290 THE ESKIMO ABOUT BERING STRAIT [eth.ann. 18 



who, vsoon after birth, had been exposed in this manner with lier month 

 filled with snow. Fortunately for the child, this occurred close to a 

 trading station. By accident the trader found her a few moments 

 later, and by threats succeeded in making the mother take her back. 

 The child was afterward reared without further attempt on the ]>art of 

 the parents to take its life. 



One of the Eskimo told me that if a man had a girl not more than 5 

 or C years old who cried much, or if he disliked it for any reason, or 

 found it difficult to obtain food for the family, he would take it far out 

 on the ice at sea or on the tundra during a severe snow storm, and 

 there abandon it to perish by exposure. 



A man at St Michael was in my house one day and told me in a 

 casual way that his wife had given birth to another girl, and added, 

 "At first I was going to throw it away on the tundra, and then I could 

 not, for it was too dear to me." This man was one of the most intelli- 

 gent Eskimo I knew. He had been associated with the Russians and 

 other white men since early boyhood, and was one of the so-called con 

 verts of the Bussian church; yet the idea that a man was not perfectly 

 justified in disposing of a girl child as he saw fit never for a moment 

 occurred to him. 



On the other hand, a pair of childless Eskimo frequently adopt a 

 child, either a girl or a boy, preferably the latter. This is done so that 

 when they die there will be some one left whose duty it will be to make 

 the customary feast and offerings to their shades at the festival of the 

 dead. All of the Eskimo appear to have great dread of dying Avithout 

 being assured that their shades will be remembered during the fes- 

 tivals, fearing if neglected that they would thereby suffer destitution 

 in the future life. 



In March, 1880, while on a journey to Sledge island, just south of 

 Bering strait, we were accompanied for the last 75 miles by the wife of 

 our Eskimo interpreter, who was a fine looking woman of about 30 

 years and was heavy with child. She went with us in order that her 

 confinement might take place among her own people, wlio lived on the 

 island. Notwithstanding her condition, she tramped steadily through 

 the snow with the rest of us day after day, and on the morning of our 

 arrival at the island she was in the room with us talking and laughing 

 when she became suddenly ill, went to her mother's house, and was 

 delivered of a fine boy in less than half an hour. Directlj^ after the 

 birth a shaman came in and borrowed from me a drum and a small 

 ivory carving of a white whale, which I had purchased on the road. 

 The father explained that the image of the whale was borrowed to put 

 in the child's mouth so as to feed him upon something that would make 

 him grow up a fine hunter. The shaman beat the drum and sang for 

 half an hour over the boy to make him stout-hearted and manl3^ The 

 woman remained at this village a few days and then walked back the 

 75 miles to her home, carrying the child on her back. 



