THE WHALING FLEET SAILS AWAY 63 



My journey with Harrison from Herschel Island to 

 Shingle Point was merely a fifty-mile boat voyage with- 

 out adventure. He pitched camp for a few days on the 

 sandspit there for fishing purposes, and partly also with a 

 friendly desire to wait around to see if I would not change 

 my mind about taking a chance with the Eskimos. He 

 argued that the season was now so late that the Duchess 

 was not likely to come and that I had better go with him 

 east. He had half a dozen sacks of flour and several 

 other items of white men's fare, and his offer to share 

 these with me was a generous one from the point of view 

 of any ordinary white man, for no one who has not lived 

 with the Eskimos in their houses and on their food is 

 likely to think in advance that it is going to be pleasant. 

 I did not think that it was going to be exactly pleasant, 

 but I told Harrison that in case my ship did not come 

 I had made up my mind to live as an Eskimo with the 

 Eskimos for the purpose of learning their language and 

 customs and becoming as intimate with them as possible. 

 You can never live in your own house as a neighbor to 

 people of a strange race and expect to get an intimate 

 view of their lives through visiting them no matter how 

 frequently. 



On September 3rd Harrison's whaleboat and five others 

 owned by Eskimos sailed east from Shingle Point, and I 

 began my apprenticeship at living as an Eskimo among 

 the Eskimos. 



