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April 28, 2006
Taissumani: A Day in Arctic History
May 1, 1914 — Getting away with murder
KENN HARPER
CLICK IMAGE TO ENLARGE
Donald MacMillan, the U.S. explorer whose companion, Fitzhugh Green, got away with murder.
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Last week, I wrote about Donald MacMillan’s disappointment in discovering that Crocker Land, said by Peary to lie to the north of Axel Heiberg Island, was but a mirage. MacMillan’s expedition was a failure within its first year.
But MacMillan would remain in the Arctic for three more years. More disappointments would follow, and one tragedy.
Safely back on Axel Heiberg Island after chasing the mists that were Crocker Land, MacMillan felt a need to salvage something from his journey. He decided to travel to a cape on Ellesmere Island with Ittukusuk, to retrieve a record left there by Sverdrup. He instructed Fitzhugh Green to travel westward with Piugaattoq to further explore the coast of Axel Heiberg.
But Piugaattoq objected because a storm was brewing. Nevertheless, MacMillan ordered them to leave at once, and Piugaattoq reluctantly obeyed.
When the storm hit, Piugaatoq dug a shelter for the two men in a snow bank. Then a snowslide buried Green’s sled and killed his dogs. Desperately, Piugaattoq worked to keep a pocket of air open in the cavern he had hollowed out for himself and Green. The American was Green in more than name, but Piugaattoq persevered, and kept him alive.
When the storm abated, Piugaattoq announced that they must return to rendezvous with MacMillan. But Green, despite his inexperience, wanted to continue. The two men argued. A second storm forced them back into the close confines of their refuge.
Finally, Piugaattoq had had enough. He told Green that he was turning back. They had only one sled between them, and Piugaattoq forced Green to walk, knowing that the activity was necessary to keep his toes from freezing. Green complained that he could not keep up, but Piugaattoq maintained a steady pace.
Green may have felt that Piugaattoq was abandoning him. On the march, he snatched a rifle from the sled and brandished it in Piugaattoq’s direction, ordering the Inuk to follow behind him. When he turned a few minutes later, he saw a frightened Piugaattoq whipping the dogs frantically off in another direction.
Green reported what happened next in a matter-of-fact manner in his journal: “I shot once in the air. He did not stop. I then killed him with a shot through the shoulder and another through the head.”
Piugaattoq had been a trusted travel companion of Peary on all his polar expeditions. Knud Rasmussen described him as “a man whom one could trust” and “a comrade who in difficult or dangerous circumstances was ready to make personal sacrifices in order to help and support his companions.” Piugaattoq had tried to save Green’s life. Green had taken his.
On May 1, MacMillan recorded in his diary the death of Piugaattoq. Back in America in 1918, he published his story of the Crocker Land Expedition, and wrote dispassionately that “Green, inexperienced in the handling of Eskimos, and failing to understand their motives and temperament, had felt it necessary to shoot his companion.”
MacMillan and Green determined the keep the truth from the Inughuit. They told them instead a half-truth. There had been a snowslide, they said, and Piugaattoq had suffocated under it. But Ittukusuk knew the truth as soon as Green returned to MacMillan’s camp. He knew a little English, and he had heard the distraught Green blurt out his dismal tale to MacMillan. Ittukusuk told the other Inughuit the truth when they returned to Etah. The Inughuit decided not to let on that any of them knew.
Green’s actions defy logic. If a man felt he was being abandoned by his guide in unfamiliar and dangerous territory, why shoot the guide? That would simply lessen one’s chance of survival. The story makes no sense. Unless there was more to it.
Many of the Inughuit thought that, indeed, there was another reason. A quarter century ago, when I asked the elders in Qaanaaq why they thought Fitzhugh Green had killed Piugaattoq, they told me that the reason was simple — Green had wanted Piugaattoq’s wife, Aleqasina. She was a strikingly beautiful woman and had been Peary’s mistress until he abandoned her in 1909. Green, the Inughuit believed, desired her. No other reason could explain such an irrational act.
Although MacMillan wrote about it, the murder of Piugaattoq was never investigated. Fitzhugh Green was never punished.
