Dillon Wallace

The Wilderness Castaways


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look it,” agreed Paul.

      The lads wandered about the encampment, examining the kayaks and crude hunting implements and paraphernalia of the Eskimos. Upon approaching the tupeks a stench met their nostrils, which they found came from half putrid seal meat and fish within.

      “They eats wonderful bad meat,” remarked Dan.

      “Why, they don’t eat that stuff!” exclaimed Paul.

      “Yes they does,” said Dan.

      “What pigs they must be!”

      “No, ’tis just th’ way they always been used to doin’. They has wonderful hard times t’ get things t’ eat sometimes.”

      At the end of an hour Remington and Ainsworth returned.

      “Not a strike,” said Remington, “though I’m certain there are plenty of salmon in the stream. We’re a little far north for them to take the fly. But Ainsworth got our dinner. That’s something.”

      “Ran into a bunch of ptarmigans,” said Ainsworth, holding up a half dozen birds.

      “How are you making out with the huskies, Tom?” asked Remington of Tom, who had joined them.

      “Kuglutuk, th’ old un, sir, will go with us. He’s ready to start any time, sir. We has t’ land him at Cape Smith or Cape Wolstenholm, sir, when we comes back.”

      “All right, Tom. Can’t we get brush enough around here to broil these grouse and make some coffee? I’m famished.”

      “Yes, sir. Dan, get th’ axe, b’y, an’ put on a fire, whilst I dresses th’ birds.”

      When Tom drew the birds, to Paul’s amazement the Eskimos gathered up the entrails, placed them on the end of a stick, broiled them slightly over the fire Dan had lighted, and ate them as they might a delicacy.

      “Well, I never!” exclaimed Paul. “I’d starve before I’d do that!”

      “Maybe,” said Tom, “but I’m thinkin’ you’d eat un an’ like un if you was hungry enough. They’s no tellin’ what a man’ll eat. Th’ huskies eats un because they likes un, an’ entrails ain’t so bad, an’ you gets used t’ un, though I’m hopin’ you’ll never have t’ eat un, lad.”

      “I never would,” positively asserted Paul. “I’d die first.”

      Luncheon eaten, they bade adieu to the Eskimos, shaking hands again all around. Kuglutuk, his kayak in tow, took his place in the power boat, “Oksunae” was shouted by those afloat and those on land, and the little settlement was quickly lost sight of around the point at the entrance of the cove.

      On board the North Star again, a conference was held as to the most probable point at which salmon and trout could be found, Tom acting as interpreter. It was at length decided, upon Kuglutuk’s recommendation, to visit the rivers flowing into Richmond Gulf, which, considerably farther south, offered greater promise that salmon would take the fly, though Kuglutuk assured them that both varieties of fish abounded in all the streams of the coast.

      Three days later found the North Star in the latitude of Richmond Gulf, and with much careful maneuvering under the guidance of Kuglutuk, and with frequent heaving of the lead, a safe anchorage was found in Nastapoka Sound, behind the islands which shut out the wider sea beyond.

      The entrance to Richmond Gulf is an exceedingly narrow, treacherous channel, through which Kuglutuk declared no vessel so large as the North Star could pass in safety. Through this channel he said the rising and ebbing tide poured with so terrific a rush of the waters that dangerous whirlpools were formed, which rendered its safe passage for kayaks and small craft impossible save at the time of the turning of the tide.

      It was late afternoon when the ship made her anchorage, and it was decided to prepare for the passage of the dangerous strait in the power boat when the tide should reach flood at ten o’clock the next morning.

      Kuglutuk, Tom Hand and Dan Rudd were to accompany the three sportsmen, and it was planned that the party should carry a full camping equipment, and remain at the head of Richmond Gulf one week.

      The weather was propitious—mild, clear, delightful. This was to be Paul’s first experience in camp. Before him lay a rugged, unpeopled, unknown wilderness. He was to enter it and be a part of it. The romance of it thrilled him, and he lay awake that night a long while, feasting anticipation and imagination, too restless to sleep.

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