THE COLONY OF PRÖVEN.— THE KAYAK OF THE GREENLANDER.—SCARCITY OF DOGS.—LIBERALITY OF THE CHIEF TRADER.—ARCTIC FLORA.
We were escorted into the harbor of Pröven by the strangest fleet of boats and the strangest-looking boatmen that ever convoyed a ship. They were the far-famed kayakers of Greenland, and they deserve a passing notice.
The kayak of the Greenlander is the frailest specimen of marine architecture that ever carried human freight. It is eighteen feet long and as many inches wide at its middle, and tapers, with an upward curving line, to a point at either end. The skeleton of the boat is made of light wood; the covering is of tanned seal-skin, sewed together by the native women with sinew thread, and with a strength and dexterity quite astonishing. Not a drop of water finds its way through their seams, and the skin itself is perfectly water-proof. The boat is about nine inches deep, and the top is covered like the bottom. There is no opening into it except a round hole in the centre, which admits the hunter as far as his hips. This hole is surrounded with a wooden rim, over which the kayaker laces the lower edge of his water-tight jacket, and thus fastens himself in and keeps the water out. He propels himself with a single oar about six feet long, which terminates in a blade or paddle at either end. This instrument of locomotion is grasped in the
