The Giant of the North: Pokings Round the Pole

“You are right, Anders. If by fighting to the death I could save Oblooria, it would be my duty as well as my pleasure to fight; but I see that I haven’t the ghost of a chance against such a host as is approaching, and it would be simply revengeful to send as many as I can into the next world before going there myself. Besides, it would exasperate the savages, and make them harder on the poor girl.”

In saying this Leo was rather arguing out the point with himself than talking to the interpreter, who did not indeed understand much of what he said. Having made up his mind how to act, Leo stowed his precious rifle and ammunition in a small bag placed for that purpose under one of the thwarts, and, resuming the oars, prepared to meet his fate, whatever it should be, peacefully and unarmed.

While thus drifting in silence before the gale, the thought suddenly occurred to Leo, “How strange it is that I, who am a Christian—in name at least—should feel as if it were absurd to pray for God’s help at such a time as this! Surely He who made me and these Eskimos is capable of guarding us? The very least we can do is to ask Him to guide us!”

The youth was surprised at the thought. It had flashed upon him like a ray of light. It was not the first time that he had been in even more imminent danger than the present, yet he had never before thought of the necessity of asking help from God, as if He were really present and able as well as willing to succour. Before the thought had passed he acted on it. He had no time for formal prayer. He looked up! It was prayer without words. In a few minutes more the boat was surrounded by the fleet of kayaks. There were hundreds of these tiny vessels of the north, each with its solitary occupant, using his double-bladed paddle vigorously.

Need we say that the strangers were at first gazed on with speechless wonder? and that the Eskimos kept for some time hovering round them at a respectful distance, as if uncertain how to act, but with their war-spears ready? All the time the whole party drifted before the gale towards the island-rock.

“Anders,” said Leo, while the natives remained in this state of indecision, “my mind is made up as to our course of action. We will offer no resistance whatever to these fellows. We must be absolutely submissive, unless, indeed, they attempt to ill-treat Oblooria, in which case of course we will defend her. Do you hear?”

This was said with such quiet decision, and the concluding question was put in such a tone, that the interpreter replied, “Yis, sar,” promptly.

As Leo made no sign of any kind, but continued to guide the boat steadily with the oars, as if his sole anxiety was to round the western point of the island and get into a place of shelter, the natives turned their kayaks and advanced along with him. Naturally they fell into the position of an escort—a part of the fleet paddling on each side of the captives, (for such they now were), while the rest brought up the rear.

“What ails Oblooria, Anders?” asked Leo in a low tone.

“What is the matter?” asked the interpreter, turning to the girl, who, ever since the approach of the Eskimos, had crouched like a bundle in the bottom of the boat with her face buried in her hands. “There is no fear. Grabantak is a man, not a bear. He will not eat you.”

“Grabantak knows me,” answered the poor girl, without lifting her head; “he came to Poloe once, before the war, and wanted me to be the wife of his son. I want not his son. I want Oolichuk!”

The simplicity and candour of this confession caused Leo to laugh in spite of himself, while poor little Oblooria, who thought it no laughing matter, burst into tears.

Of course the men of Flatland kept their eyes fixed in wide amazement on Leo, as they paddled along, and this sudden laugh of his impressed them deeply, being apparently without a cause, coupled as it was with an air of absolute indifference to his probable fate, and to the presence of so many foes. Even the ruthless land-hungerer, Grabantak, was solemnised.

In a few minutes the whole party swept round the point of rocks, and proceeded towards the land over the comparatively quiet waters of a little bay which lay under the lee of the Sugar-loaf rock.

During the brief period that had been afforded for thought, Leo had been intently making his plans. He now proceeded to carry them out.

“Hand me the trinket-bundle,” he said to Anders.

The interpreter searched in a waterproof pouch in the stern of the boat, and produced a small bundle of such trinkets as are known to be valued by savages. It had been placed and was always kept there by Captain Vane, to be ready for emergencies.

“They will be sure to take everything from us at any rate,” remarked Leo, as he divided the trinkets into two separate bundles, “so I shall take the wind out of their sails by giving everything up at once with a good grace.”

