XXIII 



WRITING 



To the uninitiated children of nature, the art of 

 reading and writing seemed at first as great a mys- 

 tery as the electric current. How those scrawls of 

 black lines were words, that could be spoken just 

 the same as in conversation, was beyond their com- 

 prehension. At first, they gathered around every 

 time a letter was received and listened eagerly. 

 Then arose the desire for them to be able to make 

 out those intelligible scrawls that had a meaning. 



One elderly woman seemed to feel slighted that 

 she had not received a letter; so going on board the 

 whalers at anchor, she inquired if there was not one 

 for her. At last her heart was made glad by re- 

 ceiving a mukpara (letter) which read as follows: — 

 "Give this woman a dose of poison." Carefully 

 wrapping the precious missive in a piece of sealskin 

 and attaching a string, she wore it around her neck 

 as an ornament, and guarded it zealously. 



With the young people, it was a proud day when 

 they had advanced far enough in their studies to be 

 i6i 



