64 AN ESKIMO VILLAGE 



many seal-skins to make a kajak, and seals are 

 scarce. The hunter who has not a kajak must, per- 

 force, make use of a boat ; but a boat is heavy, it 

 is soon crusted with ice on those bitter November 

 days, and it is more than one man's strength can 

 do to haul any but the lightest boat up the beach 

 above the water-line after the day's hunting is done. 

 There is often danger on these autumn days ; there 

 are many hardships in the hunter's life, but the 

 Eskimo meets danger and hardship alike with his 

 characteristic smile. 



I met one of the cleverest of the men of our 

 village coming home from the hunt early in the day. 

 It was a fine day, and he had no seals, so I 

 wondered what the reason could be. He explained 

 very simply, and with the deliberate speech that is 

 so attractive. " The bay is frozen far out," he said, 

 "and the ice is thick. I left my kajak on the ice 

 yesterday, near the edge, because I would hunt 

 again to-day. And the storm and the wind that 

 came in the night have broken the ice, and my 

 kajak is gone." 



Yes, some of the men know what it is to wait 

 for seals at the edge of the ice, and to turn home- 

 wards and find that the ice has cracked away from 

 the shore and is bearing them out to sea. Then the 

 light and handy kajak saves them unless they are 

 separated from the piece of ice on which their kajak 

 lies, and it may be theirs to face the grim likelihood 

 of drifting away to the ocean, as has been the fate 

 of some. 



So it is that the Eskimo plies his dangerous 