The Grabantaks, if we may so style them, drew near, as the fleet approached the shore, with increasing curiosity. When land was reached they leaped out of their kayaks and crowded round the strangers. It is probable that they would have seized them and their possessions at this point, but the tall strapping figure of Leo, and his quiet manner, overawed them. They held back while the india-rubber boat was being carried by Leo and Anders to a position of safety.

Poor Oblooria walked beside them with her head bowed down, shrinking as much as possible out of sight. Everybody was so taken up with the strange white man that no one took any notice of her.

No sooner was the boat laid down than Leo taking one of the bundles of trinkets stepped up to Grabantak, whom he easily distinguished by his air of superiority and the deference paid him by his followers.

Pulling his own nose by way of a friendly token, Leo smiled benignantly in the chief’s face, and opened the bundle before him.

It is needless to say that delight mingled with the surprise that had hitherto blazed on the visage of Grabantak.

“Come here, Anders, and bring the other bundle with you. Tell this warrior that I am very glad to meet with him.”

“Great and unconquerable warrior,” began the interpreter, in the dialect which he had found was understood, by the men of Poloe, “we have come from far-off lands to bring you gifts—”

“Anders,” said Leo, whose knowledge of the Eskimo tongue was sufficient, by that time, to enable him in a measure to follow the drift of a speech, “Anders, if you don’t tell him exactly what I say I’ll kick you into the sea!”

As Anders stood on a rock close to the water’s edge, and Leo looked unusually stern, he thereafter rendered faithfully what the latter told him to say. The speech was something to the following effect:—

“I am one of a small band of white men who have come here to search out the land. We do not want the land. We only want to see it. We have plenty of land of our own in the far south. We have been staying with the great chief Amalatok in Poloeland.”

At the mention of his enemy’s name the countenance of Grabantak darkened. Without noticing this, Leo went on:—

“When I was out hunting with my man and a woman, the wind arose and blew us hither. We claim your hospitality, and hope you will help us to get back again to Poloeland. If you do so we will reward you well, for white men are powerful and rich. See, here are gifts for Grabantak, and for his wife.”

This latter remark was a sort of inspiration. Leo had observed, while Anders was speaking, that a stout cheerful-faced woman had been pushing aside the men and gradually edging her way toward the Eskimo chief with the air of a privileged person. That he had hit the mark was obvious, for Grabantak turned with a bland smile, and hit his wife a facetious and rather heavy slap on the shoulder. She was evidently accustomed to such treatment, and did not wince.

Taking from his bundle a gorgeous smoking-cap richly ornamented with brilliant beads, Leo coolly crowned the chief with it. Grabantak drew himself up and tried to look majestic, but a certain twitching of his face, and sparkle in his eyes, betrayed a tendency to laugh with delight. Fortunately, there was another cap of exactly the same pattern in the bundle, which Leo instantly placed on the head of the wife—whose name he afterwards learned was Merkut.

The chief’s assumed dignity vanished at this. With that childlike hilarity peculiar to the Eskimo race, he laughed outright, and then, seizing the cap from Merkut’s head, put it above his own to the amusement of his grinning followers.

Leo then selected a glittering clasp-knife with two blades, which the chief seized eagerly. It was evidently a great prize—too serious a gift to be lightly laughed at. Then a comb was presented to the wife, and a string of gay beads, and a pair of scissors. Of course the uses of combs and scissors had he explained, and deep was the interest manifested during the explanation, and utter the forgetfulness of the whole party for the time being in regard to everything else in the world—Oblooria included, who sat unnoticed on the rocks with her face still buried in her hands.

When Grabantak’s possessions were so numerous that the hood of his coat, and the tops of his wife’s boots were nearly filled with them, he became generous, and, prince-like, (having more than he knew what to do with), began to distribute things to his followers.

Among these followers was a tall and stalwart son of his own, to whom he was rather stern, and not very liberal. Perhaps the chief wished to train him with Spartan ideas of self-denial. Perhaps he wanted his followers to note his impartiality. Merkut did not, however, act on the same principles, for she quietly passed a number of valuable articles over to her dear son Koyatuk, unobserved by his stern father.

