Evening Star Newspaper, March 30, 1930, Page 106

20 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, MARCH 30, 1930. “Nhere There’s a Fiord for Every Family T hrough Storm-Lashed Deserts of Ice and Acrobatic Bergs to the Most Northerly Town in the World—Hunting for Seals. Greeland’s Ice Cap—The Blue-Eyed, Red-Headed Scandinavian Eskimos. EDITOR'S NOTE—Mr. Street- er, author of “Denatured Africa,” “Camels!” and “An Arctic Rodeo,” here gives further details of the scientific expedition to the Arctic which he joined: for the sake of ad- venture. As usual with Mr. Street- er's adventures, they are amusing as well as exciting. In a previous -article he told of the voyage of the schooner, the Effi M. Morrissey, to the shores of Greenland. BY DANIEL W. STREETER. LOWLY the sun had been ‘“stealing a few hours from the night,” until suddenly, with something almost amounting to surprise, we realized that it had taken things into its own hands and given up setting entirely. We had reached the land where “day slept with its eyes open.” Our existence became unnatural; permanent- 1y flooded with light. It hammered incessant- 1y against one's eyes. There was no escaping it. One slept fitfully, regardles of time, when- ever he became exhausted, to dream of the soothing narcotic effect of black velvet dark- ness. Hour after hour we glided over the deep silent waters of Ikertok Fiord, toward the icy interior of Greenland. There is not much stingo in the assertion that Greenland is the second largest island on the globe. The fact that it stretches from Cape Farewell, latitude 59° north, into the Polar Sea to about 83° north, is also practically bar- yen of emotional appeal. Its actual area is 825,000 square miles, but 710,000 square miles of it lies buried under a vast sheet of paleocrystic ice, rising at its highest point to nearly 10,000 feet. This is referred to as the “Ice Cap” and is the largest body of ice of its kind known to exist. It covers the interior in a gently undulating sheet, rounding off as it reaches the shoreline in a sharp drop. What the contour of the land beneath it resembles, remains, and is likely to remain, a deep mystery. This is disappoint- ing to all contour-lovers. If the area of the Ice Cap is deducted from its total area, we find that all Greenland really consists of is 115,000 square miles of coastal fringe. The place is in the middle of a glacial period, with very little indication of a thaw setting in. HE interior is a dead, storm-lashed desert of ' ice almost defying exploration. Kryokonite, or cosmic dust, lies scattered over its surface and when the Summer sun beats down innum- rable potholes form, ranging in diameter from inches to three or four feet.” Lakes fill the depressions, while miniature rivers rush down to the sea carving deep canyons in the ice. Traveling is ar aquatic adventure. No living thing is seen. The coastal fringe ranges in width from a few hundred yards to a hundred miles. From all accounts it seemed more like a frazzle than a fringe. The place was discovered by a Norseman mamed Gunbjorn, but he let the matter drop. It was not until Eric the Red ran across it in 983 AD. that Greenland really came into its own. His vivid imagination supplied it with a name, His seductive persuasiveness populated it with followers from Icelapd. After a taste of Iceland there was a certain appeal to the suggestion that they could be no worse off in Greenland. Loading families, worldly goods and cattle into their Viking ships they sailed around to the west coast. The sight that met their eyes is described by a modern enthusiast as follows: “The costal fringe of Greenland is one of the most sublime and magnificent cycloramas of mature; its superb mountains, terraced cliffs, chaotic abysses, sheets of spotless snow, end- less stretches of glacial ice, numberless. silver threads of winding waters have no equal.” It sounds just the kind of place one would select for the old homestead. A “terraced cliff” in your back yard, with the front porch terminat- ing in a “chaotic abyss” certainly adds a mel- low touch of -hominess. They unloaded their Viking ships and settled down. A man’s real estate holdings were vertical instead of hori- gontal. All one had to do to see what was going on in the cow pasture was lie down on his back and look up. Each family had its private fiord. Some of the more patrician had even three or four. If a farmer was unable to use all his fiords he could always trade one in for a “chaotic abyss.” It was dandy, There was no lumber in Greenland, yet ships were a necessity to the settlers, so as long as supplies came from Europe all went well. But for some strange reason about the year 1500 the ©Old World suddenly became so interested in its own affairs it suffered a complete lapse of memory with respect to the colonists. For the next hundred years'“they remained forgotten. ‘u«n around 1560 PHOMIEHEr and’ B-wonu(f; 29U M + behind it. occasion to look the place over and were mildly surprised at finding no Norsemen. But more Norsemen came early in the eighteenth century. They took to marrying Eskimos, so today the result of this mingling insists on being referred to as a Greenlander. With a good deal of reason he is proud of his synthetic ancestry. To his ears the use of the term Eskimo is as degrading as though one had branded him a barbarian, savage or aborigine. So frequently the blue eyes, red hair and fair complexions of the Greenlander sing a song of Scandinavia, while skin clothing, aromatic igloos and characteristic food just as