Chapter VIII

JOURNEY ALONG THE COAST OF GREENLAND FROM ILLUIDLEK
TO FRIEDRICHSTHAL. JUNE, 1870.[19]

Description of the Island.--Arrival in the Bay of “Hansa
Haven.”--Departure for Friedrichsthal.--Desert appearance of
the coast.--The cliffs near Cape Hvidtfeldt.--Vegetation and
landscape scenery.--Excursion to the Island of Sedlevik.--A
Swiss landscape in Greenland.--The Bay of Friedrichsthal.--Men
upon the shore.--The Moravian Mission-colony of
Friedrichsthal.--Dwelling-houses in Friedrichsthal.--Hospitable
reception.--The natives.--Preparations for returning
home.--Commercial dealings with Denmark.--Travelling in
Greenland.--The Esquimaux village.--East-Greenlander
frightened.--West-Greenlander.--Beer in Greenland.

The small Island of Illuidlek extends in its longer axis from south-east to north-west. A dome-shaped, steep declivity to the north-west, to the south-east a sloping mountain, form centres round which cluster a crowd of wild rugged cliffs. A small strait separates the island from the smaller Ivimiut lying before it, and Cape Discord.[20] Inland extends a long chain of rocks, a very quickset hedge, the innermost end of which forms a small low island, which we took for that called Omenarsuk on Graah’s map. Naked and bare of all vegetation, these grotesque rocks rise into the air. The inhabitants of the island, a pair of lonely gulls, watched with evident curiosity from a rift in the rocks the arrival of the strange visitors, and some guillemots fluttered piping around the open water of the strait. It was between the south-east point of the island, Cape Discord, and the small Island of Ivimiut. About ten o’clock we lay in a bay protected from the north wind, and surrounded by high rocks, which we called “Hansa Haven.” Here we wished to pass the night, and had already brought our things to shore with that intention, when the tide fell and our boat grounded; we therefore left the bay at about twelve at night, pulling up at a piece of ice lying not far from the land. It was now exactly four weeks since our departure from the floe, which we had left with such confident hope of reaching the neighbouring shore in a few days.

Whitsunday, glorious weather! Messrs. Hildebrandt and Bade went hunting in the boat Bismarck. They brought home a small bag of twenty-two divers, the flesh of which, prepared as a stew, provided us with two excellent mid-day meals. This, however, only helped for the moment; and we had, at the utmost, only provisions for fourteen days! The hunters had been in the upper part of the island. They saw along the southern coast a small strip of water. “Everywhere we find nothing but bare barren cliffs, the higher the wilder, sparingly clothed with moss and stunted willows. But no trace of human inhabitants!” Illuidlek, where Graah fell in with some natives,[21] seems to have been long uninhabited.

_Page 164._

THE BOATS UNDER SAIL.]

On the second day, the 6th of June, we started again. Our aim was Friedrichsthal, the nearest colony on the south-west coast of Greenland. But we reckoned upon soon meeting one or the other of the Esquimaux seal-boats searching the Fjord. We worked, pushing and rowing laboriously, up the Kangerdleck Fjord, then struck straight across, and rowed and cruised about from six o’clock, at which time the ice loosened a little, until eleven in the evening, against a hard, south-west wind. The Island of Omenarsuk scarcely rises 125 feet above the sea, and yet on its north side shows a spot only a few square feet in size, which is covered with fresh-water ice, and looks exactly like a diminutive glacier. From its position it could not possibly be an ice-block hurled there; besides, it was fresh water, ice from the snow which had been frozen in the ravines of the island. This inland ice-formation in such small masses against the neighbouring powerful ice-current, is an interesting phenomenon. Some nautical miles from the south point of the above-mentioned Fjord, which we christened “Pfingstkap,” we hauled up the boats on to the firm, even coast ice. The following sketch will explain the situation:--

