The Moravians in Labrador | Page 4

tied by separate thongs, of unequal
lengths, to a horizontal bar on the forepart of the sledge; an old
knowing one leads the way, running ten to twenty paces a head,
directed by the driver's whip, which is often twenty-four feet long, and
can only be properly wielded by an experienced Esquimaux; the other
dogs follow like a flock of sheep, and if one receives a lash, he bites his
neighbour, and the bite goes round. Their strength, and speed, even
with an hungry stomach, is astonishing; and to this they are often
subjected, especially by the heathen, who treat them with little mercy,
and force them to perform hard duty for the small quantity of food they
allow them. Their portion upon a journey consists chiefly in offals, old
skins, entrails, rotten whale flesh, or fins, or whatever else the
Esquimaux himself cannot use; if these run out, or if the master, whose
stomach is not of the most delicate contexture, requires his dogs' meat,
then the poor creatures must go and seek for themselves, in which case
they will swallow almost any thing, so that it is always necessary to
secure the harness over night, if the traveller wishes to proceed in the
morning. The teams vary from three to nine dogs, and this last number
have been known to drag a weight of more than sixteen hundred
pounds, a mile in nine minutes.
Like the Greenlanders the inhabitants of Labrador must draw their
subsistence and their wealth chiefly from the sea; but in this respect
their circumstances are less favourable than the former. Whales are
scarce, and the chief species they take is that denominated the white
fish, of little value in commerce. In pursuing them they have now
adopted the European boat in preference to their own, and those most
frequently employed are six oared, rowed by twelve men. The
harpooner stands in the bow with his harpoon, or iron spear, which is
stuck on a shaft one or two fathoms long, and is provided with a
leathern thong of considerable length, to which are attached from five
to ten bladders of seal skin. If the whale be struck he immediately dives
to the bottom of the sea, where he remains till he is quite exhausted,
when he again comes to the surface of the water to breathe; in the

meanwhile the boat's crew observe all its motions, and are in readiness
with their lances to complete the business, during which, the person
who first struck the fish, falls down on his face in the fore part of the
boat, and prays that Torngak would strengthen the thongs that they may
not break; another of the crew allows his feet to be bound, as a symbol
of what he desires, then attempting to walk, falls down and exclaims,
"Let him be lame!" and a third, if he observes that the whale is dying,
calls out, "Now Torngak is there, and will help us to kill the fish, and
we shall eat his flesh, and fare sumptuously, and be happy!" But if the
whale appears likely to escape, the first continues lying on his face
crying out with vehemence, "Hear yet, and help us!" If the whale get
off, some of their conjurors inform them that Torngak was not there, or
he did not hear, or he was otherwise employed! Seals are more
abundant, and are the chief dependance of the natives, their flesh
serving for food, their skins for clothes and covering to their tents and
boats, and their blubber for oil or for exchange. Catching the seal was
formerly a tedious and laborious process, but now they are generally
taken in nets, which the natives have adopted from the Europeans.
Salmon and salmon-trout are caught in every creek and inlet; they
remain in the rivers and fresh-water lakes during the winter, and return
to the sea in spring. The Esquimaux about Okkak and Saeglak, catch
them in winter under the ice by spearing. For this purpose they make
two holes in the ice, about eight inches in diameter, and six feet
asunder, in a direction from north to south. The northern hole they
screen from the sun by a bank of snow about four feet in height, raised
in a semi-circle round its southern edge, and form another similar bank
on the north side of the southern hole, sloped in such a manner as to
reflect the rays of the sun into it. The Esquimaux then lies down, with
his face close to the northern aperture, beneath which the water is
strongly illuminated by the sunbeams entering at the southern. In his
left hand he holds a red string, with which he plays in the water to
allure the fish, and in his right, a spear