114 AN ESKIMO VILLAGE 



"But you know the mind of the people, of all 

 the people of the village ?" 



" Illale " (But certainly), "yet I am going my 

 own way ; I will not cease my brewing." 



"Ah, young Martine, and where is your keg of 

 liquor ?" 



Martine sullenly pointed to a little black barrel 

 that stood in the corner by the stove. 



The four went in and solemnly took the keg ; 

 they rolled it to the door and set it upright on the 

 snow. The young man stood sheepishly watching. 

 Then the leader of the elders took young Martine 's 

 hatchet, where it stood beside the wood pile, and 

 with slow and heavy strokes he smashed the keg to 

 bits. Brown rivers trickled over the snow, and 

 soaked their way beneath the surface, a witness 

 until the next snowstorm should come and cover all 

 with white again. 



The elders pulled the hoods of their smocks over 

 their heads, and made ready to go. They laid the 

 hatchet in its place beside the wood pile. 



"Brew no more, Martine," they said. 



They solemnly turned and walked to their several 

 homes. The drink evil was abolished, and ours was 

 once more a teetotal village. 