The next day, 7th June, was delightful weather. We sailed pleasantly past “Pfingstkap,” the highest rocky point of which rises boldly in the air, stretching along the steep coast southwards. Its aspect was barren and dreary. The darkness of the rocks was broken here and there by small strips of snow, reaching about half way up; some of which looked grass-green from the scanty moss growing on the stones. On a low island, which on Graah’s map bears the name of Kutek Island, we took our mid-day meal. In the depths of the rocks we found some beautifully-tasting water, and for once we drank as much as we wanted. The rocks of Kutek Island must often have come in hard contact with the ice drifting from the north; many places distinctly showed that they had been polished by the ice and worn quite flat. On many rocks, which were partly covered by the tide, lay the glistening blue fragments of pieces washed up, and of crushed ice-floes. In the evening we hauled up our boats five miles north of Cape Vallöe, for the first time on the rocks of the continent of Greenland. For the first time, now that we had no longer the crowding ice to fear, did we give ourselves completely and quietly up to rest. The light of another bright sunshiny dawn showed us some signs of vegetation inland. There were sorrel, dandelion, and cinquefoil, which we sought for eagerly in the fissures and rents of the rocky ground, and with which, with the help of some pickle, we improvised a salad with the remainder of the divers; got once more under sail, and in the evening had left twenty miles behind us. Our quarters this night were close to the south end of Greenland (60° 34′ N.L.), in front of the Fjord of Lindenow (marked by Graah under the unpronounceable name of Kangerdlurksoeitsiak).

On the following day we passed the grandly-formed pyramidical Cape of Hvidtfeldt (Kaningesekasik), more than a thousand feet high. Before it lay a group of cliffs, at one of which we pulled up, in order to find the best channel. On this occasion granite was found amongst the rocks. Dr Laube reports:--“We pulled up to one of the rocks for a short rest, and for our meal. It was a huge block of granite, and that of the beautiful large grained kind, the pegmatite, which is known to come from Siberia and other northern lands. Besides this, it contained a great number of garnets and carnelians mixed up together; and from its bosom the waves had washed a lovely block of rose quartz. I had made no secret of the presence of sapphires and garnets, and so came to grief through it, as we all wanted to capture a large sapphire. Hammer and chisel, which I had always to borrow, as my case went down with the Hansa, were scarcely to be obtained, and only with the sacrifice of my daily meal did I at length succeed in quieting my geologico-mineralogical mind by the acquisition of some fragments, when we at once said good-bye to the rock and its treasures, and went on our way. My mineralogico-geological mind! How often on the way did it rise in an excitement of longing to get hold of this or that spot, to climb up, and laden with stones return to the boat! but I must suppress such longings. If, as is well known, one cannot study well upon a full stomach, I can certify that a craving, gnawing stomach, does not incline one to work. But, even had I overcome this, a half-hour spent on such an excursion might have brought the lives of my waiting companions into danger. For this I would not be responsible. So that I only allowed my wishes to prevail when the occasion was warranted by circumstances.”

The colour of the mountains, beginning from Cape Hvidtfeldt, was quite different from those seen hitherto; they looked like melted copper. That explains at once the brown colour so often borne by naked rocks; it may also arise from the weather-beaten stratum of the peculiar granite of which they are built.[22] The blue atmosphere, in which the rocks rise, enhances the picturesque appearance of this richly-coloured coast scenery.

The rocks lying almost under Kaningesekasik, are washed perfectly round; they lie like giant ice-breakers, smooth and polished on all sides. Waves and ice have done their work. These cupola and dome-shaped rocks we now met constantly on our coasting journey; thousands of them lay scattered along the mainland, a stony outwork against the onward-pressing ice.

