CHAPTER II 



NEARING KILLINEK ESKIMOS ON BOARD MY GUIDE THE STEP- 

 PING STONES TENT LIFE SNOW HOUSES THE IGLO OLD 

 TUGLAVI THE TROUBLES OF A PHOTOGRAPHER SUPERSTITIONS 

 THE OLD WOMAN OF THE SEA THE HAPPY HUNTING 

 GROUNDS LEAVING KILLINEK 



IT was a sunny September morning in 1908. I 

 stood on the deck of the little Mission ship 

 Harmony, watching the bare black rocks of the 

 northernmost Labrador. I was going to see Killinek, 

 one of the loneliest Mission stations in the world. 

 The scenery was terribly bleak, in spite of the sun- 

 shine, and I thought to myself, "What an unpromising 

 place ! Nothing to see but rocks and water ! " On the 

 one hand the restless Atlantic, broken here and there 

 by tiny islets, mere jagged rocks sticking out of the 

 water, and half buried in foam ; on the other hand a 

 line of dull coast rising steeply from the sea ; a rugged 

 line of black, only relieved by the scattered patches 

 ; of grey where the moss had found a hold, and by 

 the streaks of rusty iron ore and the glint of falling 

 water. It was a picture of utter desolation, and yet 

 I knew that somewhere among those rocks an Eskimo 

 village nestled ; those rocks, to me no more than a 

 picture of barren grandeur, had a different look to 

 Eskimo eyes. They brought visions of seals and 

 walrus, of fat codfish eager to be taken, of shy birds 



trapped on their flight to more promising places ; 



25 