Taissumani: A Day in Arctic History recounts a specific event of historic interest, whose anniversary is in the coming week. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com
April 21, 2006
Taissumani: A Day in Arctic History
April 23, 1914 — Crocker Land, an Arctic mirage
KENN HARPER
When Robert Peary claimed to have reached the North Pole in April 1909, it marked the end of his Arctic career. But for one young man who had accompanied him north, it was the first of many Arctic adventures. That man was Donald Baxter MacMillan. He would return to the far North in 1913, obsessed with finding a land that Peary claimed to have seen as early as 1906.
In July of that year, Peary was at Cape Thomas Hubbard on northern Axel Heiberg Island. He believed that he saw snow-capped mountains on the horizon to the northwest and convinced himself that he had discovered new land. He named it after one of his wealthy benefactors, George Crocker. Thus the belief in Crocker Land was begun.
Three years after his alleged attainment of the Pole, Peary still believed in his discovery. He wrote, “Crocker Land easily takes first rank among problems demanding exploration, now that the Poles have been reached and that the insularity of Greenland has been determined.”
The following year, his young acolyte, MacMillan, rose to the challenge. He organized the Crocker Land Expedition, a four-year affair sponsored by the American Museum of Natural History, the American Geographical Society and the University of Illinois.
From the base he established at Etah, near the point where Greenland and Ellesmere Island are at their closest, MacMillan and his parties explored northern Ellesmere Island, the coasts of Axel Heiberg Island, and as far west as King Christian and Ellef Ringnes islands.
But MacMillan had a problem that he had not anticipated. He had assumed that, because he had been with Peary and Henson, to whom the Inughuit had shown intense personal loyalty as a result of eighteen years of association, the Inughuit would automatically transfer their loyalty to him. He was mistaken. He could not command the authority of Peary. And, although he had brought quantities of trade goods with him, the Danes, Knud Rasmussen and Peter Freuchen, were now operating their Thule Station, a trading post at North Star Bay, so the Inughuit had an alternative reliable source of goods. The older, more experienced and influential Inughuit did not give MacMillan the deference and unquestioning loyalty he demanded. They questioned his judgment and his decisions. As a result, he fired many of them, deciding to make the difficult trip across Ellesmere Island and onto the ice of the Arctic Ocean with a mix of experienced and inexperienced travellers.
On March 10, 1914, MacMillan, two white men and six Inughuit left Etah in search of Crocker Land. The first and most difficult task was to mount the almost perpendicular face of the Beitstad Glacier on Ellesmere Island. With that accomplished, they sledged north to Cape Thomas Hubbard, the point on which Peary had stood eight years earlier when he surveyed the horizon and first caught sight of Crocker Land. By the time the party reached that point, five men had been sent back or had turned back. The party was down to four men: MacMillan; Fitzhugh Green, an American; Ittukusuk, who had travelled in these very parts with Dr. Frederick Cook in 1907-08; and Piugaattoq, a respected hunter and traveller who was married to the woman who had been Peary’s long-time lover.
The Inughuit were reluctant to travel out onto the sea ice north of Axel Heiberg. The season was late and there was much open water. But MacMillan badgered them into continuing, and in doing so endangered the lives of all of the party. Finally, on April 21, Fitzhugh Green sighted Crocker Land. “There it was as plain as day,” wrote MacMillan, “hills, valleys, and ice cap — a tremendous land extending through 150 degrees of the horizon.”
MacMillan was ecstatic. His name would be famous forever for confirming the existence of this new land to the north. He asked Piugaattoq for advice on the best route through the ice to reach the new land. To his astonishment, the Inuk replied that there was no land, only mist. After studying the horizon for some time more, MacMillan had to concede, “As we watched it more narrowly its appearance slowly changed from time to time so we were forced to the conclusion that it was a mirage of the sea ice.”
But the next day, the foolhardy MacMillan insisted on proceeding further. The Inughuit reluctantly agreed. The day after that, Fitzhugh Green calculated that the point on which they stood should be Crocker Land. As they were standing on sea ice with no land in sight, the conclusion was obvious — Crocker Land did not exist. MacMillan wrote, “My dreams of the last four years were merely dreams, my hopes had ended in bitter disappointment.”
MacMillan, as Peary before him, had been deceived by a mirage, a trick played on him by the atmospheric conditions of an Arctic spring and the vagaries of shifting sea ice. Crocker Land was nothing more than ice and snow, reflected and refracted through the lens of an Arctic mist.