Our further voyage showed us a more pleasant landscape. To the north of the promontory of Igalalik appeared, extending for some distance, green tracts clothed with short grass. Unfortunately it was very foggy weather, and the clusters of islands, amid which we were now steering to find the entrance to Prince Christian Sound, caused us to miss this mark. The weather had become bad, and the south-east wind setting straight in on to shore drove us to seek protection in the first suitable of the many opening bights. After sailing in it for some time, the water became smoother; we were evidently in a strait, and that the one we wanted, viz. Prince Christian Sound. Lazily we rowed until two a.m. A flat piece of granite, sloping gently down to the water, afforded us a capital resting-place. Soon the boats were placed in the usual way, prepared as a tent couch.

More quietly than usual could we give ourselves up to sleep. The southern point of Greenland was, we thought, happily reached; in a few days we must be in Friedrichsthal. That horrible spectre which had martyred us for a long four weeks, the prospect of starvation, vanished; and we set valiantly to work upon the side of bacon and the ham. One must not, however, think, says Dr. Laube, that, on that account, we were careless of our provisions. Captain Hegemann providently kept the bread basket somewhat high. It might still happen that by the ice or some other hindrance we might be delayed, and with our store of provisions have to prolong our lives for a longer time. The long-missing feeling of satiety, and the joyful knowledge that soon this lingering, troublesome work of deliverance would be successful, helped to put us in the happiest frame of mind. It was already late in the morning, when the voice of the careful cook awoke us out of a refreshing sleep with the cry of ‘Schaffen! schaffen!’[23]

“The next thing was to try, if possible, to ascertain our exact position; the further journey was, therefore, put off until after the mid-day rest. When the accustomed morning toilette had been gone through (a brook leaping from the mountains gave an opportunity for a thorough cleansing), I employed the time in climbing the overhanging rocks to look about a little and see what was here offered to the eye. How different the ground already looked here! No longer those bare masses of rock alternating with everlasting ice! green moss spread itself around; dwarf birches, creeping willows showed young shoots, though even here the snow seemed not long to have disappeared. Indeed, we had no need to climb very high above the valley to find the winter carpet still spread. The straits here had more the character of a lake. From our resting-place straight to the south opened another in the distance, bordered by an island. In the east, from whence we had come, rose long-backed ridges; whilst westward, where the straits disappeared behind a rocky promontory, rose high mountains. Still and deserted it was on all sides; scarcely a white gull fluttered over the water, or a snow-bunting piped its simple song. About mid-day I returned to the camp. On the broad granite flat the captain and the pilot had erected a temporary observatory. Observations gave us 60° 4′ N.L., according to which we were not in Prince Christian Sound, but some nautical miles more to the south. Graah’s chart, which had generally given the run of the coast pretty exactly, had disappointed us more than once with regard to our geographical position. With a fresh breeze we sailed about twelve miles over the supposed Sound, then found it surrounded by rocks, and after climbing some heights were convinced that we were in a Fjord and not in a sea-strait, so we were obliged to row back again. The scenery on both sides was wildly picturesque, and grand dark rocky walls, covered on the top with snow, rose more than a thousand feet high; torrents of the melted snow rushed from the clefts and fell foaming in the Fjord. In some places, a sickly mossy covering was perceptible. Birds were often visible. At six in the evening, we were once more at the entrance; allowed ourselves no rest, however, but sailed until midnight in a south-westerly direction, four miles further, where in a small safe harbour we landed. On the shore were many signs that here had passed or lived some human beings, and (to judge from the bones of the seals) not very long ago some Esquimaux. Small stones were laid on the top of each other in the shape of a quadrangle: fragments of earthenware and seals’ bones lay strewn around. In this bight, too, the scenery was indescribably grand. To the left it was bounded by a hilly chain clothed in green moss. To the right rose a mighty wall 1200 feet high. A rocky pyramid towered in the air, and broad cataracts shot over the slopes, the waters collecting at the bottom, and the overflow being borne to the sea. The background was picturesquely surrounded by mountains, the waters of whose glaciers fell over a mountain terrace in a mighty torrent thundering to the sea. I thought of the ‘Traunfall’ in Upper Austria. No words are equal to the description of this majestic scenery; it wants a vivid water-colour drawing to convey that impression to the reader which this picture landscape made upon me. Pity that the journey to this region is so uninviting! If such were not the case, an artist might not be indisposed to undertake it, in order to bring home to the world full and glorious sketches and views of an unknown land abounding in nature’s beauty.

