28 Olof Krarcr. 



If I was to go back to my race of people, I would 

 not be able to tell them about what I see and hear 

 in this country. They have not the language to 

 express the thought. They have seen nothing like 

 a sewing machine, or a piano. They have no mate- 

 rials to enable them to make machines. They never 

 saw a painting or a drawing. Their wild, rude songs 

 is all they have that is anything like music. They 

 have no idea of a book. They eat when they're 

 hungry, and sleep when they're sleepy. They are 

 happy and contented ic'/icii tJicy doiit know any bet- 

 ter. 



The only relatives we knew about, were brothers 

 and sisters, father and mother, and our grandparents. 

 As for other relatives, such as uncles, aunts and 

 cousins, we knew nothing about them. We lived in 

 small settlements of thirty or forty families. No one 

 seemed to take any interest in finding out how many 

 settlements there were, or how many people lived in 

 them. We had only one name each, just as you 

 name animals in this country. My father's name 

 was Krauker. My name was Olwar. Before we left 

 Iceland, the whole family were baptized. They 

 named my father Salve Krarer, and they baptized 

 me Olof Krarer, making the Iceland names as near 

 like the Esquimaux names as they could, but giving 

 my father a new name, Salve, which means some- 

 thing like "saved." 



THE END. 



