no AN ESKIMO VILLAGE 



Eskimos in my day, but the women are in church 

 all the same, sitting all on one side of the building, 

 and keenly interested, in their stolid sort of way, to 

 see who would be chosen. 



Now comes the voting. Every man writes four 

 names on his piece of paper. That is not quite so 

 simple as it sounds. First there is a great deal of 

 borrowing of pencils, with much sucking of the 

 same ; then not a little whispering, and a scratching 

 of tousled oily heads ; then the laborious writing, 

 every man spelling names as he thinks best ; then a 

 folding of the papers and the collecting of them in 

 a box. Always a little waiting while someone, slower 

 than the rest, pencils out his choice ; but at last the 

 votes are gathered up my task, that, the collect- 

 ing and the telling of the votes. 



The missionary solemnly unfolds each paper in 

 turn and reads the names written there a little 

 tittering when some unlikely fellow gets a vote, the 

 doing of his bosom chum, no doubt ; but on the 

 whole the election is serious. I noticed a singular 

 unanimity in the voting. Knowing the Eskimos as I 

 do, I am quite sure that the whole thing had been 

 well talked over for days beforehand ; next to the 

 hunting, the election would be the chief topic over 

 the pipes in the evening. 



The votes are counted and the election is over. 

 ' ' Will you serve to keep peace and order in this 

 village.'^" says the missionary, asking each man in 

 turn. " Ahaila " (Yes), says each of the four ; and 

 the people troop decorously home. 



But all this is a digression, for this chapter 



