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Ballou's Monthly Magazine.
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THE WESTERN ESQUIMAUX AT HOME.
BY CAPT. W. H. MACY, OF NANTUCKET.
We had dropped our anchor within a few miles of the land on the American side, after having passed through Behring’s Straits. A boat expedition was sent to explore along the coast, with the hope of falling in with a polar whale.
But the cetaceous giants seemed to have fled the vicinity for the time being. None were to be seen in a cruise of several miles along shore, though the water was smooth as glass, and the sky unusually clear for that part of the world. Both continents were in plain view from the ship when we left, but few vessels; most of the fleet having stood over for the bluff of Cape East on the Asiatic side of the basin.
We extended our reconnoissance in the boats farther than we had at first intended; but, seeing nothing to reward our search, were about giving it up to return, when, on rounding a bend, we were saluted with loud cries in a barbarous jargon.
A settlement, or village, if it deserves the name, opened suddenly to our view, and the shouts of the Indians were evidently those of welcome and invitation. Impelled by curiosity, we laid our boats’ heads on shore, and were soon quite at home, mingling freely among the strange-looking inhabitants.
The huts forming the settlement were only four in number, and were planted near the mouth of a small creek. on perhaps the most eligible side that could be chosen where the whole face of the earth was little better than a quagmire. Anything more cheerless and desolate for the abode of human beings can hardly be imagined.
The population of this migratory establishment amounted to about forty souls; which might be considered a large one. These people seldom form more numerous communities; and probably the whole census of the shores and islands of Behring‘s Sea, above the parallel of sixty, would foot up but a few thousands.
Their wigwams, like their boats, were built of the skins of beasts, stretched over a framework, either of driftwood, or of the ribs of whales, planted in a circle and converging upward to form a rude kind of dome. They were, of course. only intended for summer lodgings, to be struck and removed at short notice, at the call of necessity or whim.
Large quantities of birds, roughly plucked and apparently smoke-dried, the flesh black and tough, looking like the jerked beef of South America, were strung up, in and about their habitations, probably to form part of their winter stock. But the chief magazine of provisions we found to consist of a pit or excavation dug in the earth, and rudely housed over to keep out the rain and snow. leaving an aperture and covered way to creep in at.
"Here’s the grub-locker!" exclaimed Joe West, our boatsteerer, who had stumbled upon the place in his wanderings and thrust his head in at the hole. "Come here, boys, and take a snuff at it! These fellows are going to fatten next winter."
We all hastened at his call, to take a "snuff," and a peep into the subterranean storehouse. It was half filled with blubber, both of whale and walrus, which had been thrown in loosely, but was gradually settling and packing itself down into a mass; while the little pools of oil could be seen shining at all the lowest places.
"Now, don’t that look tempting to you, Spunyarn?" said West to the other boatsteerer, a stalwart Kanaka from the Marquesaw group.
But Spunyarn snapped his nostrils as only a South-Sea Islander can, and evinced the strongest symptoms of disgust. Yet, in proof that these things are mere matters of taste, growing out of acquired habits, the Marquesaw would, doubtless, have devoured at sight a whole package of his native mahee, or sour, fermented paste, known to seamen as "hurrah!" the odor of which is even more offensive to civilized man than that from the ancient fat in the Esquimaux pit.
The women whom we met with here were, if possible, inferior in personal beauty to their lords. For, in the softening down of features, the nose became, as it were, a mere pimple, deep down in a valley between the mountainous cheeks. It was not easy to distinguish the sexes at a single glance. unless the hair could be seen, as the men had little or no beard; while, so far as costume was concerned, one fashion-plate would have served for both ladies and gentlemen. The little ones, unctuous and rosy, capered about in their clumsy bundles of skins. not unlike young bears or dancing dogs.
Their oomiaks, or skin boats, of which there were four, corresponding in number to the huts, were placed upon raised platforms of driftwood, convenient to the waterside, with their "craft" in readiness for ac-
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