176 BY ESKIMO DOG-SLED 



hood, and marched from side to side of the 

 hut or among the houses of the village ; and, 

 if she does not know that she is watched, the 

 little girl will put on all the serious air of 

 motherhood, and sway her body to and fro, 

 hushing and humming to get her fractious 

 dolly to sleep. At night the child undresses 

 her doll, and lays it to rest on a scrap of deer- 

 skin spread on a toy bedstead of boards, and 

 covers it with a gay quilt, and leaves it to 

 sleep while she clambers into her own wooden 

 bed and pulls her own deerskin or patchwork 

 counterpane over her. It is the little girls' 

 chief game, this serious game of learning to 

 be grown up. 



The boys are playing the same game in 

 their own way, but it always seemed to me 

 that there is vastly more fun and frolic in a 

 boy's life. One of the most fascinating relaxa- 

 tions of our long winter was to watch the boys 

 at play. 



Every day we could hear their shouts as 

 they romped and tumbled in the snow. They 

 rolled huge snowballs, and hollowed them out 

 and hid in them ; they built proper little bee- 

 hive snow huts, and joined them by tunnels 

 under the snow ; and, more than anything 

 else, they sledded and slid down the hills. 

 There was a steep slope beside my window, 