surely proclaim the Eskimo. ET they do not worry about split person- alities. Each half leads an existence of automatic felicity. When the Norseman gets hungary the Eskimo goés out and harpoons a seal. When the Eskimo returns from the hunt and craves entertainment, the Norseman un- limbers the old accordion and fills the night with music. The Eskimo has even been known to go out and get a drink for the Norseman and to fall asleep when his other half got drowsy. There is only one thing the Eskimo refuses to do for the Norseman, no matter how great the provocation, and that is take a bath. At the moment the Danish government has about 14,000 wards. During the last hundred years the population has doubled. There is a written and spoken language—a newspaper— local currency—in fact, there is much that we have invented to make life complicated. But they have, in their own fashion, simpli- fied matters of social contact. The unmarried women wear red ribbons in their hair; married women, blue; widows, black, and those that fall into none of these categories, green. “The ‘wearing of the green' takes on a new significance,” said our chief. “What are those that wear red and black mixed?” “A widow who's willing to take another chance,” suggested the cowboy. The taxidermist was pensive. “Well,” he re- marked at length, “there’s no excuse for a fel- low committing a social error up here unless he’s color blind.” The principal thing Greenland grows is ice. >thnaaect.hnofioet.hesheo(ucltyblock bursts from a glacier-face and floats majes- tically south, it ends up cruising the North Atlantic steamer lanes in competition with legitimate ocean trafic. At this point the ice is taken in charge by two international patrol boats. Each berg is given a number and its exact latitude and longitude is broadcast at regular intervals. Thus, gradually wasting away they are chaperoned to tropical waters and oblivion. These offsprings of the north wind are of every conceivable shape and size and perform the most unexpected acrobatic feats, for the water lapping against their smooth flanks is constantly disturbing their centers of gravity, They stand this as long as they can, then, as though in desperation, they roll over into a new position. The result is a series of tidal waves, fierce enough to swamp a good sized boat. They add a distinct zest to Arctic navi- gation. We passed the entrance of Umanak fiord by picking our way gingerly through a maze of newly born bergs. In the Summer the glacier at the head of the fiord is alleged to move at the rate of 35 feet a day—not a bad effort for solid ice. But strangely enough as we worked our way through this floating ice box the day was clear and warm. Though the heat was not tropical, it was genial and relaxing. We were about 1,200 miles from the Pole. Upernivik is about 72 degrees north and marks the limit of the Danish settlements in Greenland. It can claim the distinction of be- ing the most northerly town in the world, for even Hammerfest, Norway, lags several degrees At Upernivik we lunched with the governor. The first course consisted of a glass of schnapps. This was followed by mixed vegetables en casserole and a glass of schnapps. Next came a glass of schnapps. Then there was schnapps. Now a small river of assorted calories flowed freely around the board; canned herring, lobster, sausage, pig's head cheese, black bread and thinly sliced auk’s breast. Any taint of monotony was removed by a bottle of pale ale. A hard-boiled auk’s egg was featured just before a series of toasts of courtesy to the world’s illustrious dead. By the time the illustrious living were reached we were obliged to persuade the governor to lump them into one sweeping gesture and let it go at that. HEN we returned to the harbor the cow- boy squeezed himself into a native canoe and after telling the world that he was from Montana and could lick his weight in bulldogs, he announced, successively, that he was an Eskimno, Greta Garbo, a walrus, polar bear, sea lion, the reincarnation of Gen. Grant, and then proceeded to attempt the native feat of turning completely over under water. It was a very creditable performance. He was just 50 per cent successful. The only hiich was, he remained permanently suspended upside down. An expressive series of bubbles began to rise to the ‘sirfake. (Wh¥n i6 seamed s though' there TORML AW g could not possibly be another bubble left in the cowboy he was set right-side up by a skiff. Then we all sailed on the Melville Bay; a region that has caused moments of misgivings to some of the world’'s stoutest hearts. “Sixteen miles north to Duck Islands we met the dreaded Melville Bay pack,” writes Peary. Again he makes a terse entry: “Baffled by the ice of Mel- ville Bay,” and he continued so baffled from July 3 to 21. This kind of thing is not designed to encourage the ordinary traveler. He refers to it again as an “icy, bear-haunted waste.” We also read that since the opening of Mel- ville Bay no less than 210 vessels were de- stroyed in attempting its passage. Full of grim determintaion, we plunged into the “sailor’s graveyard.” If we had possessed any doubt a double ration of grog would have been served in the crisis to strength our forti- tude. Thirty-six hours later we lay off Cape York. Melville Bay was behind us. The Mediterranean in June is often much colder. ‘There wasn’'t a piece of ice to be seen, even the size of a pea. The dreaded region had borne a strange resemblance to a Venetian la- But, as we advanced to Cape York, blue bergs floated past