STORY OF AN OIL-STAINED BIBLE 6l 



the beauty of the scenery than with the fact that 

 Mugford is a famous place for codfish and seals ; and 

 the seals and the fish are the reason why some of 

 the families used to leave the village in the early 

 summer and spend the fishing season on the Mug- 

 ford shore. My little motor-boat puffed lustily 

 beside the rocky wall ; in a tiny bay on the shore 

 I could see the home of the campers. Children and 

 dogs were romping on the beach ; on the rocks that 

 shelved steeply to the water lay the family's wash- 

 ing, drying in the sunshine ; and as we slid gently to 

 our anchorage we could see a woman lighting a fire 

 outside the house and setting a kettle of water to 

 boil. 



Old Friedrik came down to the beach to meet us ; 

 a fine type of the Northern Eskimo, sturdy and 

 squat, with a great mane of shaggy grey hair and 

 a pair of keen brown eyes. He chatted of his fishing 

 and of the seals he had seen, and it was plain to me 

 that his hand had not yet begun to fail nor his endur- 

 ance to slacken. We sat upon the rocks, drinking 

 the warm sweet tea that the Eskimos love, and 

 munching bread and meat. The old man was at 

 my elbow, voicing fervent " nakomeks " (thanks) 

 between the mouthfuls. When all had eaten, and 

 each with a mutter of thanks had set his cup aside, 

 I said to old Friedrik : "If you will bring me a Bible 

 I will read to you all." " Illale " (By all means), 

 said he, and rose to fetch his Bible. He shouted a 

 command that brought the people thronging closer, 

 then he stooped and passed through the porch into 

 the house, and soon came back carrying a book. It 



