92 VIKINGS OF TO-DAY 



but an oily rag over the wounds. As we went into 

 his hut he held up the raw stumps piteously, from 

 which, in each case, some inches of bare bone 

 protruded. What could be done was done to relieve 

 his agony, but the poor fellow died of exhaustion 

 after an operation on the stumps. The night we 

 were leaving that harbour it was dark and blowing 

 as I clambered out over the rocks, to signal for the 

 ship's boat about 10 p.m. There I found waiting 

 for me the poor man's wife, who, in a flood of tears, 

 gratefully wrung my hands, till I too felt a choking 

 sensation about the throat. There was something 

 so real in her sorrow, now left still more lonely on 

 that lonely coast. 



One day a silver-haired old fisherman came aboard 

 for advice. " All my three sons died this summer 

 from diphtheria, sir," he told me. " I buried them 

 all the same week. My eldest was nineteen, and he 

 lasted out the fever ; but he couldn't swallow, and I 

 did not know how to feed him." "What did you 

 do?" "Well, I tied a split herring round his throat 

 some say that is good but he starved to death 

 before my eyes. It is hard for us now to get along, 

 with no one to help me tend the nets. You see I'm 

 not so young now as I was." 



One poor woman, with a tumour of the leg, one 

 day sent for " the mission doctor." She couldn't 

 walk for it, she said, and life had become a burden. 

 We told her, " An operation will make you quite 

 well, and we can put you to sleep while it is done." 



