36 BY ESKIMO DOG-SLED 



bed, kneading one of her husband s boots. 

 She looked up as we appeared, with a good- 

 humoured smile on her handsome, ruddy face, 

 and quietly went on with her kneading. Other 

 boots, turned inside out to dry, hung from the 

 poles above her head ; they were waiting to be 

 rubbed. That is one of the things that an 

 Eskimo hunter expects of his wife : she must 

 keep his boots soft. In he comes from his 

 latest chase after seals or walrus or bears : he 

 is wet and tired and sleepy : soon he is sprawl 

 ing on the platform bed, snoring great snores, 

 while his wife is turning his wet boots inside 

 out, to make them dry and supple for his next 

 expedition. A good Eskimo housewife always 

 takes a pride in her husband s boots. And 

 Bob s wife reached for another boot, and went 

 on with her kneading. 



Close beside her, on an upturned tub, stood 

 the seal-oil lamp. It was no more than a half- 

 moon-shaped trough, hollowed from a soft 

 stone, and half filled with thick brown seal-oil. 

 A flat wick of moss leaned on the edge of the 

 trough, dipping into the oil, and burning with 

 a steady flame. Mrs. Bob seemed to be doing 

 a little cookery, between whiles, over her primi 

 tive lamp. A battered meat -tin, a castaway, 

 no doubt, from the Mission ship, hung by a 

 string from one of the tent-poles, and twisted, 



