30 AN ESKIMO VILLAGE 



dog?" "No," said the missionary, "that is my 

 garden ; come and see it." I went, and I stood be- 

 side the little palings and looked upon the wizened 

 turnip-tops and the pale, anaemic rhubarb, and I 

 wondered at the faith of the man who could set 

 Nature such a task as to raise garden plants in 

 such a place as Chidley. "I could only scrape 

 together a very little earth," said the missionary, 

 "but if, when you get back to your village, you 

 could send me one or two barrels full of earth, I 

 think we could do better ! ' ' 



But this is a digression. Let us get back to the 

 four young men and their great adventure. 