us. To the east a vast bay, studded with bergs and pan ice, stretched into the distance, its rim inlald with monumental glaciers. In the extreme distance the sun glistened on the ice cap of Greenland. There may be wilder scenery on the earth’s crust, but it hardly seems probable. Perpendicular rock walls beetled over our heads. Myriads of little auks filled the air with chatter. Guillemots and eider ducks shot past, as full of purpose as though they knew ex- actly where they were going. Several seals rose half out of the water and gazed at us with round, moist eyes. We were at the edge of Admiral Peary's Arctic Oasis—3,000 miles distant from New York by sea, 2,200 by air, by wireless a second or two, but in social and geographical characteristics about 32,000,000 light years. Time had been suddenly thrown into reverse. Without any warning we found ourselves living in the middle of the last glacial period. We wove our way between the bergs to the fool of the glacier that dips into the bay be- hind the cape. For some time the shore seemed deserted, then four kayakers shot over the smooth water, and the next moment we were shaking hands with our first Arctic Highlanders. The Smith Sound Eskimos, as Peary found some years ago, had but two objects in life— securing something to eat and the wherewithal to clothe themselves. Their sole occupation consisted in the struggle for these objects. There was no time left for persifiage. They were without— Government. Religion. Salt, pepper or other condiments. Written language. Stimulants, narcotics, drugs. Money or standard of value. blood. Food, except blubber. meat Any edible substance of vegetable origin (they didn't have any vegetables), clothing. hunting equipment. traveling equipment. skin tents. On the positive side they were— Intelligent. Ingenious. Thoroughly human. Men of iron with respect to their cold. disregard of< hunger. doetib e And property, except L o [enigoinos gorzod ~ He had been talking to that seal like a father. Now™ he motioned us to shoot. The Smith Sound Eskimo is unacquainted with alcohol in any form, and probably it is all for the best. In the Winter of 1916 Comdr. Fitzhugh Green bécame lost in Melville Bay with three Eskimos. The thermomgter stood 48 degrees below zero. The continuous dark- ness of the polar night enveloped them. “For three years,” he said, “I had carried a pint flask of Navy whisky for emergencies. It looked as though the emergency had at last arrived, as the Eskimos, Arklio, Koolootingwah and Nucartingwah, were on the point of de- _ serting. We were perishing with cold. The food was gone. To cheer them up I divided the pint into four pertions; and after I had tossed mine off to satisfy them there wasn’t a devil in the bottle, they drank theirs. THE results were unexpected. For 30 seconds they stood and looked at each other in a dazed way. Then Koolootingwah threw himseif on the ice and uttered a yell they must have heard at Upernivik. For a moment the other two looked at him in amazement. Suddenly Arklio grabbed up an 18-foot dog whip and started cracking it in all directions, Screaming like a demon. Next Nucartingwah flung his arms into the air and in a series of terrific monkey jumps hid behind some bergs.” Reflexes like these do not make for con- viviality. Nothing could be simpler than the Eskimos® bill of fare. It consists of seal, walrus, white whale, narwhal, bear, fox, Arctic hare, birds and eggs from the robberies, and in the old days, reindeer and an occasional musk ox. Nature is considerate to them in one respect, Their sole occupation consisting in the ac- cumulation of food and clothing, very often they are able to lay in a supply of both simule taneously. When a man spears a polar bear he not only brings home his dinner, but a pair of trousers as well. Every time h: goes out to shoot the baby a new sealskin shirt he brings home a beef stew, in a manner of speak- ing. So there are compensations. As we were anchored in Cape York Bay, we considered some hunting on our own ac- count.® Some black spots in the distance were pointed out to us as seals. “Not a bad chance tor a fellow to sneak up and shoot himself a vest or pair of trousers,” we suggested. “Boy,” said the skipper not unkindly, “I've got a thousand dollars in the bank, and that's all T've got, but I'm willing to bet the lot you can’t get within a quarter of a mile of a seal by stalking it over the ice. Those seals are balanced on the edge of .their blow holes so dccurately they can dive under the ice quicker than the eye can follow them. Their entire lives are spent escaping enemies. They sleep with their ears open. They're set like a hair trigger—ready to go off at a moment’s notice. They can hear your heart beat at 200 yards,” and without waiting for an answer he dis- appeared into the after-cabin for a few hours well earned rest. By now we were fairly interested, and we got an Eskimo named Terwhilliger to steer us. With no enthusiasm whatever we followed him out over the ice. The ice was exceedingly rotten and half submerged under puddles and miniature lakes, while at artistic intervals it was bisected by open leads over which it was impossible to jump. In such cases one went round or found a spot narrow enough to be overcome by an acrobatic leap. It only took a hundred yards of this traveling to convince us that if it’s hard to imitate a gazelle on dry land, on rotten ice it’s next to impossible. The Eskimo carried a harpoon, the detache able tip of which was fastened to the end of Continued on Twenty-second Page