Things had gone on thus pleasantly for some time; the novelty of the gifts, and the interest in their explanation having apparently rendered these people forgetful of the fact that they might take them all at once; when a sudden change in the state of affairs was wrought by the utterance of one word.

“We must not,” said Leo to Anders, looking at his follower over the heads of the Eskimos, “forget poor little Oblooria.”

“Oblooria!” roared Grabantak with a start, as if he had been electrified.

“Oblooria!” echoed Koyatuk, glaring round.

“Oblooria!” gasped the entire band.

Another moment and Grabantak, bursting through the crowd, leaped towards the crouching girl and raised her face. Recognising her he uttered a yell which probably was meant for a cheer.

Hurrying the frightened girl into the circle through which he had broken, the chief presented her to his son, and, with an air worthy of a civilised courtier, said:—

“Your wife, Koyatuk—your Oblooria!—Looria!”

He went over the last syllables several times, as if he doubted his senses, and feared it was too good news to be true.

This formal introduction was greeted by the chief’s followers with a series of wild shouts and other demonstrations of extreme joy.

Chapter Twenty Two.

A Fight in Defence of Woman, And Rifle-Shooting Extraordinary

When the excitement had somewhat abated, Leo stepped to the side of Oblooria, and laying his hand on her shoulder said firmly, through Anders:—

“Pardon me, Grabantak, this girl is not the wife of Koyatuk; she is my sister!”

The chief frowned, clenched his teeth, and grasped a spear—

“When did Kablunet men begin to have Eskimo sisters?”

“When they took all distressed women under their protection,” returned Leo promptly. “Every woman who needs my help is my sister,” he added with a look of self-sufficiency which he was far from feeling.

This new doctrine obviously puzzled the chief, who frowned, smiled, and looked at the ground, as if in meditation. It seemed to afford great comfort to Oblooria, who nestled closer to her champion. As for Koyatuk, he treated the matter with an air of mingled surprise and scorn, but dutifully awaited his father’s pleasure.

Koyatuk was physically a fine specimen of a savage, but his spirit was not equal to his body. Like his father he was over six feet high, and firmly knit, being of both larger and stronger build than Leo, whom he now regarded, and of course hated, as his rival—a contemptible one, no doubt; still—a rival.

The warriors watched their chief in breathless suspense. To them it was a thoroughly new and interesting situation. That a white stranger, tall and active, but slender and very young, should dare single-handed to defy not only their chief, but, as it were, the entire tribe, including the royal family, was a state of things in regard to which their previous lives afforded no parallel. They could not understand it at all, and stood, as it were, in eager, open-mouthed, and one-legged expectation.

At last Grabantak looked up, as if smitten by a new idea, and spoke—

“Can Kablunet men fight?” he asked.

“They love peace better than war,” answered Leo, “but when they see cause to fight they can do so.”

Turning immediately to his son, Grabantak said with a grim smile—

“Behold your wife, take her!”

Koyatuk advanced. Leo placed Oblooria behind him, and, being unarmed, threw himself into a pugilistic posture of defence. The young Eskimo laid one of his strong hands on the Englishman’s shoulder, intending to thrust him aside violently. Leo was naturally of a tender disposition. He shrank from dealing a violent blow to one who had not the remotest idea of what was coming, or how to defend himself from the human fist when used as a battering-ram.

But Leo chanced to be, in a sense, doubly armed. During one of his holiday rambles in England he had visited Cornwall, and there had learned that celebrated “throw” which consists in making your haunch a fulcrum, your right arm a lever, and your adversary a shuttlecock. He suddenly grasped his foe round the waist with one arm. Next moment the Grabantaks saw what the most imaginative among them had never till then conceived of—Koyatuk’s soles turned to the sky, and his head pointing to the ground! The moment following, he lay flat on his back looking upwards blankly.

The huk! hi! ho! hooroos! that followed may be conceived, but cannot be described. Some of the men burst into laughter, for anything ludicrous is irresistible to an Eskimo of the very far north. A few were petrified. Others there were who resented this indignity to the heir-apparent, and flourished their spears in a threatening manner. These last Grabantak quieted with a look. The incident undoubtedly surprised that stern parent, but also afforded him some amusement. He said it was an insult that must be avenged. Oddly enough he made use of an expression which sounded curiously familiar to Leo’s ears, as translated by Anders. “The insult,” said Grabantak, “could only be washed out in blood!”

