1913J ETAH S3 



200 miles away to see the white strangers and their 

 wonderful house at Etah. Our home was overcrowded 

 with the bodies of sixty Eskimos, sleeping in our attic, 

 in the carpenter's shop, in the dark-room, under our 

 beds, and under the floor. Two hundred loose dogs 

 prowled about the grounds. There was very little dog 

 food in the settlement, and our visitors remained until 

 their dogs were so weak that they could hardly pull 

 them toward their southern homes. They wanted to 

 see all, and to hear all, and our boys entertained them in 

 every conceivable way. 



Ekblaw never tired of amusing them, seated about 

 our big kitchen table, with games of the homeland. 

 Tanquary sang to them in his deep bass voice to the 

 accompaniment of his guitar. Jot Small had a partially 

 bald head, a wrinkled face, long red whiskers, and a most 

 extraordinary knowledge of the Eskimo language, which, 

 when accompanied by a vigorous waving of both arms, 

 brought forth gales of laughter. Hunt was the Ange- 

 kok, the big-medicine man! He had bottles of wonder- 

 ful pills! He could sew up wounds with needle and 

 thread! He could put you to sleep and cut off fingers 

 and toes! And he could pull teeth so quickly that you 

 could hardly feel it! The big doctor had a warm place 

 in their hearts. But Allen was the man who made the 

 lights in the big dark-room, the man who put the very 

 devil in door-latches so you could not get in, and the 

 same thing in bowls of water! 



The days were shortening gradually, until finally 

 came October 24th, when the sun dropped below the 

 horizon. Former travelers have described in detail the 

 frightfulness of the Arctic night. They have failed to 

 tell of the indescribable beauty, the solemnity, which 



