The Seven Little Sisters Who Live on the Round Ball That Floats in the Air, Page 4

  AGOONACK, THE ESQUIMAU SISTER.

  What is this odd-looking mound of stone? It looks like the great brickoven that used to be in our old kitchen, where, when I was a littlegirl, I saw the fine large loaves of bread and the pies and puddingspushed carefully in with a long, flat shovel, or drawn out with thesame when the heat had browned them nicely.

  Is this an oven standing out here alone in the snow?

  You will laugh when I tell you that it is not an oven, but a house;and here lives little Agoonack.

  Do you see that low opening, close to the ground? That is the door;but one must creep on hands and knees to enter. There is anothersmaller hole above the door: it is the window. It has no glass, asours do; only a thin covering of something which Agoonack's fathertook from the inside of a seal, and her mother stretched over thewindow-hole, to keep out the cold and to let in a little light.

  Here lives our little girl; not as the brown baby does, among thetrees and the flowers, but far up in the cold countries amid snow andice.

  If we look off now, over the ice, we shall see a funny little clumsything, running along as fast as its short, stout legs will permit,trying to keep up with its mother. You will hardly know it to be alittle girl, but might rather call it a white bear's cub, it is sooddly dressed in the white, shaggy coat of the bear which its fatherkilled last month. But this is really Agoonack; you can see her round,fat, greasy little face, if you throw back the white jumper-hood whichcovers her head. Shall I tell you what clothes she wears?

  Not at all like yours, you will say; but, when one lives in coldcountries, one must dress accordingly.

  First, she has socks, soft and warm, but not knit of the white yarnwith which mamma knits yours. Her mamma has sewed them from the skinsof birds, with the soft down upon them to keep the small brown feetvery warm. Over these come her moccasins of sealskin.

  If you have been on the seashore, perhaps you know the seals thatare sometimes seen swimming in the sea, holding up their brown heads,which look much like dogs' heads, wet and dripping.

  The seals love best to live in the seas of the cold countries: herethey are, huddled together on the sloping rocky shores, or swimmingabout under the ice, thousands and thousands of silver-gray coatedcreatures, gentle seal-mothers and brave fathers with all their prettyseal-babies. And here the Esquimaux (for that is the name by whichwe call these people of the cold countries) hunt them, eat them fordinner, and make warm clothes of their skins. So, as I told you,Agoonack has sealskin boots.

  Next she wears leggings, or trousers, of white bear-skin, very roughand shaggy, and a little jacket or frock, called a jumper, of thesame. This jumper has a hood, made like the little red riding-hoodswhich I dare say you have all seen. Pull the hood up over the short,black hair, letting it almost hide the fat, round face, and you haveAgoonack dressed.

  Is this her best dress, do you think?

  Certainly it is her best, because she has no other, and when she goesinto the house--but I think I won't tell you that yet, for there issomething more to be seen outside.

  Agoonack and her mother are coming home to dinner, but there is no sunshining on the snow to make it sparkle. It is dark like night, andthe stars shine clear and steady like silver lamps in the sky, but faroff, between the great icy peaks, strange lights are dancing, shootinglong rosy flames far into the sky, or marching in troops as if eachlight had a life of its own, and all were marching together along thedark, quiet sky. Now they move slowly and solemnly, with no noise,and in regular, steady file; then they rush all together, flame intogolden and rosy streamers, and mount far above the cold, icy mountainpeaks that glitter in their light; we hear a sharp sound like Dsah!Dsah! and the ice glows with the warm color, and the splendor shineson the little white-hooded girl as she trots beside her mother.

  It is far more beautiful than the fireworks on Fourth of July.Sometimes we see a little of it here, and we say there are northernlights, and we sit at the window watching all the evening to see themmarch and turn and flash; but in the cold countries they are far morebrilliant than any we have seen.

