90 MY ARCTIC JOURNAL 



doing this, but they are probably so accustomed to the (to 

 me) terrible odor that they fail to notice it. 



I dislike very much to have the natives in my room, on 

 account of their dirty condition, and especially as they are 

 alive with parasites, of which I am in deadly fear, much to the 

 amusement of our party. But it is impossible for the women 

 to sew in the other room, where the boys are at work on their 

 sledges and ski, so I allow two at a time to come into my 

 room, taking good care that they do not get near the bed. 

 At the end of their day's work, I take my little broom, which is 

 an ordinary whisk lashed to a hoe-handle, and sweep the room 

 carefully. The boys have made brooms out of the wings of 

 ducks and gulls, which are very satisfactory, there being only 

 the bare floor to sweep; but I have a carpet on my floor, and the 

 feather brooms make no impression on it, so I am compelled 

 to use my little whisk. It answers the purpose admirably, but 

 it takes me twice as long as it would otherwise have done. 

 After the room has been thoroughly swept, I sprinkle it with a 

 solution of corrosive sublimate, given to me by the doctor, and 

 in this way manage to keep entirely free from the pests. 

 Both Mr. Peary and myself rub down with alcohol every night 

 before retiring as a further protection against these horrible 

 " koomakshuey," and we are amply repaid for our trouble. 

 Matt has entirely recovered from his sick spell, and has again 

 taken charge of the cooking. 



I was right in my surmise about the widow ; she accompa- 

 nied the "dudes" to Cape York, taking her three children with 



