Chapter IX

FURTHER STAY IN FRIEDRICHSTHAL. JOURNEY VIÂ IGIKAIT
TO NENNORTALIK.[26]

Occurrences and impressions in Friedrichsthal.--Intercourse
with the natives.--Matrons and maidens.--Provision
cellars in Greenland.--Good qualities and quickness of
the Greenlander.--Delay of our departure.--Fishery in
Narksamiut.--Presents at parting.--Burying-places near
Friedrichsthal.--Farewell and departure from Friedrichsthal.--A
European recluse at Igikait.--The Danish settlers.

Early the next morning friend Starick appeared with a bountiful breakfast. The yesterday’s demolition of biscuits was repeated, only quicker, as we were alone. Then we set to work upon our morning toilet; one after the other turned out as much cleansed and “got-up” as possible. Our men had done the same, particularly Philipp, who looked quite grand. No wonder that he at once made himself master of a Greenland maiden’s heart. Outside, meanwhile, the women had been washing the linen we had taken off.

We had not to wait long for new scenes and impressions of the strangest kind. Already some canoes had come in, and their conductors had approached our boats quite confidingly. These small, black little fellows, I took for boys of fourteen, but was told that they were married people and fathers of families. Of course, everything that was given to them was useful, and they were soon good friends with our men. Not a little proudly did each one bring out his rifle and powder-horn from his canoe; but when our men took the “needle-guns” and fired rapidly, they were dumb with astonishment, and stood with their mouths wide open. The musical-box which we had with us caused little less wonderment. It was too ridiculous to see the amazement of the little men, as well as the women, at the tinkling box. I think if Mr. Starick himself had not been there, their thoughts would have turned to the long-forgotten “Tornik,”[27] their evil genius, and we should have been taken for enchanters; but their friendship was heartier than ever. The missionary and our pilots were shooting at the target on the strand, and the natives kept watch, while others visited the servants in their houses, who were busy making shoes for those of us who needed them. I presented each one with a sewing-needle, and earned a friendly “Kojunok” (I thank you much for it), which was the first Greenland word I learnt. I cannot affirm that the Greenland ladies are bashful, for during our stay in the women’s house the cook Luise came in, and quite coolly in our presence made the most critical alterations in her dress. The girls and women looked goodnatured and dull; there were eight of them, as I tried to draw them in my pocket-book; and Eva, whom I fully portrayed, was not a little vain. We also allowed them to write their names in our note-books, whereat the fair Greenlanders displayed the same naive coyness and affectation as our lovely ones at home. What a tittering and whispering, what turning and twisting! At last they all stood on the page; even the honoured fifty-year old Miss Sybilla had, with much bashfulness, entered her name. When we went away they thanked us for our visit.

But a curiosity was still to be seen this morning in the shape of a Greenland cellar or store-house. The respected reader must not think of a similar locality in our country. The Greenlanders are contented in this respect with an excavation in the overhanging rock, which they build up with a stone wall like a swallow’s nest. In this, without any choice, is heaped all that is good for winter use--dried fish, seal-bacon, and meat--until the place is full, when the last hole is blocked up with a stone. Such cellars the Greenlanders like to have away from their houses. Accustomed to live from hand to mouth, they are no friends to saving. They eat as long as there is anything there, or they see anything. When, however, the cellar with its store is not near them, and cannot provoke their appetite, then, in the long winter-time, when there would often be poor fare, they have something to fall back upon. It never enters their heads to injure the possessions of another; so they need never fear that their neighbour will empty their cellar. The missionaries praised their converts particularly for their honesty, and assured us that nothing but the bitterest hunger would occasionally tempt any of them to take anything eatable from their neighbour.

