THE ESKIMOS AND THE MISSION 



who are now clustered in their tents and snow huts 

 around the little wooden church at Killinek. 



At the older stations, with their weather-beaten 

 wooden huts and their trim, white-painted Mission 

 houses, the people are bred and born in a Christian 

 atmosphere, and life at these villages gives a true 

 picture of life in a native Christian community. 



To see the people go to church is in itself an 

 inspiration : the bell rings, and in they flock. There 

 is no compulsion ; they go because they like to go ; 

 it is a pleasure to them. 



Of course during the seasons of open water the 

 attendance is comparatively small ; the people are 

 scattered at their hunting and fishing places, maybe 

 twenty miles from the village, and though a good 

 number of the nearer ones come by boat for the 

 Sunday services, it is in the winter that we see the 

 church crowded every day. If any one wants to be 

 cheered up, I recommend an Eskimo Christmas 

 service. There is a dignity about it : the missionary 

 has the people well in hand ; they listen eagerly to 

 what he has to say and read, and join right lustily in 

 the hymns : there is pathos, too, as you can see if 

 you look at the worn but beaming face of the cripple 

 packed among a pile of reindeer skins on the floor ; 

 there is humour, too, in the way some solemn old 

 hunter has to find a seat among the little children on 

 the front bench because the other places are all full ; 

 he lets himself gravely down while the children nudge 

 one another and edge away in awe. 



It, is a charming sight, to look over that sea of 

 faces from the missionary's bench ; every eye is fixed 

 on the speaker, every face is tense and eager. In 

 the very front are the children, on their special low 



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