ADRIFT ON AN ICE-FLOE. 



373 



One of the blocks of snow had fallen in, 

 but was soon replaced, though not until 

 we were covered with snow. The raw seal 

 meat was passed around for another meal. 

 The storm had abated, although the snow 

 was still falling. So we stayed in our icy 

 quarters for almost another day; drifting 

 we knew not where. 



On the 2nd day the storm ceased and 

 the sun came out bright and warm. We 

 were pretty well chilled when we crawled 

 out, and felt the need of exercise to start 

 circulation. Most of the snow had been 

 blown off the floe, except against the ice- 

 bergs, where it was drifted. There was, 

 apparently, no chance of escape from the 

 ice; and we were getting farther away 

 from shore all the time. 



The Eskimo looked in vain for the ship 

 or for signs of other members of their race, 

 exclaiming: " Kayak terrongy too." (We 

 have no kayak, it is gone.) Several days 

 went by, we anxiously watching and wait- 

 ing. Our party lived on seal meat, with 

 an occasional gull for a change. There 

 were plenty of seals; and as long as these 

 lasted, and the floe held together, we could 

 at least live and hope. 



The natives were expert seal hunters. 

 They insisted on using their harpoons, for, 

 they said, they made no noise. 



On seeing a seal, one of the Eskimo 

 would get down on his hands and knees 

 and crawl toward it. The instant the seal 

 looked up, the hunter would drop flat, face 

 down, and imitate the movements of a seal. 

 Dressed as he was in furs, he could hardly 

 be distinguished, at a distance, from the 

 game he was hunting. This was continued 

 until the hunter crawled near enough to 

 throw his harpoon. Then, waiting until the 

 seal dropped its head, the hunter would 

 raise himself on one elbow, and the har- 

 poon would be hurled, like a flash, into the 

 unsuspecting prey. One end of the line 

 was held in the hunter's other hand, so it 

 was the work of only a few minutes to pull 

 the seal to the edge of the ice. A rap on 

 the head, with a spear, and the hunt was 

 over. 



We had been on the floe about a week, 

 when, one day, something was found that 

 at a distance looked like a barrel frozen 

 in the ice. It proved to be a coal-oil bar- 

 rel, and near it were several pieces of a 

 boat. The barrel was empty, but with the 

 staves and pieces of wreck, we could have 

 fire enough to cook some meat. 



The seal were getting shy; finally they 

 quit coming to our floe altogether. One 

 evening we ate our last piece of meat; but 

 the dogs remained. There was no alterna- 

 tive — it was dog meat or starve. The weak- 

 est of the poor brutes was killed and fed 

 to the rest of the pack. A strong, healthy 

 one was selected for ourselves. 



Part of it was boiled in sea water, but 

 when it was served there was a look on 



the faces of some as if the thought alone 

 was enough. Gradually we all came to it. 

 Hunger will make a man do most any- 

 thing! In a few days the meat was eaten 

 with a relish. We were now living on 2 

 meals of this each day. The number of 

 our dogs grew less, until finally the last 

 one would have to be killed in 2 days. One 

 of the sleds had been used for fuel. 

 - A bright thought came to one of the na- 

 tives one morning. He proposed that a 

 kayak be made from the remaining sleds 

 and the skins of seals. 



The 3 Eskimo, assisted by us, set to work 

 with a will. In a short time a rough frame 

 was lashed together and the seal skins were 

 scraped ready to be sewed on. Now, if 

 an Eskimo owns a needle, he always carries 

 it with him, in order to keep his boots in 

 repair. All three of ours produced needles 

 from little sealskin pouches, while for 

 thread, they used sinew of reindeer, which 

 is also carried along. 



When the rough canoe was finished, it 

 would hold only one man. One of the 

 natives suggested that he be allowed to go, 

 paddling from floe to floe, following the 

 leads to shore, where he would find others 

 of his tribe. He would then send help to 

 us. The man said he recognized a certain 

 high peak ahead. If he could make that, 

 he was sure of finding natives. 



A shout came from one of the men. On 

 looking in the direction indicated, we saw 

 that our floe had drifted against an im- 

 mense grounded iceberg, and we were like- 

 ly to stay here some time. 



The native who was to go in the kayak 

 started immediately after the floe stopped 

 drifting, knowing he could easily locate us 

 again by the big berg against which wc 

 were lodged. We watched the little boat 

 depart, with much anxiety, and stood gaz- 

 ing after it until it was lost behind the 

 hummocks of ice. The next day we walked 

 up and down the floe, looking and listen- 

 ing. In the afternoon a shout came across 

 the water. We saw figures of men in the 

 distance, among the hummocks; then, 

 presently 4 kayaks came into full view, 

 each paddled by an Eskimo. 



Our friend had found a village, and these 

 men at once started to our rescue. Two 

 kayaks were lashed side by side, and on 

 these 2 men could be carried with no dan- 

 ger of upsetting. When all, including our 

 lone dog, were over a lead, we would make 

 a short cut across the floe, carrying the 

 kayaks, until we again reached the water. 

 In crossing the last lead, our dog plunged 

 into the icy water and swam to shore — he 

 was probably more anxious than we to 

 reach land again. 



The little village was made up of 7 fami- 

 lies, on a low, flat beach. These people 

 treated us kindly, and made us as comfort- 

 able as possible. 



Our camp was a long distance from there, 