Taissumani: A Day in Arctic History recounts a specific event of historic interest, whose anniversary is in the coming week. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
April 14, 2006
Taissumani: A Day in Arctic History
April 20, 1920 — a “threat” to Arctic sovereignty
KENN HARPER
With concerns about Canadian sovereignty so much in the news again, it is interesting to look at an early sovereignty scare — one involving Inuit — that turned out to be a misunderstanding.
In 1910, Knud Rasmussen and Peter Freuchen established their trading post, Thule Station, in northwestern Greenland. They knew that Robert Peary, on whom the Inughuit (the Inuit whom explorers generally called Polar Eskimos) had depended for trade goods, would not return to the district, and they hoped to fill the void left by his departure.
But although the Danish flag flew from the store, officials in Copenhagen did not acknowledge that the district was Danish territory. Then in 1916 the United States purchased the Danish West Indies (now the Virgin Islands) from Denmark and simultaneously announced that it would not oppose Denmark extending its political and economic interests to the whole of Greenland.
By 1919, the Canadian government was aware that Inughuit were in the habit of crossing Smith Sound to Ellesmere Island to hunt polar bear and musk-oxen. There was no reason why they shouldn’t — both sides of Smith Sound and Kane Basin were, after all, their traditional hunting territory. Knud Rasmussen, nominally the Danish representative in the region, did not object to the Inuit use of Ellesmere Island.
That same year the Canadian government set up the Reindeer and Musk-ox Commission to study the economic and biological potential of these two animals. Donald MacMillan, an Arctic explorer recently returned from his Crocker Land Expedition, appeared as a witness and informed the commission that every year Inughuit crossed to Ellesmere Island and killed a small number of musk-oxen. He ventured the opinion that “this is not likely to cause any serious depletion of the herd.” The commission was skeptical, noting that the Inughuit were acquiring firearms, which would allow them to kill more muskoxen than before.
In July 1919, the Canadian government sent a request, via the British Foreign Office, to the Danish government, formally asking it to prevent the Inughuit from killing musk-oxen on Ellesmere Island. Canada offered to place its own personnel on the Greenland side of Smith Sound to control the movements of the Inuit, a bizarre suggestion when one considers that there were no Canadians in Ellesmere Island on the other side of Smith Sound, which Canada claimed nonetheless to be Canadian! The Danish government responded that it did not administer the part of Greenland referred to, and sent the request on to Knud Rasmussen.
Rasmussen replied in March 1920. His reply, translated into English in Denmark, was completely misunderstood when it finally reached Ottawa. The letter stated that caribou had disappeared completely from north-western Greenland because of over-hunting by foreign expeditions, that the Inughuit had to seek furs in Ellesmere Island to use in their own homes for warmth and for winter travel, and that he did not trade in musk-ox skins for export. He wrote that he believed strongly in musk-ox conservation and would do whatever possible to comply with the Canadian request, noting that the Inughuit were independent people who, nonetheless, generally followed his advice.
But in Ottawa, officials focused on the following words in Rasmussen’s letter:
“It is well known that the territory of the Polar Esquimaux falls within the region designated as “No Man’s Land” and there is, therefore, no authority in the district except that which I exercise through my station… I venture to close with the observation that, in order to carry out the protective measures indicated in this statement, I shall need no assistance whatever from the Canadian government.”
On April 20, 1920, the Danish Government replied to Canada, agreeing with Rasmussen’s position: “Mr. Knud Rasmussen… comes to the conclusion that he will not need the assistance of the Canadian Government in order to carry out the protective measures indicated in his statement… My government thinks that they can subscribe to what Mr. Rasmussen says therein...”
Rasmussen’s reference to the territory of the Inughuit being a “No Man’s Land” was a reference to the fact that Denmark had not yet established any formal administration in northwestern Greenland. Rasmussen was the sole authority in the region. His reference to needing no help from the Canadian government in carrying out measures to conserve musk-oxen was simply a rejection of Canada’s suggestion that it station its own personnel in Greenland to control the travel of the Inughuit.
But Canada read this otherwise, and concluded that Rasmussen’s “No Man’s Land” referred to Ellesmere Island. In July 1920 an official advised his Deputy Minister: “…it would appear that neither Mr. Rasmussen nor the Danish Government seem to recognize that Canadian authority is dominant and exclusive in Ellesmere Land… There seems to be an inference that Denmark has some authority in the area in question.” The Canadian Government protested its understanding that the Danish government had implied that Ellesmere Island was a “No Man’s Land” — an implication that Denmark had not made. Wisely, the Danish government did not reply.