Even in this respect we had nothing to complain of but something more I can say to the honour of the good Greenlanders. There was scarcely one who could not write his own name; and it is really astonishing what fine regular handwriting is to be met with. Even a poor little boy, too weak to paddle a canoe, who worked in the mission as a day-labourer for his meals, could write his name well and distinctly. I can also call the Greenlanders a musical community, in spite of compassionate smiles. The horn-music in their church they provide themselves; the organ, too, is superintended by a sleek Greenlander; and more than that, he writes hymns and composes music himself. Observe also the artistic way in which the Greenland women ornament leather. With what trouble and patience they make the finest mosaic of different coloured leathers no bigger than the head of a pin, sewing them together to adorn shoes and such like things; and how, under good guidance, they acquire a taste for clean and well-ordered households.

Good guidance is, however, very necessary. The Greenland men and women whom we saw later, were as different from those of the mission of Friedrichsthal as night is from day, and the real specific Greenland household, we could only learn to know by degrees.

At table to-day our host told us that he had been informed by the natives that, a few days before, they had heard from the neighbours that some people were coming from the east, and that they had been much frightened about it, but were composed now, as we were the expected arrival. From the first it may be that the news of our coming had spread among the natives, owing to our having been seen in the distance among the islands. But the Greenlanders have the evil propensity of speaking contrary to the truth to please one.

Thus, later on, we heard that our floe had been met with, and that, if we liked, we might satisfy ourselves that such was the case. They also related how that they had seen the Germania at full steam near Cape Farewell; they had begged them to pilot them to Friedrichsthal, or anywhere to land; but they had not listened to them, and the steamer had at once sailed from the coast northwards. Strange it always seemed to us; but the missionaries assured us that they certainly expected to see some one from the German expedition. Shortly before our arrival they had said, “Now they must soon come.” They had mentioned it to the natives, and when they saw us and prepared to fly, Starick composed them by the words, “They are our countrymen, who we told you would come.” They had also rightly concluded that, from the condition of the ice around Friedrichsthal, we should have much difficulty in reaching the coast. As during the summer months but little ice had shown itself at Cape Farewell, all the more must have remained above. At the same time, it was so thick at the end of September, that the missionaries were obliged to give up their official journey. This setting of the ice southward we not long afterwards traced to the accelerated speed of the drift.

In the afternoon Jonathan’s brother, Esra, came to visit his friends. We had just retreated to the schoolroom, when he peeped curiously in at the window, and we signed to him to come in. He did not wait to be asked twice. How just seemed his claim to a gift! A handful of tobacco went straight to the mouth, but his sharp eye had lit upon another dainty morsel, the worth of which we certainly underrated. In the fireplace lay the end of a cigar; Esra picked it up, and asked if he might have it. We then found several pieces for him about the room. But a number of these stumps disappeared at once. I could not conceive where, and told him so; when he grinningly opened his wide mouth, pointing to either side, where, between teeth and cheeks, lay a store. Hence the reason that the Greenland men have such great swellings in the lower jaw.

We gave up our intention of starting the next day, at the special request of our hosts. They affirmed that by Cape Egede, which we must pass, there was a great deal of ice, and gave it as their opinion that the north wind now blowing would in a day or two open up a path. In the evening, Missionary Starick and Mr. Hildebrandt rowed up the Narksamiut. They went to a place in the centre of the Fjord, where about eighty women and children were busy with the herring fishery. The Greenland herrings, the “Angmaksätten” as the natives call them, are for them as important as the seal; they form their chief nourishment. If the draught is bad, famine is at hand. Like our herrings, these small smelt-like fishes (_Mallotus arcticus_, Fabr.) rush into the Fjords in great numbers in the evening, and are taken out of the water in sack-nets by women and children. Without either cleaning or opening they are then simply laid on the grass until the sun has dried them sufficiently; they are then collected into an old skin sack, or stowed in any other way for the winter, and eventually consumed after being dipped in oil. As they became aware of the presence of the boats, the women broke into a howl of terror; some even fled to the tent. At last they saw their friend Starick, and became somewhat calmer, soon quite confiding; and the boys paddled their canoes in emulation round the boats. They promised the home-returning ones some fresh “Angmaksätten” early the next day, and they kept their word. Two great tubs of fish arrived the next morning, and prepared by the careful hand of our hostess came on table for breakfast. We did them justice, for they were excellent.

