Awak, A walrus.

Ka-ka! Go 'long! St-'boy!

Oomiak, A large boat.

Oomiak-sook, A ship.

Kannau-weet-ameg, A dart.

Kina? What is it? What's that?

Twau-ve! Begone! Leave!

CHAPTER XV.

Winter at Hand.--We hold a Serious Council.--"Cold! oh, how Cold!"--A Midnight Gun.--The Return of "The Curlew."--"A J'yful 'Casion."--A Grand Distribution of Presents.--Good-by to the Husky Girls.--A Singular Savage Song.--We All get Sentimental.--Adieu to "Isle Aktok."--Homeward Bound.--We engage "The Curlew" and her Captain for Another Year.

Aug. 11.--Water froze last night nearly half an inch of ice. It seemed like December in our home lat.i.tude. All day the sky was hazy and cold, with driving mists. The wind blew from the north and north-west almost continually. A fortnight had made a great change in the weather.

Summer seemed to be fast merging into winter. During the afternoon and evening we held a serious "council of war;" for all hope of the return of "The Curlew" was now well-nigh abandoned. After some discussion, it was voted to stay here on the island during the winter, rather than attempt either to get out of the straits in our boat, or reach Nain overland. During the morning _Shug-la-wina_ had come to our tent, and pointed to the _oomiak_ then off to the southward. We knew that it was to urge us to allow them to depart southward into Labrador. The question now arose with us, Should we allow them to go according to their habit? Raed thought we ought to let them go, and not subject them to the peril of a winter pa.s.sed here on the island; but Kit and Wade opposed this proposition _in toto_.

"Once on the mainland," said Kit, "and our control over them will cease. They would either desert us, or else be joined by numbers whom we should find it impossible to govern. Not an inch shall they budge from here while I stay."

And in this view he was supported by Wade and the sailors. Indeed, I voted to keep them with us myself. To let them go seemed suicidal.

"But they may all starve here before spring," Raed urged. "That would be terrible!"

"Well, we must take measures to see that they don't starve," replied Kit. "Now's our chance to show them the advantages of our administration. To-morrow we must begin a regular autumnal hunt. Every seal and every bear, and such of the sea-fowl as have not already flown, we must capture for winter-store. We must keep them at it sharp. There's no need of starving, if we manage rightly. To-morrow we will begin a regular hunt,--send out hunting-parties every day.

Whatever is brought in we will take charge of, and deal out as they need."

"In case they were like to starve, a lot of these worthless dogs could be killed for them to eat," said Donovan. "It wouldn't hurt my feelings to slaughter the whole pack of them."

"It no need to come to that, if we manage rightly," replied Kit.

Thus it was left. The only cause for immediate alarm was the ghastly fact, that we had only eleven cartridges remaining.

Toward evening it came on to snow. A dreary night settled down upon the island. But we lighted our Husky lamp [it would appear that they had procured a stone lamp from the Esquimaux], and made things as cheery as we could. For the past week we had given up sentinel-duty, save what Guard could do. There seemed no call for it. About ten we all lay down on our bear-skins, and, covering them over us, were soon comfortable. But, somehow, that night my head was full of dreams. I dreamed everything a fellow could well imagine, and a good many things no one ever could imagine awake. I went all over the stern experiences of the past two months. Again we were hunting bears in "Mazard's Bay."

Again we were tossing amid the ice. At that stage of my fancies, the dogs probably got to fighting; for suddenly I was back on our desolate isle. It was mid-winter; cold! oh, how cold! The island was a ma.s.s of ice. _Wutchee_ and _Wunchee_ had frozen: we were all freezing.

Suddenly one of the Company's ships hove in sight, sailing over the ice-fields, and began a bombardment of our island. They had found us at last, and now were about to sh.e.l.l us out, together with our miserable subjects. How their heavy guns roared! Their sh.e.l.ls came dropping down with ruinous explosions. Then one came roaring into our tent. There was a moment of horrible suspense. The fuse tizzed.