A postscript: Even today officials of the Canadian government periodically harass Inughuit who cross the treacherous ice of Kane Basin to hunt in their traditional hunting territories on eastern Ellesmere Island.
Taissumani: A Day in Arctic History recounts a specific event of historic interest, whose anniversary is in the coming week. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
April 7, 2006
Taissumani: A Day in Arctic History
April 8, 1921 - A murderer deputized
as RCMP Special Constable
KENN HARPER
CLICK
PHOTO TO ENLARGE
Igjugaarjuk
became an RCMP special constable in 1921, despite his participation years earlier
in a mass murder.
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In the summer of 1922,
the great explorer and ethnologist, Knud Rasmussen, a man of mixed Greenlandic
and Danish ancestry, was travelling in the interior of the Keewatin region on
the most famous of his Arctic travels, the Fifth Thule Expedition. Greenlandic
was his native tongue and Canadian Inuit called him Kunu.
In a small camp of only
three tents at the lake known as Hikoligjuaq, he found a man whom he had been
hoping to meet, a man about whom he had heard a great deal. This was Igjugaarjuk
- the name means "the little testicle" - a man held in high esteem
by his countrymen.
To prove his worth, Igjugaarjuk
immediately handed Kunu a document which bore the seal of the Canadian government,
issued to him by one Alfred E. Reames, an officer of the Royal Canadian Mounted
Police acting as Justice of the Peace. Reames had been at the same lake on April
8, 1921 on a manhunt for an Inuk suspected of murder, and had himself sought
the assistance of Igjugaarjuk. The document that he issued to Igjugaarjuk was
captioned "Appointment as Special Constable" and addressed "To
whom it may concern." It read as follows:
"This is to certify
that the bearer, one Ed-jo-a-juk, Padlermiut Escimo (sic), of Lake She-ko-lig-you-ak,
North West Territories, Canada, has this day been appointed by me... one of
His Majesty's Justices of the Peace, in and for the North West Territories,
for the purposes of apprehending and bringing to justice, one Ouangwak, Padlermiut
Escimo (sic), wanted on two charges of murder, and for whose arrest warrants
have been duly issued. The said Ed-jo-a-juk to have all the privileges, rights
and appertenances (sic) duly connected with the said office of Special Constable
in the Territories."
Reames had, in effect,
deputized Igjugaarjuk.
Kunu was immediately impressed
by this man. He described him as wise, independent and intelligent and thought
that he exercised a great deal of authority over his fellows. In a land where
there were far fewer women than men, as a result of female infanticide, he demonstrated
his might and authority by having two wives.
Kunu spent considerable
time at Igjugaarjuk's camp and collected a number of legends from him. On this
expedition, Kunu was to eventually travel as far as Siberia, meeting all the
groups of Inuit along his sled route. So it is high praise indeed when he describes
Igjugaarjuk in this manner: "...of all the people I have met on the long
stretch between Greenland and Siberia, he occupies an outstanding place among
all the prominent Eskimos."
But, despite Igjugaarjuk's
qualities of leadership, Kunu found it amazing that he was able to brandish
a paper naming him as a Special Constable of the RCMP. For what Kunu already
knew was that Igjugaarjuk himself was guilty of a mass murder.
Kunu tells the tale succinctly:
"As a young man Igjugaarjuk
had been in love with a woman named Kibgarjuk, but her family were opposed to
the match. When he heard later that they thought of giving her to another man,
he turned up unexpectedly one day, with his eldest brother, Harpik, at the entrance
to the snow house where Kibgarjuk lived, and from there shot down her father,
mother, two brothers with their respective wives and finally, when Kibgarjuk
had become alone, sprang in, carried her off and married her."
It is doubtful that the
policeman, Reames, knew anything of Igjugaarjuk's past. It is equally doubtful
that Igjugaarjuk put much energy into bringing the accused Ouangwak into custody.
Taissumani: A Day in Arctic History recounts a specific event of historic
interest, whose anniversary is in the coming week. Kenn Harper is a historian,
writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions
to kennharper@hotmail.com.
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