1 84 TWO DIANAS IN ALASKA 



there," waving to a distant settlement; but once 

 this had been her home. Some one else, apparently, 

 had lived here with her, some one she loved. The 

 Some one was drowned, for we had the drama acted 

 in silent pantomime before us. The throwing the 

 spear, the first success, then the bidarka ripping open 

 on a treacherous rock, the sudden immersion, the 

 swimming, and then the end. It was all very 

 marvellous, and most weird and heart-stirring to 

 see. 



Our new acquaintance pitifully laid the gooHs and 

 chattels of the drowned before us, bringing them out 

 from a secure hiding-place in the roof. With some 

 surprise we realized that the Some one must have been 

 a white man, a trapper or prospector perhaps, " gone 

 native," as is sometimes the case. The Innuit 

 woman probably recognized that she stood face to 

 face with others of her man's race. 



The relics were very few a pipe, an old silver 

 watch, a very pre-historic Winchester repeater, and 

 two photographs, of the variety to be found in every 

 old album a lady with a chignon, a man with a 

 wealth of white tie and murky apparel. They were 

 tied together in a much-worn, much-read newspaper 

 of ancient date. I looked at this five-year-old breath 

 from the outer world, and found that the torn sheet 

 emanated from Birmingham, and it recorded, in faded 

 ink, a great speech made by Mr. Chamberlain. On 

 the margin of the paper, written in pencil, in an 

 educated hand, we made out, after some difficulty, 

 the words 



