AND KAYAK 33 



owners have sought better places for their 

 tents ; they have had no fortune at the fishing, 

 and have gone to try elsewhere ; perhaps they 

 have passed away and are forgotten. 



I need hardly have asked Bob that question 

 about his tent blowing over, for I have seen the 

 same thing happen. I was passing along the 

 village one day, battling my way against a 

 howling wind, when suddenly the cover of a 

 tent close by began to flap loudly ; the gale 

 tore the edges from under the stones, and in 

 less time than it takes to tell the whole thing 

 collapsed. One moment it was a tent ; the 

 next, before my eyes, there was just a shape- 

 less heap of tent poles and wet calico, all in a 

 tangle, with strange writhings going on under- 

 neath. The writhings became more lively, 

 and presently three little Eskimo girls wriggled 

 out at different places, all very tousled, and all 

 looking very much surprised. They got up 

 and shook themselves and looked at one 

 another ; then they burst out laughing and 

 began to try to put their home upon its legs 

 again. I wondered what things were like 

 underneath the tent, for poles and calico were 

 all in a heap, and the things that had been on 

 the floor must have been in a fine pickle if I 

 was to judge by the way in which the ruins 

 lashed and rocked in the wind ; but the little 