To-day, too, some canoes came to visit us; and amongst our sailors were soon some to be found, who wished to try a voyage in these light craft, which certainly for an unpractised man are very difficult to manage. The reader, unversed in the customs and usages of the Greenlanders, must know that they have two different sorts of boats, the “Kajak,” and the “Umiak.” The Kajak, or canoe, is about eighteen feet long, very narrow and low, the thin ribs of which are covered with seal’s leather. In the middle of this skin-covered boat is a circular opening, large enough for the body of a man. Here sits the paddler. He must sit with his legs stretched out straight before him, to keep his balance, and work his way forward by means of the double stroke of the paddle. On the deck before him the Greenlander has his hunting tackle, bird and seal harpoons, lances and slings, and on a particular table some rolled up harpoon-thongs made of sealskin. Behind him the canoe bears, besides provisions and booty, an inflated sealskin, which, attached to the harpoon, prevents the seal just shot from sinking.

The canoe is the men’s exclusive vehicle; boys of twelve years old have their canoes, and make good practice with them. It is in any case their chief possession, and is as important to them as the flint is to our hunter. In the community of the Moravian missionaries, where the native poor are recognized as a class, the men and children receive a canoe fitted up as a means of subsistence. At the same time, any man who is not too old and too feeble, thinks it beneath his dignity to sit in a Umiak. These boats are used by the women, and are called women’s boats.

A Umiak is about thirty feet long and very narrow. Like the Kajak it is built of light ribs of deal, covered over with seal’s leather. The Umiak is flat-bottomed, constructed the same both fore and aft; the rim on both sides, with the inward-turned fork, extends somewhat over the body of the boat. The cavity thus formed by the fork serves for the attachment of tow-ropes, as well as to make fast the boats when they are pulled out of the water. For this purpose they use besides heavy stones, as, in spite of their size, these skin-boats are so light that a storm will carry them through the air. From six to eight women, who sit on small seats in the after-part, set them in motion with a shovel-shaped oar, by springing from their seats, and after three strokes stopping for a time. The large well-to-do families have each their Umiak, but smaller and poor ones have one in common. In every Mission, too, some are to be met with; for however fragile these vessels seem to be, and at first, from the water oozing through the sealskin, very uncomfortable, they are generally, even by Europeans, admitted to be the most desirable means of conveyance. The missionaries use them on their coast voyages, which extend more than 120 miles. Certainly they can stand neither rough sea nor ice, and in unfavourable weather have to lie on shore for days together; on the other hand, they are light to carry, and in spite of their fragile appearance are wonderfully firm and capacious. Such a skin-boat can carry a weight of thirty Danish tons. A Umiak, however, never travels alone--a man in a Kajak (the Kajalik) always accompanies it. Either it is the owner himself, or some other native (as for example is customary with the travelling missionaries), hired for the purpose. At certain times, namely in summer, when the Greenlanders move from place to place, whole fleets of these vessels may be met with, which on such occasions are generally lively enough.

The bacon-face of old Sybilla, who had taken such a fancy to Philipp, or “Bilik” as she called him, beamed with delight as she saw her darling travelling round the harbour in a canoe. But it was not so easy to keep above water, and no easy task for an inexperienced person to keep the legs stretched out so straight. The natives, however, greeted this first attempt with joyful grins. They were already on the best of footing with our men, and a small exchange of civilities took place in the most peaceful and satisfactory way. Even the female servants at the mission were soon sociable and trustful. Konrad had installed himself precentor, and made the girls sing some choruses; and we were surprised to hear how true and correctly these people sang. Certainly they drawled every melody frightfully; and the execution of the hymn, “We had built a stately house,” to which they had adapted Greenland words, sounded in most wonderful fashion from the lips of the native ladies.

