was a mile or more in length and several hun- 

 dred feet wide. In and about the borders of it 

 were many seals, several walruses, and a dead 

 whale, frozen in the ice. 



Naturally every hunter of this starving ham- 

 let desired to reach the crack with his harpoon 

 and gun as soon as possible. The first comers 

 were likely to fare best. Our big boys were ex- 

 pected to go, yet they sat waiting hungrily until 

 I gave them permission. Twenty-one of them 

 bowed most respectfully and walked out of the 

 room as orderly as soldiers ; but you should have 

 seen them run once they were outside ! 



The younger children sat listening eagerly to 

 every sound outside ; and finding their attention 

 so completely distracted, I closed school early 

 and let them all go. In fact, my wife and I 

 were greatly interested in the hunt, so much de- 

 pended on it. 



The weather was cloudy and the sky very 

 dark, with a rising, sighing wind. When I left 

 the schoolhouse all but the old women and young 

 children had gone away across the ice-fields. I 

 took my own gun and started to follow them. 

 The trail of the hunters was easily discernible in 

 the snow among the hummocks. 



I had gone no more than a mile when I met 

 my neighbor, Koogak, his wife and their two 

 boys coming back to the village, loaded down 

 with seal meat. Mrs. Koogak was carrying a 

 most incredible load. When she set the mass 

 down to rest, I attempted to lift it, but could not 



raise it from the ice — at which her broad mouth 

 expanded in a tremendous smile. In addition to 

 her load she was di-agging the carcass of a seal 

 after her by a thong. 



This family had among them no less than a 

 thousand pounds of seal meat, and their faces 

 were broad with smiles. When an Eskimo has 

 made a good hunt his cup of joy is full, and he 

 takes little thought for the future. "To-mor- 

 row is another day," he says. 



Koogak, thoughtful for my safety, urged me to 

 go back to the island, putting up his hand to 

 show me that the wind had changed and was 

 beginning to blow hard. When I started to go 

 on, he set down his load and followed me, still 

 insisting that I should return with them to the 

 land. 



The wisdom of Koogak's advice was soon ap- 

 parent. It perhaps saved my life. We had not 

 reached the island before the most frightful 

 noises issued from the ice all about us. The 

 great hummocks were cracking asunder with 

 frightful crashes that boomed far along the 

 coast. The change of wind was starting the 

 great ice-fields away from the island ; and where 

 the hummocks were frozen to the shore, there 

 was a fearfvil rending and grinding. For a few 

 minutes we were in great peril among the split- 

 ting floes, but at last jumped to land. 



The dusk of a stormy evening had settled on 

 the village, and most of the people were still 

 away on the ice-fields, which were now in mo- 