Strange, that simple savages of the far north should hold to that ridiculous doctrine. We had imagined that it was confined entirely to those further south, whose minds have been more or less warped by civilised usage.

A ring was immediately formed, and poor Leo now saw that the matter was becoming serious. He was on the eve of fighting an enforced duel in Oblooria’s service.

While the savages were preparing the lists, and Koyatuk, having recovered, was engaged in converse with his father, Leo whispered to Anders—

“Perhaps Oblooria has no objection to be the wife of this man?”

But the poor girl had very strong objections. She was, moreover, so emphatic in her expressions of horror, and cast on her champion such a look of entreaty, that he would have been more than mortal had he refused her. It was very perplexing. The idea of killing, or being killed, in such a cause was very repulsive. He tried to reason with Grabantak about the sin of injuring a defenceless woman, and the abstract right of females in general to have some say in the selection of their husbands, but Grabantak was inexorable.

“Is the Kablunet afraid?” he asked, with a glance of scornful surprise.

“Does he look afraid?” returned Leo, quietly.

Koyatuk now stepped into the middle of the ring of warriors, with a short spear in his right hand, and half-a-dozen spare ones in his left, whereby Leo perceived that the battle before him was not meant to be a mere “exchange of shots,” for the “satisfaction of honour.” There was evidently no humbug about these Eskimos.

Two men mounted guard over Anders and Oblooria, who, however, were allowed to remain inside the ring to witness the combat. A warrior now advanced to Leo and presented him with a small bundle of spears. He took them almost mechanically, thanked the giver, and laid them down at his feet without selecting one. Then he stood up, and, crossing his arms on his breast, gazed full at his opponent, who made a hideous face at him and flourished his spear.

It was quite evident that the Eskimos were perplexed by the white youth’s conduct, and knew not what to make of it. The truth is that poor Leo was almost beside himself with conflicting emotions and uncertainty as to what he ought to do. Despite all that had taken place, he found it almost impossible to persuade himself that he was actually about to engage in mortal combat. He had not a vestige of angry feeling in his heart against the man whom he was expected to fight with to the death, and the extraordinary nature of the complex faces that Koyatuk was making at him tended to foster the delusion that the whole thing was a farce—or a dream.

Then the knowledge that he could burst through the ring, get hold of his rifle, and sell his life dearly, or, perhaps, cause the whole savage tribe to fly in terror, was a sore temptation to him. All this, coupled with the necessity for taking instant and vigorous action of some sort, was enough to drive an older head distracted. It did drive the blood violently to the youth’s face, but, by a powerful effort of self-restraint, he continued to stand perfectly still, like a living statue, facing the Eskimo.

At last Koyatuk became tired of making useless faces at his rival. Suddenly poising his spear, he launched it.

Had Leo’s eye been less quick, or his limbs less active, that spear had laid him low for ever. He had barely time to spring aside, when the weapon passed between his side and his left arm, grazing the latter slightly, and drawing blood which trickled to the ends of his fingers.

There could be no further doubt now about the nature of the fight. Catching up a spear from the bundle at his feet he was just in time to receive the Eskimo, who sprang in on him with the intention of coming at once to close quarters. His rush was very furious; probably with a view to make it decisive. But the agile Leo was equal to the occasion. Bending suddenly so low as to be quite under his opponent’s desperate thrust, he struck out his right leg firmly. Koyatuk tripped over it, and ploughed the land for some yards with his hands, head, and knees.

Considerably staggered in mind and body by the fall, he sprang up with a roar, and turned to renew the attack. Leo was ready. The Eskimo, by that time mad with pain, humiliation, and rage, exercised no caution in his assault. He rushed at his rival like a mad bull. Our Englishman saw his opportunity. Dropping his own spear he guarded the thrust of his adversary’s with his right arm, while, with his left fist, he planted a solid blow on Koyatuk’s forehead. The right fist followed the left like the lightning flash, and alighted on Koyatuk’s nose, which, flat by nature, was rendered flatter still by art. Indeed it would be the weakest flattery to assert that he had any nose at all after receiving that blow. It was reduced to the shape of a small pancake, from the two holes in which there instantly spouted a stream of blood so copious that it drenched alike its owner and his rival.

