The Six Missing Skulls: A Greenland Ghost Story

Robert Peary

If there’s one thing wading into Fortean waters has taught me, it’s this:  Don’t play silly buggers with corpses.  The former occupants of those remains generally have a way of expressing their disapproval.  A perfect illustration is this story which appeared in the “London Daily Graphic” in October of 1898:

A member of the Peary expedition writes: While reading the "Dally Graphic" review of Lieutenant Peary's recent book it occurred to me that a curious experience resulting from sundry raids made on Greenland burying-grounds in the scientific pursuit of Esquimaux skulls and skeletons may be of present interest, I confess that my story has a distinctly Rougemont flavor, but its accuracy is vouched for by the scientists of the party. We know it really happened. We leave the explanation to the Psychical Research society.

The Greenland section of the Peary expedition was partly subsidized by several scientific societies on the understanding that skulls and skeletons and geological specimens should be secured for their various museums. Six Esquimau skeletons were promised to the Chicago World's Fair authorities in return for a grant toward the Peary expedition. Esquimau skeletons are rare, especially of those types known as the "Arctic Highlanders," and it was a question of honor that the scientific branch of the expedition should not return without some of these coveted specimens. Now, the Esquimaus are a superstitious people, and hold a tradition that if a body belonging to one of their race be taken to a country where no walruses, seals or bears exist, and where grass is plentiful, the bones of such a transported Esquimau are chewed up by snakes, and the spirit perishes beyond redemption. Consequently our endeavors to obtain skulls and skeletons by legitimate purchase failed utterly, though I must say in defence of our skeleton-snatching action that we offered large prices and tempting prizes for their barter.

When the Kite landed at Ittiblu the scientists went ashore on a skeleton-hunting quest, and, finding no bone market open to bribes or sales, determined to make a raid on the two-century-old burying-ground, which contained several hundred graves. The Esquimaus built a dome-like erection above their graves, the stones being so arranged as to cover the corpse without coming in contract with it. Snow falling between the crevices of the stones causes a firm kind of cement, so that the opening of such a grave is no easy task. We settled on the likeliest-looking grave, and, intending to return at midnight, went back to the ship. The natives, however, were so excited by our arrival that they resolved to make a festive night of it.

Perpetual twilight made it impossible to cover our scientific deed with the shades of night. One of the Kite's officers, however, undertook to keep the natives otherwise occupied while we pursued our disagreeable duty of skeleton-snatching. He therefore took up his position in a large tent and busied himself in displaying the mighty wonders of New York jackknives and the marvels of American-made needles, the latter being highly coveted, and forming perhaps the only prize which might tempt an Esquimau to dishonesty. With such wonders to disclose, their attention was duly engaged for several hours, while the scientists employed themselves in procuring an admirable type of mummified Esquimau, a chief buried some two years previously, whom we found clad In a complete sealskin suit. Wrapping the body in an ulster, we carried it down to the whaleboat, conveyed it on board the Kite, and put it in a canvas gunbag, which we promptly sealed. We had arranged that the affair was to be concealed from the crew, since, had they known of the circumstance, one and all would have refused to sail with so ghastly a burden aboard. Our plans fell out so well that even the captain of the Kite was for some time unaware of the presence on board of what one ethnologist called "a grand specimen." At Herbert Island we collected two skulls, each "find" being duly sealed in a canvas bag, and at several landing points we added to the skeletons in our bags, winding up at Godhaven, where thirteen fine skulls and several bones was converted into a regular grave-yard, but each specimen was separately bagged, securely sealed and the cabin carefully locked. After the shipping of thirteen skulls we encountered terrible weather. The crew meanwhile had their suspicions as to "uncanny" influences aboard, and formed a deputation to the captain to assure him that there would be no luck about the ship till "something" was thrown overboard. The men at the wheel declared in turn that while in the act of steering some stronger hand than theirs was constantly turning the ship shoreward. One veteran helmsman ran us into a sandbank.

He said he "couldn't help it; 'somebody' seized the wheel and ran the ship aground." The superstitious sailors were firmly persuaded that ghostly "Huskies,” as they call the Esquimaus, were piloting the ship landward to induce us to give up their chief's body for decent burial. One morning at breakfast an officer told a strange yarn. He said he was on watch during the night when he noticed a kyak paddled by an Esquimau alongside the vessel. It was bad weather, and he knew it must be a ghostly kyak, for no such craft could have been out fifty miles from the land on such a night. Added to which he stated that the kyaker had no difficulty in keeping up with the ship.

The Esquimau hailed the watch and kept waving and beckoning with mysterious gestures and a threatening tone in his exclamations. Suddenly he vanished, to reappear alongside a few minutes later, hailing the ship, with a mournful wail. The sky was lit up by the vivid northern lights, so the officer stated that he saw distinctly what subsequently took place.  Out of the hatchway came a procession of six Esquimaus walking noiselessly along the poop deck.

They passed through the bulwark, not over it, and vanished. The kyaker disappeared at the same time. The scientific party left the breakfast table and went to the locked graveyard bunk. The seals were unbroken, and were apparently the same that we had affixed.

The remaining bones and skulls, with the chief's skeleton, are now the property of the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia. The six missing skulls have never been heard of. Most of the crew refused to go another voyage in the Kite, which they declared to be haunted by "Huskies" in search of their desecrated bones. I give you the story just as it occurred.  We cannot explain it. If the crew had conspired to steal the bones to "lay" the "Husky" ghosts, why did they take only six skulls, and how did they manage not to disturb the seals? The abstraction of the skulls made no difference--so the sailors declared--to the "Husky" apparitions with which they said the ship was constantly haunted.