The Walrus Hunters: A Romance of the Realms of Ice

“Yes, Tonal’,” said the trader, taking a few whiffs of the long clay pipe which was his usual evening comforter, “I hev a plan, and, strange as it may seem to an unsentimental man like you, love is at the bottom of it.”

“Well, you might have a worse foundation,” returned Mowat, with something of good-natured cynicism on his rugged face.

“Yes,” continued MacSweenie, “that iss at the bottom of it—at least weemen are, an’ that’s the same thing.”

Mowat shook his head doubtfully. “I’m not so sure o’ that,” he said; “no doubt women have a good deal to do wi’ love—but they’re hardly the same thing.”

“Weel, Tonal’, we will not fall out on that point to-night, for I hev got no leisure to dispute. Another time we may tackle it, but I hev other fish to fry just now, an’ we must begin this very night wi’ a grand palaver.”

After a few more vigorous whiffs, and a frown indicative of intense thought, the trader continued—

“I hev no doubt, Tonal’, that you hev observed the curious and, if I may say so, extensive variety of love-makin’ that has broken out in the camp since the arrival o’ these Eskimos?”

“I can’t say that I have,” returned Mowat, gravely.

“Wow, man! for a fuddler ye exhibit a most extraordinary want o’ perception in the more delicate affairs o’ human life. Well, well, it is strange. But I hev observed it, an’ I’m goin’ to turn it to account, if I can.

“You must know that I hev been troubled in my thoughts about that warlike fellow Magadar, for, as you know, he was sweet upon the girl Adolay before she was carried off by the Eskimo; an’ Cheenbuk is such a strong and bold lad that I felt sure there would be mischief between the two about her; but to my surprise an’ satisfaction Magadar hes gone over head an’ ears wi’ that little Eskimo girl Cowlik, who must, I think, hev been born in an easy-going frame of mind, which seems to hev stuck to her ever since, and to hev gone on increasing with her years. Then, as we all know, our Indian Alizay has for long been efter the girl Idazoo. There’s no accountin’ for taste, Tonal’. I would sooner be married to a ship’s figure-head myself, but that’s his look-out, whatever. I hev also observed—’deed it would be difficult not to observe—that the man Oolalik iss castin’ sheep’s-eyes at that girl Nootka. All this hes impressed me so much that I hev set myself to observe more closely than I’m used to do in such matters, and I hev discovered two more cases—namely, that poor young Eskimo that was wounded in the last fecht, but seems to be slowly recovering. They call him Ondikik, and he would hev kicked altogether if it had not been for the nursin’—so they say—o’ that nice little craitur they call Rinka, or something like that. The other case is that lively stripling Anteek. He’s scarcely more than a boy yet, but young Uleeta, as they call the girl, seems to think that no great objection.

“Now, Tonal’, my plan iss to marry them all off-hand on the same day! You know that by virtue of my poseetion in the Service I am empowered to perform the marriage ceremony. Of course, as a Christian man, I would not fail to impress them with the fact that no real marriage can take place without the blessin’ o’ their Manitou, but I think that the readin’ o’ the marriage service over them may impress them favourably, an’ help in the caause of peace and goot-will. It shall be tried, whatever, so you had better go an’ get your fuddle in order, an’ send the cook to me.”

That night MacSweenie had the central hall of his fort lighted up, and called together a united council of the Indians and Eskimos.

“My friends,” he said, after passing the pipe of peace round among the former, and offering it to the latter, who each took a whiff out of courtesy, “this is a great night, for we hev met to join ourselves together in a bond of friendship which I trust will not soon be broken.—Tell them that, Tonal’.”

When the interpreter had done his duty, Cheenbuk was asked to translate it into the Eskimo tongue. The process was rather slow, but as natives and traders alike had plenty of time on their hands, and the proceedings were a great novelty, no one felt impatient.

