OLOF KRARER. 



I WAS born in Greenland, on the east coast. I am 

 the youngest of eight children. My three sisters 

 and four brothers are all living in Iceland. My 

 father is living in Manitoba. My mother died in 

 Iceland when I was sixteen years old. 



We lived near the sea-shore in Greenland. Our 

 house was built of snow. It was round, perhaps 

 sixteen feet across, and coming to a point at the top. 

 It was lined with fur on all sides, and was carpeted 

 with a double thickness of fur. 



The way they lined the house was to take a skin 

 of some animal, and hold it near a fire, which was 

 in the centre of the room. When the skin was heat- 

 ed through, they took it and pressed it against the 

 wall. In a short time, it stuck to the wall so tightly 

 that it could not be pulled off without tearing the 

 skin. 



The door was a thick curtain of fur, hung over 

 the doorway, by heating the upper part, and letting 

 it stick fast to the wall. Outside of the door was a 

 long, narrow passageway, just high enough for one 

 of us little Esquimaux people to stand up straight 

 in. That would be about high enough for a child 