At eleven in the morning, with a fresh north wind, we sailed on. At noon we passed the point of Christian IV. Island, and from thence rowed between the high island lying north of Cape Farewell, to the important Island of Sedlevik with its many far-stretching arms, where we passed the night and the following day. Now, indeed, we had the certainty of knowing that we were near Friedrichsthal, and might give ourselves up to the joyful hope of soon being once more among men. Strangely enough, up to this time, we had not had a glimpse of an Esquimaux, though we might reasonably conclude that they were now busy in these waters catching the seals. Later we learnt that this (which is for the Greenlander a weighty business) was carried on to the south of Cape Farewell. The bank rises from the spot where we were, in an oblique direction, about 320 feet, forming a wide hilly plateau inland, on the soft, elastic, mossy carpet of which we stretched ourselves in the noonday sun and enjoyed some hours of long-wanted rest. Here and there, half hidden in the moss, were small blue flowers. Some of our party went hunting, but shot nothing but a few birds.

In the afternoon came the tide, which rose eight feet, and with a pretty strong north-east wind made such breakers that would have been dangerous to us, if some of the men had not been on the spot at the time, and held the boat, which was driving on to the shore, with the oars. Towards evening, the water retreated, the boats lay still, and we laid ourselves down with the conviction that the next night we should pass under a roof in Friedrichsthal. The glaciers which hung every where on the rocks of the island, now like birds’-nests between the needles and the rocky pinnacles, now of considerable strength, stretching down the declivities, no longer reached (so Dr. Laube affirmed) down to the sea, though in some places they protruded their moraines low down, and some of the broken ice getting loose fell over this dam into the sea. The temperature of the air seemed considerably warmer, and the land bore a far fresher green; whilst the islands around Cape Farewell formed a connected, high towering, tattered rocky block. The northerly Island of Sedlevik, which we had now reached, showed a level shore; only in the middle did a high, steep massive mountain rise. Everywhere the bank rose so high above the sea, that we had to search for some time before we could find a place suitable for pulling up the boats; and this on account of the steepness of the rough rocks was hard work, though it at last succeeded.

One week had passed since we reached Illuidlek; more happily than we had ventured to hope had our journey sped since then; and now we might once more allow ourselves a day of rest. Sunday, the 12th of June, we passed on Sedlevik. Although it blew hard from the north-west, the day was beautifully clear, and we could scan the land around us at our leisure. A party went hunting. “Less bloodhirsty” (writes Dr. Laube) “was my excursion; armed with the carpenter’s hammer, and accompanied by Philipp and Konrad, I undertook an excursion through the island. How different it was over the soft, swelling, mossy carpet, in which the feet often sank up to the ankles, to the hard stony rocks which we had trodden up to this time! Under the high mountains of the island, Spring’s first children had been born to her; amongst blooming willows and birch bushes, which rose in their succulent green sprays from the mossy ground like embroidery, the kidney-leaved sorrel and sweet-smelling angelica, finely indented fan-like ferns, waved in the air, and on the hanging rocks the low-lying _Sibbaldia_ spread its violet flower-bed. Below, at our feet, lay the light blue straits; branching off here and there, and forming deep Fjords stretching into the mountains, which with the glittering glaciers and bluish ravines bounded the distant view. I thought of the glorious Lake of the four Cantons! The small icebergs drifting on the water, gave life to the picture, looking like a fleet of blinding white sails; but instead of the smiling banks which delight the eye on that Swiss lake, it fell upon a desert shore. And yet what a different impression the landscape made upon me now to what it did a short time ago, when we were so uncertain as to our fate, and scarcely ventured to look up, much less give our souls to the great beauty of a northern landscape!”

