Red Rooney: The Last of the Crew

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER THREE.

  OUR HERO AND HIS FRIENDS BECOME FAMILIAR.

  It was a fine balmy brilliant morning when Red Rooney awoke from themost refreshing sleep he had enjoyed for many a day, gazed thoughtfullyup at the blackened roof of the Eskimo hut, and wondered where he was.

  There was nothing that met his eyes to recall his scattered senses, forall the members of the family had gone out to their various avocations,and one of them having thrust a sealskin into the hole in the wall whichserved for a window the sun found admittance only through crevices, andbut faintly illumined the interior.

  The poor man felt intensely weak, yet delightfully restful--so much sothat mere curiosity seemed to have died within him, and he was contentto lie still and think of whatever his wayward mind chose to fasten on,or not to think at all, if his mind saw fit to adopt that course in itsvagaries. In short, he felt as if he had no more control over histhoughts than a man in a dream, and was quite satisfied that it shouldbe so.

  As his eyes became accustomed to the dim light, however, he began slowlyto perceive that the walls around him were made of rough unhewn stone,that the rafters were of drift timber, and the roof of moss, orsomething like it; but the whole was so thickly coated with soot as topresent a uniform appearance of blackness. He also saw, from theposition in which he lay, a stone vessel, like a primitive classicallamp, with a wick projecting from its lip, but no flame. Several skullsof large animals lay on the floor within the range of his vision, andsome sealskin and other garments hung on pegs of bone driven into thewall. Just opposite to him was the entrance to the tunnel, which formedthe passage or corridor of the mansion, and within it gleamed a subduedlight which entered from the outer end.

  Rooney knew that he saw these things, and took note of them, yet if youhad asked him what he had seen it is probable that he would have beenunable to tell--so near had he approached to the confines of that landfrom which no traveller returns.

  Heaving a deep sigh, the man uttered the words, "Thank God!" for thethird time within the last four-and-twenty hours. It was an appropriateprelude to his sinking into that mysterious region of oblivion in whichthe mind of worn-out man finds rest, and out of which it can be sofamiliarly yet mysteriously summoned--sometimes by his ownpre-determination, but more frequently by a fellow-mortal.

  He had not lain long thus when the tunnel was suddenly darkened by anadvancing body, which proved to be the mistress of the mansion.

  Nuna, on thrusting her head into the interior, looked inquiringly upbefore venturing to rise. After a good stare at the slumberingKablunet, she went cautiously towards the window and removed theobstruction. A flood of light was let in, which illumined, but did notawaken, the sleeper.

  Cautiously and on tip-toe the considerate little woman went about herhousehold duties, but with her eyes fixed, as if in fascination, on herinteresting guest.

  It is at all times an awkward as well as a dangerous mode of proceeding,to walk in one direction and look in another. In crossing the hut, Nunafell over a walrus skull, upset the lamp, and sent several otherarticles of furniture against the opposite wall with a startling crash.The poor creature did not rise. She was too much overwhelmed withshame. She merely turned her head as she lay, and cast a horrified gazeat the sleeper.

  To her great joy she saw that Red Rooney had not been disturbed. Heslept through it all with the placidity of an infant. Much relieved,the little woman got up, and moved about more freely. She replenishedthe lamp with oil, and kindled it. Then she proceeded to roast and fryand grill bear ribs, seal chops, and walrus steaks with a dexterity thatwas quite marvellous, considering the rude culinary implements withwhich she had to deal. In a short time breakfast was prepared, and Nunawent out to announce the fact. Slowly and with the utmost caution eachmember of the family crept in, and, before rising, cast the sameadmiring, inquiring, partially awe-stricken gaze at the unconsciousKablunet. Okiok, Nunaga, Norrak, Ermigit, and Tumbler all filed in, andsat down in solemn silence.

  Okiok took Tumbler on his knee, so as to be ready to throttle him on theshortest notice if he should venture to cry, or even crow.

  But as the best of human arrangements often fail through unforeseencircumstances, so the quietude was broken a second time that morningunexpectedly. One of the hungry dogs outside, rendered desperate by thedelicious fumes that issued from the hut, took heart, dashed in, caughtup a mass of blubber, and attempted to make off. A walrus rib, however,from Norrak's unerring hand, caught him on the haunch as he entered thetunnel, and caused him to utter such a piercing howl that Red Rooney notonly awoke, but sat bolt upright, and gazed at the horrified Eskimosinquiringly.

  Evidently the seaman was touched with a sense of the ludicrous, for hemerely smiled and lay down again. But he did not try to sleep. Havingbeen by that time thoroughly refreshed, he began to sniff the scent ofsavoury food as the war-horse is said to scent the battle from afar--that is, with an intense longing to "go at it." Okiok, guessing thestate of his feelings, brought him a walrus rib.

  Red Rooney accepted it, and began to eat at once without the use ofknife or fork.

  "Thankee, friend. It's the same I'll do for yourself if you ever cometo starvation point when I've got a crust to spare."

  Charmed beyond measure at hearing their native tongue from the mouth ofa foreigner, the stare of the whole party became more intense, and for afew moments they actually ceased to chew--a sure sign that they were, soto speak, transfixed with interest.