_Bang!_ We were blown to atoms!

I started. It had waked me,--something had. The lamp gave a sickly light. Kit was getting up too; so was Wade. I was already on my feet, near where we had stacked our guns.

"Did you fire a musket?" Kit demanded.

"What did you fire at?" exclaimed Wade.

Raed was rousing up; so were the sailors. I hastily disavowed any shooting on my part.

"Well, what was _that_, then?"

"Certainly heard something," said Wade.

"I thought some of you fired," Raed observed.

They were all a little suspicious of me.

"He fired one of those muskets in his sleep!" I heard Wade whisper to Kit as we pulled aside the flap of the tent to look out.

It was still snowing stormily. A cold, fine gust blew in our faces. A bleak, dim light rested on the whitened earth. It was half-past two, morning. Kit had turned back to the stack of muskets, to see if any of them had been discharged doubtless, when like a thunder-peal came the quick report of a cannon. It made us jump. Then in a moment we saw _it in each other's suddenly-brightening faces_.

"The Curlew!" shouted Donovan.

Catching up our hats, and seizing each a musket, we rushed out into the storm. A dozen of the Esquimaux had come to the doors of their huts, jabbering. Without stopping to enlighten them, however, we pulled up our jacket-collars, and ran off toward the sh.o.r.e, stumbling over stones and blundering into holes in our headlong haste; Guard racing ahead, barking loudly.

In less than five minutes we had pa.s.sed over the intervening half mile, and were coming out on the sh.o.r.e, where the snowy rocks stood dim-white and ghostly against the wild, black ocean, tumbling in with heavy swash and roar. So thick was the storm, and so dark was the air, that we could scarcely see a hundred yards in any direction. Bringing up among a lot of Husky _kayaks_ lying amid the snow, we paused to listen. Momentarily a blaze of fire reddened the sea and the white flakes for a second, and the sharp report of our old howitzer shook the stormy air.

"Hurrah!" yelled Kit.

"Hurrah, hurrah!"

Crack, crack, crack, went the muskets!

"_Hurrah!_" came faintly from out the storm, a quarter of a mile off.

We danced, we capered, at the risk of our necks, among the slippery _kayaks_. We fairly hooted for joy.

"Have you got the boat there?" hailed Capt. Mazard with the trumpet.

"Will you come off now?"

"Boat laid up!" shouted Kit. "Wait till light!"

"All right!" was the reply.

Nothing more could be done then. We went back to our tent.

"I suppose we ought to help the Huskies get their _oomiak_ back to the water," Kit remarked.

"Yes; it would be a rather hard job for them alone," said Wade.

_Shug-la-wina_ came peeping into the tent with an inquiring look.

"_Oomiak-sook!_" Kit said, pointing off to the sea.

He _yeh-yehed_, and went away.

"We must make it up to these poor people all we can," said Kit.

"We'll make them such a present as they never saw before!" Raed exclaimed.

It was already growing light. We pulled down our tent to get out the _oomiak_-mast; and mustering the men, all of them, got the _oomiak_ on the mast-pole and the oars, as before, and carried it back to the sh.o.r.e. There was no resistance now. They were all _yeh-yeh-ing_ and _heh-heh-ing_. This took about an hour. We then carried our own boat down in the same way. The whole population followed us. By this time it was broad daylight. The storm had slackened to a few straggling flakes. There lay "The Curlew," stern to the sh.o.r.e, headed to the wind, off five or six hundred yards. We could not resist the temptation of jumping into the boat and pulling out to her instantly.

How beautiful she looked to us! Why, I do believe we could have imitated poor little _Wutchee_ and _Wunchee_, standing back there on the snowy ledges, and licked the schooner all over! We came up under the side. Such a cheer! Capt. Mazard's honest, brave face glowing with pleasure, and all the rest of the crew hearty with rough affection!