The Giant of the North: Pokings Round the Pole by R. M. Ballantyne (best historical biographies TXT) 📕

that I forgot it. However, I’ll ask Amalatok to send a young man back for it. I’m persuaded we cannot now be more than a few miles distant from our goal.”

“I quite agree with you, uncle, for when I looked at the north star last night it seemed to me as directly in the zenith as it was possible to imagine.”

“Ay, lad; but the unaided eye is deceptive. A few miles of difference cannot be distinguished by it. When did the Pole star become visible?”

“Only last night; I fancied I had made it out the night before, but was not quite sure, the daylight, even at the darkest hour, being still too intense to let many of the stars be seen.”

“Well, we shall see. I am of opinion that we are still between twenty and forty miles south of the Pole. Meanwhile, I’ll induce Teyma to get up an expedition to the island of this Maki-what?”

“Tok,” said Leo; “Makitok. Everything almost ends in tok or tuk hereabouts.”

“Who, and what, is this man?” asked the Captain.

“No one seems to know precisely. His origin has been lost in the mists of antiquity. His first forefather—so tradition styles him—seems, like Melchisedec, to have had no father or mother, and to have come from no one knows where. Anyhow he founded a colony in Great Isle, and Makitok is the present head of all the families.”

Leo then explained about the mystery-thing called buk, which was wrapped up in innumerable pieces of sealskin.

“Strange,” said the Captain, “passing strange. All you tell me makes me the more anxious to visit this man of the valley. You say there is no chance of Grabantak being able to take the reins of government again for a long time?”

“None. He has got a shake that will keep him helpless for some time to come. And this is well, for Teyma will be ready to favour any project that tends towards peace or prosperity.”

Now, while preparations for the northern expedition were being made, our friend Oolichuk went a-wooing. And this is the fashion in which he did it.

Arraying himself one day, like any other lovesick swain, in his best, he paid a ceremonial visit to Oblooria, who lived with Merkut, the wife of Grabantak, in a hut at the eastern suburb of the village. Oolichuk’s costume was simple, if not elegant. It consisted of an undercoat of bird-skins, with the feathers inwards; bearskin pantaloons with the hair out; an upper coat of the grey seal; dogskin socks and sealskin boots.

That young Eskimo did not visit his bride empty-handed. He carried a bundle containing a gift—skins of the young eider-duck to make an undergarment for his lady-love, two plump little auks with which to gratify her palate, and a bladder of oil to wash them down and cause her heart to rejoice.

Good fortune favoured this brave man, for he met Oblooria at a lonely part of the shore among the boulders.

Romance lies deep in the heart of an Eskimo—so deep that it is not perceptible to the naked eye. Whatever the Poloe warrior and maiden felt, they took care not to express in words. But Oolichuk looked unutterable things, and invited Oblooria to dine then and there. The lady at once assented with a bashful smile, and sat down on a boulder. Oolichuk sat down beside her, and presented the bundle of under-clothing.

While the lady was examining this with critical eyes, the gentleman prepared the food. Taking one of the auks, he twisted off its head, put his forefinger under the integuments of the neck, drew the skin down backwards, and the bird was skinned. Then he ran his long thumb-nail down the breast and sliced off a lump, which he presented to the lady with the off-hand air of one who should say, “If you don’t want it you may let it alone!”

Raw though the morsel was, Oblooria accepted it with a pleased look, and ate it with relish. She also accepted the bladder, and, putting it to her lips, pledged him in a bumper of oil.

Oolichuk continued this process until the first auk was finished. He then treated the second bird in the same manner, and assisted his lady-love to consume it, as well as the remainder of the oil. Conversation did not flow during the first part of the meal, but, after having drunk deeply, their lips were opened and the feast of reason began. It consisted chiefly of a running commentary by the man on the Kablunets and their ways, and appreciative giggles on the part of the woman; but they were interrupted at the very commencement by the sudden appearance of one of the Kablunets sauntering towards them.

They rose instantly and rambled away in opposite directions, absorbed in contemplation—the one of the earth, and the other of the sky.

Three days after that, Captain Vane and his party approached the shores of Great Isle. It was low like the other islands of Flatland, but of greater extent, insomuch that its entire circumference could not be seen from its highest central point. Like the other islands it was quite destitute of trees, but the low bush was luxuriantly dense, and filled, they were told, with herds of reindeer and musk-oxen. Myriads of wild-fowl—from the lordly swan to the twittering sandpiper—swarmed among its sedgy lakelets, while grouse and ptarmigan were to be seen in large flocks on its uplands. The land was clothed in mosses and grasses of the richest green, and decked with variegated wild-flowers and berries.

The voyagers were received with deep interest and great hospitality by the inhabitants of the coast, who, it seemed, never quarrelled with the neighbouring islanders or went to war.

Makitok dwelt in the centre of the island. Thither they therefore went the following day.

It was afternoon when they came to the valley in which dwelt the angekok, or, as Red Indians would have styled him, the medicine-man.