We had already gone to rest, when two Umiaks with women and children arrived from the Fjord, and at once encamped by our boats, carrying on such a loud conversation through the night, that no one could sleep. As we came down to the strand the next morning, it was alive with men, women, and children, who from their dirty appearance showed to great disadvantage compared with the people of the mission. For the last time we sat in the hospitable circle of the Friedrichsthalers at breakfast: we then took our departure. The few days we had spent here had served to attach us so sincerely to the inhabitants of the Mission, that parting was painful; with much emotion we spoke our thanks to our dear kind hosts. We took leave of the women on the shore who had remained behind, and also of the natives who had come to see us. The good Friedrichsthalers had provided us plentifully with food--fresh baked bread, butter, sugar and coffee. With three cheers we set to at the oars, and soon the “Look-out” mountain hid the friendly Friedrichsthal from our eyes.

We were accompanied in state. Mr. Gericke and his little daughter conducted us in the Umiak, which was also filled with the whole household, as far as the next station; and twelve natives in canoes formed our escort. On the other side of the Narksamiut, under the before-mentioned high towering cape, lies Igikait, the Herjulfsnäs of the old Norsemen. There is but little of the walls left as evidence of former European dwellings; but some years ago it is said that the waters of the Narksamiut washed up a coffin with the body of an ordained priest. At this day there lives in the long-abandoned settlement an old European, who has learnt to renounce the world, and as a free man with little means leads a life of liberty. This inhabitant of Igikait is named Hagen, a tough, hospitable Dane, in his fiftieth year, who came into the country as a subordinate official, and married a half-caste woman, a “Blanding,”[28] and now with the permission of the Government lives a sort of improvised idyl at Igikait. His whole wealth consists of a large herd of goats, which in summer find plenty of nourishment on the green coast. He and his family live in a house constructed exactly like the Greenlanders’, but more roomy, and it differed in the interior by being clean and airy. His wife and daughter, like all the people here, except Europeans, wear the Greenland women’s dress; the difference, however, is favourably seen in those of European descent, and struck us in these women, for up to this time we had only seen full-blooded Greenlanders. Indeed, Hagen’s slim daughter, with her delicate complexion and dreamy northern features, did not look amiss. A son of Mr. Hagen’s had a situation in Jvigtuk as trader in the service of the Danish Company. The youngest son was to accompany us in his canoe to Nennortalik, where he was going to be confirmed.

After our greeting, we did not stay long at Igikait. Hagen had spread his treasures on the shore; that is, he had prepared a row of tubs full of fresh milk, and invited us in an idiom, composed of Danish, Greenlandish, and broken German to partake of them. Those who wanted any took moderately, and in order to put the poor man to no further trouble, we took a hasty leave. Mr. Gericke remained behind with the people of the mission. It was really a hard moment when we shook hands with him and his for the last time. The good girls could not help weeping, and gave us their hands over and over again. As we sat in the boats and pushed from the shore, they called and nodded after us. We journeyed on; the neighbourhood of Friedrichsthal soon disappeared from our sight; our convoy had also diminished; some canoes had remained in Igikait, and some had gone back. We were now alone with Jonathan, Hagen’s son (whom we were to take to Nennortalik), and a volunteer, who having just had a son born to him begged Mr. Hildebrandt to be godfather to it. We had thrown a rope to Jonathan, who as pilot tugged with all his might at the flotilla, while our volunteer made all kinds of artistic strokes with his weapons.

_Page 198._

BOAT-JOURNEY IN COMPANY WITH A CANOE.]