June 13, started at four in the morning. We crossed between floes, until we had gone round the north point of the island, ran before the wind through the Straits of Torsukatek, and then took our course as a calm fell, rowing westward, remaining as near as possible to the coast, looking sharply in the direction of Friedrichsthal. There suddenly, after rounding a low promontory, the longed-for bay lay before us! It was a never-to-be-forgotten moment. The wind was now favourable, so we at once set sail, and hoisted our flag. A few hundred steps from the shore, on the green ground, stood a rather spacious red house, topped by a small tower. It was the mission-house. More to the side, and somewhat nearer to the bank, stood a similar smaller building, near which lay a dark mass of stony heaps; these we conjectured were the Esquimaux houses. Further on to the left opened a broad Fjord running from the north. High mountains framed this pleasant landscape picture, which was closed in the background by dim bluish mountain chains.

Friedrichsthal (so says Dr. Laube) is one of the younger mission stations of the Moravian confraternity. It was established in the year 1827, and lies in 60° N.L., and is, excepting Pamiädluk (which lies some miles to the south of Cape Farewell, and is the residence of a Danish petty trader) the most southerly place in Greenland inhabited by Europeans. The community of Friedrichsthal, which also includes some of the scattered squatters of Esquimaux in the neighbourhood, contains 437 inhabitants. The natives call the mission “Narsak,” that is, _level land_; definite enough for the conditions of land in Greenland. Plains are so rare there, that they answer well for defining places. But one’s expectations with regard to this European colony must not be too high. On a green meadow-land, which rises gently from the sea, stands the mission-house. On either side high mountains stretch inland to the north; the chain to the left is separated from Friedrichsthal by a parallel-running Fjord, the Narksamiut. From the high ridge to the right springs a merry brook, called by the Missionaries “Königsbach.” The generally flat shores of the bay juts out on the left into a natural mole, a prominent granite rock, the “Look-out” hill. To the left again of this rock is the entrance to the Narksamiut, a Fjord running deep into the land, from the waters of which Cape Igikait rises proud and steep. For some distance, about an English mile, one may follow the flat land lying along Narksamiut; then the cliffs and rocks crowd closer together; and only to those who are practised in climbing is it possible to penetrate a step further, when they may reach a rock which suggests nothing but a retreat or a giddy fall.

This green flat spot of land the Moravian Brotherhood have chosen for their most southerly mission station. The Northmen had already lived here. As the brothers’ house was being built, traces were found of their old settlement in the ground. Friedrichsthal is, indeed, one of the most lovely spots in Greenland. Open and pleasantly situated on the grassy sward, and enclosed in a wide semicircle of high mountains, it makes a good impression on all comers; how much more so on us, comparatively raised from the dead!

“Hurrah! hurrah! European houses, Friedrichsthal!” Indeed, there lay before us two low, red-painted houses. At this moment sprang up a most welcome breeze, and from our flagstaff the German flag fluttered lustily. I sat behind, with the glass to my eye, viewing the land. At the door of the mission-house a blue dress was visible for a moment, and then disappeared; now came a whole company from the house down to the strand; they had seen us. The rocks of the look-out hill, too, were alive. A European strode up and down, like an official guardian of order. Was it possible that in Greenland were already to be found harbour-masters and other government officers? What I had at first conjectured to be a heap of stones now stood upright. It was a group of oddly dressed human beings, natives, who crouching close together, with their skin clothes and fawn-coloured faces, could not be distinguished from the cliffs. Now the boats neared the shore. Even the water was alive. A man approached us in a canoe, but when he saw us would have turned quickly back again. The call of the Europeans to him from the cliff made him bolder; he came towards us, greeted us, and nodding pleasantly accompanied us into the harbour.

Still it was uncertain whether the missionaries were Danish, but we heard,--“That is the German flag! They are our people! Welcome, welcome to Greenland!” Germans, Germans in Greenland! The first word after so long a time heard from strange lips was German; the first sound, our dear German mother-tongue; and their people the first to offer us help and refreshment--who can describe our wonder and delight?