  "My man," said Rooney, after a few minutes' intense application to therib, "what is your name?"

  "Okiok," replied the Eskimo.

  "Okiok," muttered the seaman to himself in English; "why, that's theEskimo word for winter." Then, after a few minutes' further attentionto the rib, "Why did they name you after the cold season o' the year?"

  "I know not," said Okiok. "When my father named me I was very small,and could not ask his reason. He never told any one. Before I was oldenough to ask, a bear killed him. My mother thought it was because thewinter when I was born was very cold and long."

  Again the hungry man applied himself to the rib, and nothing more wassaid till it was finished. Feeling still somewhat fatigued, Rooneysettled himself among his furs in a more upright position, and gave hisattention to the natives, who instantly removed their eyes from him, andresumed eating with a will. Of course they could not restrain furtiveglances, but they had ceased to stare.

  In a few minutes Okiok paused, and in turn became the questioner.

  "No Kablunet ever came here before," he said. "We are glad to see you;but why do you come, and why alone, and why starving?"

  "Not very easy to answer these questions off-hand to the likes of you,"said Rooney. "However, I'll try. You've heard of the settlements--thetraders--no doubt, in the far-off land over _there_?"

  Rooney pointed to the southward, the direction of which he knew from theposition of the sun and the time of day, which latter he guessedroughly.

  The Eskimo nodded. From the special character of the nod it was evidentthat he meant it to express intelligence. And it did!

  "Well," continued Rooney, "you may have heard that big, big--tremendousbig--kayaks, or rather oomiaks, have come to that country, an' landedmen and women, who have built houses--igloos--and have settled there totrade?"

  At this his host nodded with such decision, and so frequently, as toshow that he not only knew of the Kablunet settlements, but was deeplyinterested in them, and would be glad to know something more.

  "Well, then," continued the sailor, "I came out from a great and richcountry, called England, in one o' these big tradin' canoes, which waswrecked close to the settlements, and there I stayed with my mates,waiting for another big kayak to come an' take us off; but no kayak camefor two winters--so that's the way I came to understand an' speak theEskimo--"

  At this point, as if it could endure the stranger's voice no longer,Tumbler set up a sudden and tremendous howl. He was instantly seized,half
strangled, metaphorically sat upon, and reduced to sobbing silence,when the sailor resumed his narrative.

  "All that time I was workin' off and on for the--"

  He stopped abruptly, not having any words in the native language bywhich to name the Moravian Missionaries. The Eskimos waited with eagerlooks for the next word.

  "Well, well," resumed Rooney, with a pathetic smile, "it _is_ a pity thewhole world don't speak one language. I was workin' for, for--theseKablunets who have come to Greenland, (that's the name we've given toyour country, you must know)--who have come to Greenland, not to trade,but to teach men about God--about Torngarsuk, the Good Spirit--who madeall the world, and men, and beasts."

  At this point the interest of Okiok became, if possible, more intense.

  "Do the Kablunets know God, the Good Spirit? Have they seen him?" heasked.

  "They haven't exactly seen Him," replied the sailor; "but they have gota book, a writing, which tells about Him, and they know something of Hisnature and His wishes."

  Of course this reference to a book and a writing--which Rooney hadlearned to speak of from the Moravians--was quite incomprehensible tothe Eskimo. He understood enough of what was said, however, to see thedrift of his visitor's meaning.

  "Huk!" he exclaimed, with a look of satisfaction; "Angut will be glad tohear this."

  "Who is Angut?" asked the sailor.

  The whole party looked peculiarly solemn at this question.

  "Angut is a great angekok," answered Okiok, in a low voice.

  "Oh! he is one of your wise men, is he?" returned Rooney, with aninvoluntary shrug of his shoulders, for he had heard and seen enoughduring his residence at the settlements to convince him that theangekoks, or sorcerers, or wise men of the Eskimos, were mostly a set ofclever charlatans, like the medicine-men of the North American Indians,who practised on the credulity and superstition of their fellow-men inorder to gain their own ends. Some of these angekoks, no doubt, werepartly self-deceivers, believing to some extent the deceptions whichthey practised, and desiring more or less the welfare of their dupes;but others were thorough, as well as clever, rogues, whose sole objectwas self-interest.

  "Well, then," continued Rooney, "after I'd been two winters with theseKablunets, another big kayak came to the settlement, not to trade, norto teach about God, but to go as far as they could into the ice, and tryto discover new lands."

  "Poor men!" remarked Okiok pitifully; "had they no lands of their own?"

  "O, yes; they had lands at home," replied the sailor, laughing.

  "Huk!" exclaimed several of the natives, glancing at each other withquite a pleased expression. It was evident that they were relieved aswell as glad to find that their visitor could laugh, for his worn andwoe-begone expression, which was just beginning to disappear under theinfluence of rest and food, had induced the belief that he could only gothe length of smiling.

  "Yes," continued the sailor; "they had lands, more or less--some ofthem, at least--and some of them had money; but you must know, Okiok,that however much a Kablunet may have, he always wants more."

