294 AN ESQUIMAU FUNEKAL. 



stroyed my prestige as a Narkosak, and indeed it 

 would have done so completely had it not been for 

 the fortunate occurrence of an auroral display, during 

 which time Jensen, whom my journal mentions as " a 

 convenient and useful man," informed the Esquimaux 

 that the white man's medicine will not operate. And 

 thus was saved my reputation. She died at five o'clock 

 in the evening ; at six she was sewed up in a seal-skin 

 winding-sheet, and before it was yet cold the body 

 was carried on Hans's sledge to a neighboring gorge 

 and there buried among the rocks and covered with 

 heavy stones. The only evidences of sorrow or regret 

 were manifested by her daughter, Merkut, the wife of 

 Hans, and these appeared to be dictated rather from 

 custom than affection. Merkut remained by the 

 grave after the others had departed, and for about an 

 hour she walked around and around it, muttering in a 

 low voice some praises of the deceased. At the head 

 of the grave she then placed the knife, needles, and 

 sinew which her mother had recently been using, and 

 the last sad rites to the departed savage were per- 

 formed. Tcheitchenguak came over and told me 

 that there was no longer anybody to keep his lamp 

 burning, and that his hut was cold, and with a very 

 sorrowful face he begged to be allowed to live with 

 Hans. My consent given, that of Hans was not 

 deemed necessary ; and so the snow-hut became de- 

 serted, and the cheerful family that had there dis- 

 pensed a rude hospitality was broken up ; and the 

 " house of feasting " had become a " house of mourn- 

 ing," and Tcheitchenguak had come away from it to 

 finish alone his little remaining span of life. Old and 

 worn down by a hard struggle for existence, he was 

 now dependent upon a generation which cared little 



