116 THE WHALEMAN ; OR, 



our arctic quarters. These, however, were suffi- 

 cient to bring most distinctly and vividly to our 

 minds a painful episode in our ocean life. 



The clothing with which we were furnished by 

 the natives, and without which we must have 

 perished, was composed of skins and furs. We 

 dressed as the natives did. An observer could 

 have seen no difference in this respect between us 

 and them. Our shoes, pants, and a kind of jack- 

 et, and caps, were wholly of skins, with the hair in- 

 side, and then over these another dress, with the 

 hair outside. Thus clothed, we were protected 

 from the keen, piercing air — a protection secured 

 to us which no other substitute could provide. 



About the 1st of January, in the depth of win- 

 ter, we began to perceive that nearly all the pro- 

 visions we obtained from the wreck were about 

 gone. The natives had shared with us in the 

 several huts to a considerable extent in consum- 

 ing what belonged to us. They were very fond 

 of our flour, molasses, and bread. They wanted 

 to eat what we ate, and when they could not get 

 it by fair play, they w 7 ould indulge in their nat- 

 ural propensity, and steal it. 



What we greatly feared was now coming upon 

 us. A new chapter in our history began to open. 

 The food of the natives must henceforth be for 

 our support. To their credit, however, be it said, 