  "Is he _never_ content?" asked the Eskimo.

  "Never; at least not often."

  "Wonderful!" exclaimed Okiok; "when I am stuffed with seal-blubber asfull as I can hold, I want nothing more."

  Again the sailor laughed, and there was something so hearty and jovialin the sound that it became infectious, and the natives joined him,though quite ignorant of the exciting cause. Even Tumbler tookadvantage of the occasion to give vent to another howl, which, havingsomething of the risible in it, was tolerated. When silence wasrestored, the visitor resumed--

  "I joined these searchers, as they wanted an interpreter, and we cameaway north here. Nothing particular happened at first. We had a dealof squeezing an' bumping in the ice of course, but got little damage,till about six days back I think, or thereabouts, when we got a nip thatseemed to me to cut the bottom clean out o' the big kayak, for when theice eased off again it went straight to the bottom. We had only time tothrow some provisions on the ice and jump out before it went down. Asour provisions were not sufficient to last more than a few days, I wassent off with some men over the floe to hunt for seals. We only sawone, asleep near its hole. Bein' afraid that the sailors might wakenit, I told them to wait, and I would go after it alone. They agreed,but I failed. The seal was lively. He saw me before I got near enough,and dived into his hole. On returnin' to where I had left the men Ifound a great split in the ice, which cut me off from them. The spacewidened. I had no small kayak to take me across. It was too cold toswim. The floe on which my comrades stood was driftin', along wi' thebig floe, where the rest of them were. The ice on which I stood wasfast. A breeze was blowin' at the time, which soon carried the packaway. In an hour they were out of sight, and I saw them no more. Iknew that it was land-ice on which I stood, and also that the coastcould not be far off; but the hummocks and the snow-drift prevented mefrom seein' far in any direction. I knew also that death would be myportion if I remained where I was, so I set off straight for land asfast as I could go. How long I've been on the way I can't tell, for Idon't feel quite sure, and latterly my brain has got into a confusedstate. I had a small piece of seal meat in my pouch when I started.When it was done I cut a strip off my sealskin coat an' sucked that. Itjust kept body and soul together. At last I saw the land, but fell, andshould have died there if the Good Spirit had not sent you to save me,Okiok--so give us a shake of your hand, old boy!"

  To this narrative the natives listened with breathless attention, but atthe conclusion Okiok looked at the extended hand in surprise, notknowing what was expected of him. Seeing this, Rooney leaned forward,grasped the man's right hand, shook it warmly, patted it on the back,then, raising it to his lips, kissed it.

  Stupid indeed would the man have been, and unusually savage, who couldhave failed to understand that friendship and good-will lay in theseactions. But Okiok was not stupid. On the contrary, he was brightlyintelligent, and, being somewhat humorous in addition, he seizedRooney's hand instantly after, and repeated the operation, with a broadsmile on his beaming face. Then, turning suddenly to Tumbler, hegrasped and shook that naked infant's hand, as it sat on the floor in apool of oil from a lamp which it had overturned.

  An explosion of laughter from everybody showed that the little joke wasappreciated; but Okiok became suddenly grave, and sobered his familyinstantly, as he turned to Rooney and said--

  "I wish that Angut had been there. He would have saved your big oomiakand all the men."

  "Indeed. Is he then such a powerful angekok?"

  "Yes; very, very powerful. There never was an angekok like him."

  "I suppose not," returned Rooney, with a feeling of doubt, which,however, he took care to hide. "What like is this great wise man--verybig, I suppose?"

  "No, he is not big, but he is not small. He is middling, and verystrong, like the bear; very active and supple, like the seal or thewhite fox; and very swift, like the deer--and very different from otherangekoks."

  "He must be a fine man," said the sailor, becoming interested in thisangekok; "tell me wherein he differs from others."

  "He is not only strong and wise, but he is good; and he cares nothingfor our customs, or for the ways of other angekoks. He says that theyare all lies and nonsense. Yes, he even says that he is not an angekokat all; but we know better, for he is. Everybody can see that he is.He knows everything; he can do anything. Do I not speak what is true?"

  He turned to his wife and daughter as he spoke. Thus appealed to, Nunasaid it was all true, and Nunaga said it was all _very_ true, andblushed--and, really, for an Eskimo, she looked quite pretty.

  Don't laugh, good reader, at the idea of an Eskimo blushing. Dependupon it, that that is one of those touches of nature which prove thekinship of the world everywhere.

  While they were talking a step was heard outside, and the Eskimos lookedintelligently at each other. They knew that the comer must be a frie
nd,because, had he been a stranger, the dogs would have given notice of hisapproach. Besides, these animals were heard fawning round him as hespoke to them.

  "Ujarak!" exclaimed Okiok, in a low voice.

  "Is Ujarak a friend?" asked the sailor.

  "He is an angekok," said the Eskimo evasively--"a great angekok, but notso great as Angut."

  Another moment, and a man was seen to creep into the tunnel. Standingup when inside, he proved to be a tall, powerful Eskimo, with a notunhandsome but stern countenance, which was somewhat marred by a deepscar over the left eye.