it, West? Stop, then, won't ye (to the restive dogs); ye've broke my heart entirely, and the whip's tied up into iver so many knots. Arrah, Meetuck! ye may drive yer coach yerself for me, you may; I've had more nor enough of it."
In a few minutes the deer and the hare were lashed to the sledge—which the Irishman asserted was a great improvement, inasmuch as the carcass of the former made an excellent seat—and they were off again at full gallop over the floes. They travelled without further interruption or mishap, until they drew near to the open water, when suddenly they came upon a deep fissure or crack in the ice about four feet wide, with water in the bottom. Here they came to a dead stop.
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