Although the ice on our way reached pretty close to the land, we came across no hindrance; only that, as the wind was against us, we had to lay upon our oars. Wild mountain chains formed with their sharply cut contours a most lovely distant view. About noon we caught sight of a high Greenland mountain; like an obelisk, the thin rocky peak rises boldly into the clouds.[29] Cape Egede, too, of evil repute on account of the piled-up ice, came in sight. At a small island (which bore the high-sounding though not easily pronounced name “Kikertarsoeitsiak”) we landed for a short rest. Some ptarmigan provoked the bloodthirsty appetites of our hunters at once; and even our Greenland godfather could not allow this opportunity of showing his dexterity in fire-arms to pass, without availing himself of it. Once more we were all together, and the cold cakes from Friedrichsthal were very acceptable. Even for the natives who, lying on the rocks, were watching our movements with longing eyes, we laid out two good portions; for Mr. Starick told us that we were to give our pilot Jonathan something, if we did not wish to wound his feelings; indeed he would have felt it so deeply, that very little would have made him turn back and go home. There was, therefore, nothing left for us to do, but leave the godfather’s empty stomach unsupplied. But Jonathan was a good fellow; as he received his share, he divided it good-naturedly with his countryman, and both chewed with full cheeks as for a wager.

About four o’clock, we reached the vicinity of Nennortalik--in German, “Bear Island.” Here is a small Danish store, or provision depôt; this was the end of this day’s journey, and was about half way to Lichtenau. Over against this island lie others, which rise into rather high steep mountains. Not until the harbour is reached, do the few houses of the place come in sight. We had been already seen from the land; soon we were surrounded by a whole fleet of canoes; and Jonathan, who had fastened his up, and now sat with us in the boat, thought not a little of this new honour. As we neared the island, some of our companions left us and hurried forwards; and not long afterwards loud salvos were heard, as if the destruction of a fortress were determined on, the surrounding mountains re-echoing the sound two and threefold. For a festive reception from the Danes we were not in the least prepared; there was no end to the firing. As we turned the last rocky promontory, which had hidden Nennortalik from our view, we saw that the banks of the harbour were crowded with people, from the midst of whom shots rose in the air every now and then. Again and again the crowd broke into howls of delight. More than three hundred natives--men, women, and children--waited our arrival. We had hoisted our flag. As a return greeting, the Danish colours fluttered from the station-house. We had some difficulty in preventing the people, in their willingness to serve us, from pulling us to land in the boats. The men really tore each other, in order to lay their hands on the painter. At length the figure of a European pushed through the crowd; it was the merchant, Mr. Rosing, who now welcomed us, and invited us to accept his hospitality. The ceremonious politeness of the man left us in doubt as to whether he had provided this festive reception for us; but he soon enlightened us himself. He admitted openly, that for his part he would not have wasted so much powder upon us; besides which, it was Esra who had gone from one island to the other, relating our story, and had thus caused all the natives to assemble from all parts to receive us in this alarming manner. I had already seen Esra’s friendly face in the crowd and nodded to him; that his countrymen should be assembled in such numbers seemed to make him very happy. Shortly after our landing, the natives dispersed in their “Umiaks” and “Kajaks.” It had not escaped me that the type of population at Nennortalik differed essentially from that of Friedrichsthal. What we afterwards remarked in all Danish colonies and outlying towns we here noticed for the first time, namely, the preponderance of European features, even amongst the Greenland natives. Indeed, those who wish to know the genuine unmixed Greenlanders, will only find them at the Moravian mission-villages in South Greenland; the people of the Danish settlements and their neighbourhood, are for the most part “Blandings,” amongst whom the European stamp prevails. Even in Nennortalik we saw girls with flaxen hair, blue eyes, and delicate white complexions; the men’s physiognomies, too, were far more intelligent than in the full-blooded Greenlander; here and there we saw beards, though very scanty ones. Owing to the thinly-scattered population of Greenland, one must not be astonished at the striking mixture of the European race which everywhere prevails; and still less so, when one takes into consideration that, owing to circumstances, an intermingling of the natives with the Europeans must occur; the missionaries and the higher civil officers of the Danish colonies have European wives, and their children are brought up in Europe. Again, the lower servants--coopers, carpenters, oil-melters, and so on--from their scanty earnings, are not in a position to keep their families in European style: circumstances compel them, accordingly, to marry in Greenland. The issue of these marriages never have the opportunity of being educated in Europe. In some cases they are engaged by the Danish Government, or some relations in their own country take them; but, as I said before, few are so fortunate; the greater number remain in the country, adopting its customs, language, dress, and manners of living, and retaining but little signs of their descent beyond the features. I had the opportunity of making acquaintance with the fourth generation of a Danish family which had become entirely Greenlandish. Considering this change in so short a time, we can no longer wonder that, on his arrival in Greenland, Hans Egede found no trace of his Norse countrymen who had settled there hundreds of years before. The remains of them had been absorbed amongst the natives.