Then MacSweenie continued:

“We pale-faces, as you call us, believe that our God, our Manitou, takes a great interest in all our affairs, from the least to the greatest, and in the book in which some of us hev written down our prayers, we ask, among many other things, that ‘there may be peace in our time.’ (For myself, I may give my opeenion that the prayer would hev seemed less selfish if it had run ‘peace in all time’—but that iss by the way, whatever).—Now, Tonal’, go ahead.”

Donald went ahead, but he took the liberty of omitting what he deemed the irrelevant commentary.

“Peace, then, iss the thing that I am drivin’ at,—peace and goot-will between the pale-faces and the men-o’-the-woods and the men-of-the-ice also. There are many things that make for peace. The first an’ most important thing iss goot feelin’. Another thing is trade—commerce, barter, or exchange. (I don’t see how the Eskimo will translate these words, Tonal’, but he will hev to do his best.) Then there iss common sense; and, lastly, there is marriage. Now, I hev said my say, for the time, whatever, and Nazinred will continoo the discourse.”

Thus directly appealed to, our Indian rose, and, looking calmly round on the assembly, said—

“Every word that our white father has said is true; and a great many more words that he has not said are also true.”

“Waugh!” from the Red men, who evidently regarded the last remark as a self-evident proposition.

Dispensing with the services of Mowat, Nazinred turned to the Eskimos and acted the part of his own interpreter. They received his words with an emphatic “Hoh!” as if they were equally clear on the subject of the last words being indisputable.

“Our white father has said,” continued the chief, “that the first and most important thing in producing peace is good-feeling. That is true. It was good-feeling in my child that led her to save the life of Cheenbuk. It was good-feeling in Cheenbuk that made him care for my child, and treat her well, and bring her back here to her mother and her tribe. It was good-feeling in the Eskimos that made them kind to the Indian chief, and receive him hospitably, when they might have taken his scalp and kept his daughter. It is good-feeling, very strong good-feeling, that makes the young Eskimo wish to make Adolay his squaw, and it is the same good-feeling that now makes Nazinred willing that he should have her.”

“Hoh!” exclaimed the Eskimos at this point, with evident satisfaction, and “Ho!” exclaimed the Indians, with equally evident surprise, for it was contrary to all their notions of propriety that an Indian chief’s daughter should wed an eater-of-raw-flesh! However, they said nothing more, and after gazing a few moments at each other in silent solemnity, they turned their eyes again on Nazinred.

Changing his tone somewhat, that wily Red man went on in a persuasive manner to expatiate on the advantages of peace in general, and of peace with the Eskimos in particular. He also enlarged on the great comforts to be derived from trade—which could be carried on with the white traders on the one hand and the Eskimos on the other, so that, between the two, the men-of-the-woods could not fail to obtain a double benefit. As to common sense being favourable to peace, he did not quite understand what his white father meant by that, for there was only one kind of sense among the Dogribs—though perhaps there might be two or three kinds where the traders came from! But in regard to marriage, there could be no doubt of his opinion on that point, seeing that he was going to give his daughter to Cheenbuk. Having finished what he had to say, Nazinred sat down, after expressing a desire to hear the opinions of his people on these matters.

For some time nothing was said, and it seemed as if the Indians were not quite sure of their own minds, when Magadar arose suddenly.

“Braves,” he began, in his brusque manner, “I like fair-play. If Cheenbuk is going to carry off one of our maidens, it seems to me reasonable that an Eskimo maid should be left in her place. There is one of their girls who is named Cowlik. I am willing to take Cowlik and make her my squaw. Waugh!”

Magadar sat down with the prompt air of a man who has conferred a favour at great personal sacrifice.

Then Mozwa rose and delivered himself of an oration full of wise remarks and poetical allusions, in which he backed his friend Nazinred. After him came Cheenbuk, who said that he was much gratified by the speeches of Mozwa and Nazinred; that from the latter he had learned his first lesson of good-feeling towards the men-of-the-woods, on the day when he strove with him on the banks of the Greygoose River; that his second lesson was taught him by Adolay—a lesson that he would never forget and could never repay, for she had not only saved his life but made him happy.

