E. B. Delabarre, Ph. D. 95 



sleeping bags, camera, aneroid barometer, thermometer, and 

 rifles. At 2 p. m., local time (forty minutes behind St. John's 

 time), we set out from the schooner. Our first ten miles 

 were made in a trap-skifif, westward through Kangerdluksoak 

 Bay, in order to get to the rear of Mt. Johannes, which rose 

 in our way a little back of the mission house. Our crew, 

 consisting of Amandus, his brother, and two small Eskimo 

 boys about ten years old, were very merry, continually laugh- 

 ing, joking, and singing, and showing themselves sturdy and 

 willing workers. We found these excellent qualities in 

 Amandus throughout the trip. All about the bay rose 

 mountains, a few of them precipitously from the water's edge. 

 Those near the bay attain a height apparently of about 2,500 

 feet. Most of them are rounded and glacier-worn, with 

 numerous projecting and impressive knobs. Far ofif to the 

 south a snowy peak was sometimes visible over the nearer 

 heights, and to the west were other still higher summits. 



At six o'clock we landed just beyond the furthest outlying 

 slopes of Johannes. From this point a low, wide valley, 

 rising in the middle not more than 50 feet, stretched north- 

 ward two and a half miles to a small bay called Iterungnek. 

 Shouldering our packs, we walked through this valley. Back 

 of us the sunset was lighting up the hills, the nearer ones 

 with yellow, the more distant with violet hues. We soon 

 passed what our guide said were Eskimo houses — rude walls 

 of stone built under a projecting rock and forming two rough 

 shelters. They looked black and old, but their sombre hues 

 were relieved by pink masses of fireweed flowers growing 

 thickly about them. Further on, on the shore of the bay, was 

 a group of ancient Eskimo graves. We rounded the head of 

 the bav, skirted the shore for a little distance further, and at 