Mr. Rosing, who welcomed us kindly to his house, informed us that he had authentic news that the brig Constance had reached Julianeshaab. He regretted at the same time that he had not heard of us before, as shortly before our arrival he had sent a boat to Julianeshaab, which could have announced our arrival there. Now, he maintained, there was little prospect that the Constance would take us with her; for having a second Greenland journey to make this summer, she would only unload and put to sea again; that she had been much hindered by the ice, and therefore her stay in Julianeshaab would consist of only a few days. Further, Mr. Rosing affirmed that we could not reach the colony in time to accompany her. He consoled us with the prospect of Ivikät, a station lying sixteen miles north from Julianeshaab in the Arsut Fjord, where generally in summer several ships come to load with Kryolite.[30] The prospect of a long boat voyage, however, did not please us. What should we do now? After a short consultation, we formed our resolutions. As the boat had already left Nennortalik, we had to look out for another, naturally our eyes fell upon Jonathan. At the same time we begged Mr. Rosing to write to the superintendent of the colony, and ask him to assure us a passage in the Constance. Mr. Rosing was willing, and Jonathan was soon won over. We should stay in Lichtenau for the answer.

After dinner, while Mr. Rosing was writing the letter, we took a walk round the neighbourhood.

Nennortalik belongs to the superior class of settlements in Greenland. The dwelling-houses of the merchants, painted black, with white window-frames and peaceful-looking gardens, make a pleasing impression; but the houses of the natives are built of stone and turf, some having a roof made of planks nailed together. The fittings of the interior were thoroughly Greenlandish. A narrow low passage leads to a room of very modest dimensions, with a wainscoting all round. The greater part of this room is taken up with the wooden benches, which form the sleeping-place of all the inhabitants. The walls are decorated with gaudy lithographs, sometimes even gilt-framed looking-glasses. Next to the window, as a luxury, stands a small table; and instead of chairs, one or two chests.

To a European, a stay in such a house is a difficult matter. The evaporation from its occupants, the train-oil lamps, the half-putrid food, the state of corruption of the skin-clothing, poison the atmosphere to such a degree that it is almost impossible to breathe. There are means of airing the dwellings, in the large window which takes up the whole south side of the wall, but it is so besmeared, that the daylight only comes in thick and gloomy; still it never enters the heads of the people to open it. The island itself is wild and rather flat, strewn with erratic boulders; and on the west side it rises to a high mountain ridge, the outer promontory of which forms the well-known Cape Egede. Mosses, lichens, cranberries, and bilberries, form of their kind a luxuriant vegetation, if the term “luxuriant” is not inappropriately applied to these waste rocks.

Jonathan was soon ready for the journey, but begged, as he received the letter, that he might have a few hours’ rest; as he feared that, if not, he should be overtaken by sleep and so not arrive at the right time; promising to hurry afterwards and bring the answer to Lichtenau without delay. This was willingly granted to the good fellow. The evening we spent with our kind host; at night a small house sheltered us, which is set apart by the colony for strange travellers; for whoever travels in Greenland must be beholden to hospitality, as there are no inns. Our room was, of course, not fitted up with too much comfort; but our sleep was, nevertheless, a blessed one.