The land reached, each wanted to be first on the bank. I sprang into shallow water. We almost forgot the boats; the men could not finish the work quickly enough. What hand-shaking and grasping on all sides. Words died away in the throat, and the voice trembled. The man from the cliffs, too, and the natives had come up to greet us. The supposed guardian of public security was Mr. Starick, the missionary, who with Mr. Gericke superintended the Mission. The good people opened their eyes when they heard some short details of our voyage! But this was Germany. As a token, we have Mr. Gericke’s command:--“Wives, go and get ready at once some good coffee; in the meantime, we men will drink a bottle of wine as a welcome.” No sooner said than done. Whilst the men on the strand were busy making fast and unloading the boats, we followed the missionaries to the house, relating and listening alternately.

The mission-house is a small one-storied building. Like most of the European houses in Greenland, it was made in Denmark, brought piecemeal from the ship to this place, and at last set up there. It is not larger than the houses in the Erzgebirge, or the Harz; and from the red paint resembles the Swedish peasant-houses. The foundation is a rocky site covered with moss. The building of that, as well as of the unadorned wooden church, cost more trouble than the building of many a palace in Germany. Tediously must every piece have been brought from Julianeshaab, nearly eighty miles distant, in the small _umiaks_ or women’s boats.

The dwelling-houses are small, and not adapted for a numerous family. Some rooms, such as the dining-room and the kitchen, are used jointly by the missionaries. The room in which we first were, was the sitting-room of Mr. Gericke, the superintendent of the community. It was plainly furnished; a sofa with cushions, a table, and some stuffed chairs, formed the whole of the furniture. The walls were decorated with photographs of missionaries. Homely and comfortable the room looked to us, however! It was painted with oil paint, and all looked clean and orderly. The long dispensed-with European cleanliness, and the feeling that we were once more in a circle where a German matron could exercise her beneficient activity, acted like a charm upon us. Even in Greenland, amongst everlasting ice, the German wife, we now found, had managed to provide a souvenir of her own country. Some flowers in the windows supplied a necessity which the coldness of the climate refused outside; for the garden before the house, the surface of which, as well as that before the Esquimaux dwellings and other favourable spots, had been ploughed, looked sad and dreary enough. Turnips, which alone thrive here, scarcely showed their first green. Entering the house, after crossing a stone hall, we reached the sitting-room of Mr. Gericke, which lay to the left. To the right lay Mr. Starick’s room. Another door led to the kitchen.

Soon we sat in Mr. Gericke’s room at table, giving an account of our experiences, to the great astonishment of our hearers. Mr. Starick is a big, thin man, in his thirtieth year, a Lusatian, dressed partly in Greenland fashion (seal stockings and shoes). He is very talkative, though throughout the friendly conversation, his long pipe seldom went out. His young wife came from one of the West Indian islands; she was sent to him by the mission. Mr. Gericke, a man of about fifty, had a European wife who was born in Greenland, and had been brought up at Gnadau, near Magdeburg. Their marriage is blessed with three children, from two to six years old. Not long did we have to wait for the women of the house. A white cloth flew over the table; a heaped-up dish of rusks had the place of honour, and near it appeared some beautiful shining butter. Then the amiable housewives brought in a mighty can of coffee. And for us--we set to work upon the good things of this life with an appetite which defies all description. We sat, talked, drank and eat. To our no little dismay, the contents of the dish of rusks had disappeared in an indecorously short space of time. We looked at one another with signs of astonishment, when lo! another stood before us. Captain Hegemann could not help saying something regarding modesty, and so on. But our hosts would not hear of it; on the contrary, begged us to set to work again, which friendly invitation a still unfortunate grumbling in the stomach made us willingly follow. With some apology, the contents of the second dish disappeared. How the good people rejoiced over our blessed appetites! I thought it would frighten them to think how much fourteen famished stomachs could contain! But not we alone, the men, too, sat in the church-room at a cheerful meal, and the _Schonroggen_ (ship’s biscuits made of sifted rye-flour) disappeared there no less quickly. The good, good missionaries! What they possessed they brought out to help us. They offered us linen and clothes, but we had enough of them; what we greatly needed was a washing-day. As regards covering for the feet, we were badly off. But that want was speedily remedied. The store of shoes was brought out, and soon our pairs of feet were decked with rough Kamiken (Esquimaux boots made of seal leather).

