Viewing page 511 of 661
This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.
1861 Oct 20 + [[Sunday]] But stop! Is not the hand of God in this? Is all this [[underlined]] luck? [[/underlined]] No! So the last question I answer. The Wisdom of Him who sees all & doeth as He willeth - in Heaven & on the Earth is above all the [[?compresension]] of Mortals. Then poor heart of mine, [[underlined]] feel [[/underlined]] to cry: 'Not my Will, but Thine O. God be done'. The natives (men Innuits) are busily engaged in taking off "Black Skin" from the Blubber for our special eating this Winter. They have volunteered to do this which is indeed a noble quality in them. Now three P.M. - The weather [[underlined]] Fine. [[/underlined]] Ther. 18°, No wind. Capt. B. is now having "Black skin" packed in Casks. What would our friends at Home think if they knew of our condition? What anxious hearts there will be this Winter & next Spring in New London & Groton Ct. & other places where the men of the "George Henry" belong at the non appearance of this vessel. As for my loved ones & my friends, they know not but I am on my way to "King William's Land" - or [[underlined]] there. [[/underlined]] Of course, they think not of my wrecked craft - & of my purpose to return this year with Capt. B. if his vessel had not become fixed - [[underlined]] ice-chained [[/underlined]] in this Bay. God be with us through the trying scenes that we must encounter during this long, dreary Winter! We, of the "George Henry" must soon bid her adieu for months to come, dividing ourselves out among the natives. The fuel is nearly out, only 4 tons remaining as I understood Capt. B. to say a few moments ago. As there remains no possibility of escape from our present sad condition - as we must remain here at least 9 months before we can expect the vessel to be free - wishing [[end page]] [[start page]] 1861 Oct 20th + [[Sunday]] to keep a journal of our daily experiences - my paper becoming nearly exhausted - I now begin to multiply lines upon such page as I proceede. How greatly have we been blessed by capturing the last Whale! It ensures us with a vast amount of provision that will serve to keep starvation at bay. Beside the "Black Skin" wh. we now have the carcass remains fixed in the ice along side - & will probably so remain all Winter. Whatever term a whale that has been dead for 3 or 4 days & become bloated with gases, [[underlined]] "blasted". [[/underlined]] Such is now the condition of the one along side. Yet the meat of this wh. now [[underlined]] stinks frozen [[/underlined]] may yet be partaken by us with thankful hearts before the Winter is over. [[underlined]] A Hungry Man [[/underlined]] will eat any thing that will answer to his cravings & do it with a heart overflowing with thankfulness to his Maker. Never, no - [[underlined]] never in my life, [[/underlined]] did I appreciate [[underlined]] more feelingly & [[/underlined]] fully the beauty & Godliness of that portion of the Lord's prayer wherein is the petition: [[underlined]] 'Give us this day our daily bread', [[/underlined]] than last winter at Ookoodlear living among the Innuits & eating my [[underlined]] daily ration [[/underlined]] which consisted of only a piece from raw [[underlined]] "Black Skin" [[/underlined]] 2 inches by 1 1/2 weighing perhaps 3 ounces! At hVI-m00 P.M. sky still clear, wind [[underlined]] very [[/underlined]] light N.W. Ther. 12°. If this weather holds cold as & with so light winds last 3 days, the ice will be firmly set all over the Bay. Indeed no open water is now visible from the ship's deck. Whether so or not from Mast head cannot say. In the morning will have this determined. Should a gale at once visit us, the present ice in the Bay might perhaps give way to it. On the day of towing up the whale, there were strong signs of change of weather. Capt. B. called my attention to those signs from wh. he deduced expectation that on the next day we should have a strong wind or storm. The officers & weather observing Innuits predicted from same indications that a storm would soon succeede. But the signs have failed. Almost dead calm - & [[underlined]] Fine [[/underlined]] weather now day after day. Capt. B. certainly feels a heavy load on his shoulders. While I am writing, he is walking to & fro in the Main Cabin, anon drawing long sighs showing that he is absorbed in profound thoughts, of the momentous & unexpected condition of his ship & those under his command. Deliver me from the responsibility that he feels resting upon him. If it were not for others he would suffer less, but as it is, his heart is big with painful solicitude to do almost