It was a peculiar valley. Unlike other vales it had neither outlet or inlet, but was a mere circular basin or depression of vast extent, the lowest part of which was in its centre. The slope towards the centre was so gradual that the descent was hardly perceived, yet Captain Vane could not resist the conviction that the lowest part of the vale must be lower than the surface of the sea.

The rich luxuriance of herbage in Great Isle seemed to culminate in this lovely vale. At the centre and lowest part of the valley, Makitok, or rather Makitok’s forefathers, had built their dwelling. It was a hut, resembling the huts of the Eskimos. No other hut was to be seen. The angekok loved solitude.

Beside the hut there stood a small truncated cone about fifteen feet high, on the summit of which sat an old white-bearded man, who intently watched the approaching travellers.

“Behold—Makitok!” said Teyma as they drew near.

The old man did not move. He appeared to be over eighty years of age, and, unlike Eskimos in general, had a bushy snow-white beard. The thin hair on his head was also white, and his features were good.

Our travellers were not disappointed with this strange recluse, who received them with an air of refinement and urbanity so far removed from Eskimo manners and character, that Captain Vane felt convinced he must be descended from some other branch of the human family. Makitok felt and expressed a degree of interest in the objects of the expedition which had not been observed in any Eskimo, except Chingatok, and he was intelligent and quick of perception far before most of those who surrounded him.

“And what have you to say about yourself?” asked the captain that evening, after a long animated conversation on the country and its productions.

“I have little to say,” replied the old man, sadly. “There is no mystery about my family except its beginning in the long past.”

“But is not all mystery in the long past?” asked the Captain.

“True, my son, but there is a difference in my mystery. Other Eskimos can trace back from son to father till they get confused and lost, as if surrounded by the winter-fogs. But when I trace back—far back—I come to one man—my first father, who had no father, it is said, and who came no one knows from where. My mind is not confused or lost; it is stopped!”

“Might not the mystery-bundle that you call buk explain matters?” asked Alf.

When this was translated, the old man for the first time looked troubled.

“I dare not open it,” he said in an undertone, as if speaking to himself. “From father to son we have held it sacred. It must grow—ever grow—never diminish!”

“It’s a pity he looks at it in that light,” remarked Leo to Benjy, as they lay down to sleep that night. “I have no doubt that the man whom he styles first father wrapped up the thing, whatever it is, to keep it safe, not to make a mystery of it, and that his successors, having begun with a mistaken view, have now converted the re-wrapping of the bundle by each successive heir into a sacred obligation. However, we may perhaps succeed in overcoming the old fellow’s prejudices. Good-night, Benjy.”

A snore from Benjy showed that Leo’s words had been thrown away, so, with a light laugh, he turned over, and soon joined his comrade in the land of dreams.

For two weeks the party remained on Great Isle, hunting, shooting, fishing, collecting, and investigating; also, we may add, astonishing the natives.

During that period many adventures of a more or less exciting nature befell them, which, however, we must pass over in silence. At the end of that time, the youth who had been sent for the Captain’s sextant and other philosophical instruments arrived with them all—thermometers, barometers, chronometers, wind and water gauges, pendulums, etcetera, safe and sound.

As the instruments reached Cup Valley, (so Benjy had styled Makitok’s home), in the morning, it was too early for taking trustworthy observations. The Captain therefore employed the time in erecting an observatory. For this purpose he selected, with Makitok’s permission, the truncated cone close to the recluse’s dwelling. Here, after taking formal possession and hoisting the Union Jack, he busied himself, in a state of subdued excitement, preparing for the intended observations.

“I’ll fix the latitude and longitude in a few hours,” he said. “Meantime, Leo, you and Benjy had better go off with the rifle and fetch us something good for dinner.”

Leo and Benjy were always ready to go a-hunting. They required no second bidding, but were soon rambling over the slopes or wading among the marshes of the island in pursuit of game.

Leo carried his repeater; Benjy the shot-gun. Both wore native Eskimo boots as long as the leg, which, being made of untanned hide, are, when soaked, thoroughly waterproof. (See Note.)

Oolichuk and Butterface carried the game-bags, and these were soon filled with such game as was thought best for food. Sending them back to camp with orders to empty the bags and return, Leo and Benjy took to the uplands in search of nobler game. It was not difficult to find. Soon a splendid stag was shot by Leo and a musk-ox by Benjy.

Not long after this, the bag-bearers returned.

“You shoots mos’ awful well, Massas,” said Butterface; “but it’s my ’pinion dat you bof better go home, for Captain Vane he go mad!”

“What d’you mean, Butterface?” asked Leo.

“I mean dat de Capp’n he’s hoed mad, or suffin like it, an’ Massa Alf not mush better.”

A good deal amused and surprised by the negro’s statement, the two hunters hastened back to Makitok’s hut, where they indeed found Captain Vane in a state of great excitement.

“Well, uncle, what’s the news?” asked Leo; “found your latitude higher than you expected?”

“Higher!” exclaimed the Captain, seizing his nephew by both hands and shaking them. “Higher! I should think so—couldn’t be higher. There’s neither latitude nor longitude here, my boy! I’ve found it! Come—come up, and I’ll show you the exact spot—the North Pole itself!”

He dragged Leo to the