262 AN ARCTIC MICAWBER. 



Our savage guests remained with us a few clays, 

 and then set out for their homes, declaring their in- 

 tention to come speedily back and bring more of 

 the tribe and dogs. I drove out with them a few 

 miles, and we parted on the ice. When about a mile 

 away, I observed Myouk jump from the sledge to 

 pick up something which he had dropped. No doubt 

 rejoiced to be rid of this extra load on his rickety 

 sledge, Tattarat whipped up his team, and the last I 

 saw of poor Myouk he was running on, struggling 

 manfully to catch up ; but, notwithstanding all his 

 efforts, he was falling behind, and it is not unlikely 

 that he was suffered to walk all the way to Iteplik. 



This Myouk was the same droll creature that he 

 was when I knew him formerly, — a sort of Arctic 

 Micawber, everlastingly waiting for something to turn 

 up which never did turn up ; and, with much cheer- 

 fulness, hoping for good luck which never came. He 

 recited to me all of his hardships and misfortunes. 

 His sledge was all broken to pieces, and he could not 

 mend it ; his dogs were all dead except the one he 

 sold to me ; he had stuck his harpoon into a walrus, 

 and the line had parted, and the walrus carried it 

 away ; he had lost his lance, and altogether his affairs 

 were in a very lamentable state. His family were in 

 great distress, as he could not catch any thing for 

 them to eat, and so they had gone to Tattarat's hut. 

 Tattarat was a poor hunter, and he made a terrible 

 grimace, which told how great was his contempt for 

 that doughty individual. So now he proposed, as soon 

 as he got home, to try Kalutunah. To be sure, Kalu- 

 tunah's establishment was pretty well filled already, 

 there being not less than three families quartered 

 there ; but still, he thought there was room for one 