In a small room, near the church, in the school, we made our resting-place on the school forms, all packed close together. The church is really nothing but a bedroom; a black covered table marks the spot from whence the preacher speaks. Near the table is an harmonium. The men remained in the boats under the sail-roofing.

In the Greenland village of Friedrichsthal no one was at home; men, women, and children were out on the island on the seal-hunt, or at the Fjord for the herring-fishing; only the female portion of the missionaries’ household was there. They had received us on the cliff with the others. The first impression made upon us by the natives was not unfavourable. Certainly these expressionless and plain physiognomies, with their broad flat faces, small, black, and somewhat crooked eyes, little stunted noses, and great swelling mouths, all set in black strips of hair, were not inviting; but the striking harmlessness and good nature of these half-wild people soon earned our fullest favour. As soon as they saw that we were friendly people, indeed the countrymen of their beloved missionaries, they were confiding towards us. The man who met us had brought the post; he was the overseer of a Greenland village, Igalorsoeitsiak, near Cape Farewell, and was named Jonathan. The missionaries praised him as a capital seal-hunter and an excellent man; he was very open-hearted and a great drinker. What was meant by _open-heartedness_, which, oddly enough, is also (it seems) to be met with in Greenland, I will not enter into, but the inclination for drink can certainly only refer to coffee; Jonathan was therefore, at least in our sense of the word, no “soaker.” Before anything else, we now wanted a pilot to guide us from Friedrichsthal further on our way. No one seemed more suited to this than Jonathan himself, and for this post he declared himself ready, only begging to be allowed first to settle his affairs at home. The permission was willingly granted. Jonathan hurried home. Had he not also to take the weighty news of our arrival to his people? and no true Greenlander could have foregone such an opportunity of showing his importance.

Our friendly hosts would not hear of our immediate departure; but when we learnt that a royal Danish colonial ship, the brig Constance, Captain Bang, was expected in Julianeshaab every moment, and that we could not reckon upon any other opportunity this year of returning to Europe, unless the later coming Peru should take us, or that we should travel northwards thirty German miles to Ivikät, the place where cryolite is shipped, we determined to hasten to Julianeshaab, and if possible make our home voyage in the Constance. We had thought the ships running from Denmark to Greenland stopped at every European settlement along the coast to Cape Farewell, and had so understood the notice in Maury’s sailing directions. Here in Friedrichsthal, however, we learned better. A large vessel had never, on account of the ice, come any further than Julianeshaab. The southern trading-places and missions, Sudpröven, Lichtenau, Igdlopait, Nennortalik, Ostpröven, Friedrichsthal, and Pamiädluk had to fetch all their necessaries in small sailing-boats from Julianeshaab or in the Greenland women’s boats. Remembering that Julianeshaab is eighty miles from Friedrichsthal, and that the light, fragile hide-boats can only be used in fine weather, one can easily see that it is no easy matter for the poor Friedrichsthalers to provide their yearly stock of provisions.

We further learned that, for the moment, the missionaries, on account of the non-arrival of the provision transports the year before, had but little to spare. The German mission in Greenland is provided with all and everything they want for the support of life from Copenhagen, by the Moravian Mission Society. Every year one of the ships takes the goods, and in the summer visits once both South and North Greenland, from whence the parties concerned provide means of further transport. The often unfavourable situation of the ice, and sometimes the loss of the ship, prevents the cargo from always falling into the hands of the rightful owner. To meet such an emergency, the stations have mostly a year’s store in advance.