After giving him this double salute, Leo stepped quickly aside to let him tumble forward, heels over head, which he did with the only half-checked impetuosity of his onset, and lay prone upon the ground.

“There, Anders,” said the victor, turning round as he pointed to his prostrate foe, “surely Grabantak’s son has got enough of blood now to wipe out all the insults he ever received, or is likely to receive, from me.”

Grabantak appeared to agree to this view of the case. That he saw and relished the jest was obvious, for he burst into an uproarious fit of laughter, in which his amiable warriors joined him, and, advancing to Leo, gave him a hearty slap of approval on the shoulder. At the same time he cast a look of amused scorn on his fallen son, who was being attended to by Merkut.

It may be observed here that Merkut was the only woman of the tribe allowed to go on this war-expedition. Being the chief’s wife, she had been allowed to do as she pleased, and it was her pleasure to accompany the party and to travel like the warriors in a kayak, which she managed as well as the best of them.

Grabantak now ordered his men to encamp, and feed till the gale should abate. Then, calling Leo and the interpreter aside, he questioned them closely as to the condition of the Poloese and the numbers of the white men who had recently joined them.

Of course Leo made Anders give him a graphic account of the preparations made by his enemies to receive him, in the hope that he might be induced to give up his intentions, but he had mistaken the spirit of the Eskimo, who merely showed his teeth, frowned, laughed in a diabolic manner, and flourished his spear during the recital of Amalatok’s warlike arrangements. He wound up by saying that he was rejoiced to learn all that, because it would be all the more to his credit to make his enemy go down on his knees, lick the dust, crawl in his presence, and otherwise humble himself.

“But tell him, Anders,” said Leo, earnestly, “that my white brothers, though few in number, are very strong and brave. They have weapons too which kill far off and make a dreadful noise.”

Grabantak laughed contemptuously at this.

“Does the Kablunet,” he asked, “think I am afraid to die—afraid of a noise? does he think that none but white men can kill far off?”

As he spoke he suddenly hurled his spear at a gull, which, with many others, was perched on a cliff about thirty yards off, and transfixed it.

“Go to the boat, Anders, and fetch my rifle,” said Leo in a low tone.

When the rifle was brought a crowd of Eskimos came with it. They had been closely observing their chief and the stranger during the conference, but remained at a respectful distance until they saw something unusual going on.

“Tell the chief,” said Leo, “to look at that peak with the solitary gull standing on it.”

He pointed to a detached cone of rock upwards of two hundred yards distant.

When the attention of the whole party was concentrated on the bird in question, Leo took a steady aim and fired.

Need we say that the effect of the shot was wonderful? not only did the braves utter a united yell and give a simultaneous jump, but several of the less brave among them bolted behind rocks, or tumbled in attempting to do so, while myriads of sea-fowl, which clustered among the cliffs, sprang from their perches and went screaming into the air. At the same time echoes innumerable, which had lain dormant since creation, or at best had given but sleepy response to the bark of walruses and the cry of gulls, took up the shot in lively haste and sent it to and fro from cliff to crag in bewildering continuation.

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Grabantak in open-mouthed amazement, when he beheld the shot gull tumbling from its lofty perch, “Do it again.”

Leo did it again—all the more readily that another gull, unwarned by its predecessor’s fate, flew to the conical rock at the moment, and perched itself on the same peak. It fell, as before, and the echoes were again awakened, while the sea-birds cawed and screamed more violently than ever.

The timid ones among the braves, having recovered from their first shock, stood fast this time, but trembled much and glared horribly. The chief, who was made of sterner stuff than many of his followers; did not move, though his face flushed crimson with suppressed emotion. As to the sea-birds, curiosity seemed to have overcome fear, for they came circling and wheeling overhead in clouds so dense that they almost darkened the sky—many of them swooping close past the Eskimos and then shearing off and up with wild cries.