THE GOOSING 233 



But he can toss the drift-wood log, 

 Throw the dizha, take the deer — 

 Take and hold the largest deer — 

 Can Mein Neydbo. Is he strong ? 



He is strong- 



6' 



Where is the wife for Mein Neydbo ? 

 JVya, the maid, for the man Nyanltz ? 

 She must be all that his mother was, 

 Deft with the needle, skilled in yud; 

 Too — the fire, yud — the pot, 

 Yi — the water — these are hers. 

 Obah — the glove, can she make it well ? 

 Nier-pi — the seal, can she dress the hide ? 



Yes, there is one ; she is come — she is here. 



Lay me down on the tundra now — 



Old and worn, old and worn — - 



Leave me alone on the moss to die. 



The broken sleigh, and the spoon I used, 



Carry them up to the Holy Hill, 



And speak as I speak : ' Oh Num, Great Num, 



He lies on the moss quite straight, quite still, 



Who once was wise and strong. 



Many a time has he vexed thee, Num — 



Yet now, Great Num, forbear — let him rest. 



See, it is true, the spoon, the sleigh ! 



They were his — they are thine — He is dead.' 



This would be sufficiently like it. And the tune ? 

 That was the worst part of it. Only after hearing* very 

 many of these songs could I at last come at any method 

 in the tunes. In general they were not unlike bagpipes, 

 returning often to a fundamental long-drawn note. 



They loved singing these songs ; you only had to say 

 • Huntz,' i.e. singing, to set them off at score. 



And then they would dance, singing an accompani- 