Our friends the Friedrichsthalers, might well find that, on account of the ice, they could not reach Julianeshaab; we ought, therefore, not to make too great a hole in their provisions. So we resolved that, as soon as Jonathan returned, we would travel on. For to-morrow and the next day we would stay where we were.

About three o’clock, an excellent meal was served up, upon which we set to work valiantly. This is the _menu_: wine-soup, roast kid, with a mess of potatoes (dried potatoes); then pancakes and pickled gherkins, with light white wine.

In the afternoon, curiosity moved me to pay another visit to the Esquimaux village. All the houses stood empty; the windows were taken out, the inside was stiff with dirt. The huge dung-heap, which here never fails at any Greenland dwelling, spreads a pestilential odour, and it is not to be wondered at that millions of flies crawl in and around, setting the heaps perfectly in motion. In the absence of men, some goats received us; and as I seated myself at the other end of the village, to take a sketch of the mission, the horned fourfooted beasts took me for some exotic dainty, and nibbled at me so all over, that I was at last obliged to go away, followed by a herd of them.

And now it was time for the evening meal--a large dish of milk-soup, and a mountain of excellent egg-cakes. The missionaries have chickens, which in the summer, when the village is deserted, find plenty of nourishment. Over this, of course, much was asked and related. Strangely enough, we now learned that, quite unintentionally, we had found the best way from East Greenland. Prince Christian Sound was, according to the missionaries, quite blocked with ice and difficult to cross, being filled up with earth as we thought it was not; and our Fjord was a discovery. We were also enlightened as to why we had not seen any inhabitants. All Greenlanders have a great dread of the men who live high up in the north on the east side, and who, according to their ideas, are cannibals. (See, too, Graah’s communications on this head.) This idea may be an echo of the old Norse traditions. Imagine us, therefore, in our three boats, things never before seen coming from the north along the coast! Must we not have filled the faint-hearted, superstitious Greenlanders with indescribable terror, and wherever they saw us, put them to a hurried flight? We may have sailed close under their villages; it is even possible that, at Sedlevik, we passed the night close to one of them. But the low, oven-shaped, grass-overgrown huts can only be seen and recognized when close against them, or when the eye is familiar with their appearance; besides which, the Eastlanders go between the islands to catch the seals. The greater part of them were, therefore, absent.[24] Of their condition the missionaries knew little. In former times, some intercourse had been kept up with them, and on Alluk Island there was every year a sort of exchange market between East and West Greenland. This had long since been given up. Visits from the east side were very rare.[25] The people are, it is said, finer and stronger than those of West Greenland, and have light and brown hair. Does not this remind us of the old Northmen? If it happens that East Greenlanders settle in the west, they must first be acclimatized; they must go through a skin disease, which the missionaries call “Eskimokrätze.” It is not contagious, and the natives of the west coast never suffer from it. Amongst the inhabitants of Friedrichsthal, was a woman from the east; she and her children formed the only family unbaptized; all the others were Christians. Thus we had much to talk about; and it was getting late when we retired to our couch in the schoolroom. The latter, with the bedroom (the church), forms an additional building to the mission house. How wonderful it seemed to us that, for the first time since the 2nd of January, we could take off our clothes ere we lay down to rest! How free from care we could give ourselves up to sleep! How many anxious terrible nights lay behind us!--now, all was happily passed! We had already finished our night toilet when the door opened, and there in his never-ending goodness came Mr. Starick, laden with beer, in case we should be thirsty in the night. Beer! What German could withstand that! The bottles were uncorked, and soon the foaming drink filled the tankard, doing all honour to its Greenland brewer.

It was late when sleep overtook us, tired out! Once more did the picture of the past vividly recur to our minds, from the tragedy of our shipwreck, to the happy moment which brought us to Friedrichsthal; and in our inmost hearts we all ejaculated, “God be thanked!”