234 



HANS'S STORY. 



hunt and their families, and these are strong argu- 

 ments. Needles and knives, and iron and bits of 

 wood, will not feed wives and babies, and a hundred 

 and fifty miles is a long way to carry a child at the 

 breast through the cold and storms of the Arctic 

 night, even though it be to this haven of plenty. My 

 charity was, however, intended to cover a double pur- 

 pose, — to do them a substantial service, and to stim- 

 ulate as well their cupidity as that of the tribe who 

 are sure to flock around them at Iteplik, to inspect 

 their riches. I must own, however, that my pros- 

 pects for obtaining dogs do not look encouraging. 

 But few of the Esquimaux are likely to come so far 

 with their impoverished teams. 



Hans sticks to the story of yesterday ; and, after 

 questioning and cross-questioning him for an hour, I 

 get nothing new. Although I have no good reason 

 for doubting the truth of his narrative, yet I cannot 

 quite reconcile my mind to the fact that Sonntag, 

 with so much experience to govern him, should have 

 undertaken to travel five miles in wet clothing, espe- 

 cially as he was accompanied by a native hunter who 

 was familiar with all of the expedients for safety upon 

 the ice-fields, and to whom falling in the water is no 

 unusual circumstance. The sledge and the canvas 

 apron which inclosed the cargo furnished the means 

 for constructing a temporary shelter from the wind, 

 and the sleeping-bag would have insured against 

 freezing while Hans got ready the dry clothing, of 

 which Sonntag carried a complete change. Nor can 

 I understand how he should have lived so long and 

 have given Hans no message for me, nor have spoken 

 a word after coming out of the water, further than to 

 have ordered his driver to hasten back to the snow- 