At this point MacSweenie broke in with, “Yes, my friends, an’ there iss a goot many more people here besides Cheenbuk that wants to be made happy. For instance, there’s the young brave Alizay an’ that pleasant craitur Idazoo that’s thinkin’ about marriage just now; an’ there’s Magadar and Cowlik, and Oolalik and Nootka, and Ondikik and Rinka, and Anteek and young Uleeta; an’ I’m not sure that there may not be some more of you in the same case. If so, all right; the more the merrier. Ay, ye may look surprised, my friends, but I’ve got a way o’ findin’ out these things that is not known to every wan.—Now, Tonal’, gif them that as best ye can, and look sherp, for there iss more to come.

“Now, my fruends, I want to explain to ye that when white people get married they go through a kind of ceremony, an’ put gold rings on the weemen’s fingers—by way o’ makin’ it all shipshape an’ secure, you know. Now, I understand how to go about this matter, an’ we hev plenty o’ brass curtain-rings in the store that’s as goot as gold any day—in this country, whatever. So if it iss agreeable to the chiefs and the braves around me, I’m quite willin’ to marry ye all off at the same time, and will gif ye as much baccy as ye can smoke in wan night; an’ we’ll hev a glorious feast on the back o’t, an’ a dance that’ll keep my fuddler’s fingers goin’ as long as they can wag.—Now, Tonal’, if ye tell them all that, ye’re a cliverer man than I take ye for.”

Whether Mowat told them all that as faithfully as might be desired we cannot tell, but he addressed himself to the task with a genial fluency that at all events had the desired effect, for after Nazinred had translated it to the Eskimos, it was found that they, as well as the Indians, were quite disposed to fall in with the eccentric trader’s views. Arrangements were accordingly made without delay for carrying them into execution.

Of course the ladies concerned had no objections to offer; and it is generally believed to this day, in those regions, that the interest aroused by the promised ceremonial, not to mention the brass curtain-rings, as well as the tobacco, and the feast and fiddle, had much to do with the ready assent of all parties to this somewhat violent innovation on ancient custom.

Be this as it may, the wholesale wedding eventually took place; the feast came off; Tonal’ Mowat charmed the souls of the Eskimos with his violin, even more powerfully than he had charmed those of the Indians; and Aglootook, almost carried out of himself with delight, volunteered an oration in which he reminded his hearers that he had told them that something would certainly happen.

They all heartily admitted the fact, and solemnly proclaimed him the most wonderful magician in the land.

From that day to this, as far as we know, nothing has occurred to interrupt the flow of kindly intercourse that was at this time established. The Eskimos returned to their icy fastnesses laden with some of the wealth of the white traders.

But every spring they came back to barter for more of it, as well as for the purpose of seeing the friends whom they had left behind them.

For Cheenbuk, being unable to tear himself away from Nazinred, took up his permanent abode at the fort as one of the hunters to the establishment. He did not however forsake his people, but frequently visited old Mangivik and his mother at Waruskeek, and the old folk sometimes returned the visit by spending a few months on the banks of the Ukon River. Anteek also elected to stay with the men-of-the-woods, being unable to forsake Cheenbuk, and of course young Uleeta remained with him. Every year Nootka found it quite impossible to exist without seeing her brother Cheenbuk in his own home, and having a satisfactory gossip with her dear friend Adolay. As Oolalik agreed with Nootka in all things, there was no difficulty in arranging the matter. In the course of time Cheenbuk’s youngsters and Nootka’s progeny insisted on keeping up the intercourse that had been so auspiciously begun, and even the easy-going Cowlik became uneasy unless the fire-eating Magadar went with her occasionally to Waruskeek.

As for the unselfish and tender-hearted Rinka, she of course returned with Ondikik to the realms of ice, and made that fortunate savage happy. Indeed, she made every one happy who came within her benign influence, and if the truth had been spoken out by every one, we suspect it would have been found that to her attractive powers was due much of the enthusiasm for intercommunication that existed between the Red men and the walrus-hunters, for the principle still holds good, in savage not less than in civilised lands, that “love is the fulfilling of the law.”

The End