  It is Agoonack's birthday, and there is a present for her before thedoor of the house. I will make you a picture of it. "It is a sled,"you exclaim. Yes, a sled; but quite unlike yours. In the faraway coldcountries no trees grow; so her father had no wood, and he took thebones of the walrus and the whale, bound them together with strips ofsealskin, and he has built this pretty sled for his little daughter'sbirthday.

  It has a back to lean against and hold by, for the child will go oversome very rough places, and might easily fall from it. And then, yousee, if she fell, it would be no easy matter to jump up again andclimb back to her seat, for the little sled would have run away fromher before she should have time to pick herself up. How could it run?Yes, that is the wonderful thing about it. When her father made thesled he said to himself, "By the time this is finished, the two littlebrown dogs will be old enough to draw it, and Agoonack shall havethem; for she is a princess, the daughter of a great chief."

  Now you can see that, with two such brisk little dogs as the brownpuppies harnessed to the sled, Agoonack must keep her seat firmly,that she may not roll over into the snow and let the dogs run awaywith it.

  You can imagine what gay frolics she has with her brother who runs ather side, or how she laughs and shouts to see him drive his bone ballwith his bone bat or hockey, skimming it over the crusty snow.

  Now we will creep into the low house with the child and her mother,and see how they live.

  Outside it is very cold, colder than you have ever known it to be inthe coldest winter's day; but inside it is warm, even very hot.And the first thing Agoonack and her mother do is to take off theirclothes, for here it is as warm as the place where the brown babylives, who needs no clothes.

  It isn't the sunshine that makes it warm, for you remember I told youit was as dark as night. There is no furnace in the cellar; indeed,there is no cellar, neither is there a stove. But all this heat comesfrom a sort of lamp, with long wicks of moss and plenty of walrus fatto burn. It warms the small house, which has but one room, and over itthe mother hangs a shallow dish in which she cooks soup; but most ofthe meat is eaten raw, cut into long strips, and eaten much as onemight eat a stick of candy.

  They have no bread, no crackers, no apples nor potatoes; nothing butmeat, and sometimes the milk of the reindeer, for there are no cows inthe far, cold northern countries. But the reindeer gives them a greatdeal: he is their horse as well as their cow; his skin and his flesh,his bones and horns, are useful when he is dead, and while he lives heis their kind, gentle, and patient friend.

  There is some one else in the hut when Agoonack comes home,--a littledark ball, rolled up on one corner of the stone platform which isbuilt all around three sides of the house, serving for seats, beds,and table. This rolled-up ball unrolls itself, tumbles off the seat,and runs to meet them. It is Sipsu, the baby brother of Agoonack,--around little boy, who rides sometimes, when the weather is not toocold, in the hood of his mother's jumper, hanging at her back, andpeering out from his warm nestling-place over the long icy plain towatch for his father's return from the bear-hunt.

  When the men come home dragging the great Nannook, as they call thebear, there is a merry feast. They crowd together in the hut, bringingin a great block of snow, which they put over the lamp-fire to meltinto water; and then they cut long strips of bear's meat, and laughand eat and sing, as they tell the long story of the hunt of Nannook,and the seals they have seen, and the foot-tracks of the reindeer theyhave met in the long valley.

  Perhaps the day will come when pale, tired travellers will come totheir sheltering home, and tell them wonderful stories, and sharetheir warmth for a while, till they can gain strength to go on theirjourney again.

  Perhaps while they are so merry there all together, a very greatsnowstorm will come and cover the little house, so that they cannotget out for several days. When the storm ends, they dig out the lowdoorway, and creep again into the starlight
, and Agoonack slips intoher warm clothes and runs out for Jack Frost to kiss her cheeks, andleave roses wherever his lips touch. If it is very cold indeed, shemust stay in, or Jack Frost will give her no roses, but a cold, frostybite.

  This is the way Agoonack lives through the long darkness. But I haveto tell you more of her in another chapter, and you will find it isnot always dark in the cold northern countries.