290 THE ESKIMO ABOUT BERING STRAIT (ETH. ANN. 18 
who, soon after birth, had been exposed in this manner with her mouth 
filled with snow. Fortunately for the child, this occurred close to a 
trading station. By accident the trader found her a few moments 
later, and by threats succeeded in making the mother take her back. 
The child was afterward reared without further attempt on the part of 
the parents to take its life. 
One of the Eskimo told me that if a man had a girl not more than 5 
or 6 years old who cried much, or if he disliked it for any reason, or 
found it difficult to obtain food for the family, he would take it far out 
on the ice at sea or on the tundra during a severe snow storm, and 
there abandon it to perish by exposure. 
A man at St Michael was in my house one day and told me in a 
casual way that his wife had given birth to another girl, and added, 
“At first I was going to throw it away on the tundra, and then I could 
not, for it was too dear to me.” This man was one of the most intelli- 
gent Eskimo I knew. He had been associated with the Russians and 
other white men since early boyhood, and was one of the so-called con- 
verts of the Russian church; yet the idea that a man was not perfectly 
justified in disposing of a girl child as he saw fit never for a momeut 
occurred to him. 
On the other hand, a pair of childless Eskimo frequently adopt a 
child, either a girl or a boy, preferably the latter. This is done so that 
when they die there will be some one left whose duty it will be to make 
the customary feast and offerings to their shades at the festival of the 
dead. All of the Eskimo appear to have great dread of dying without 
being assured that their shades will be remembered during the fes- 
tivals, fearing if negiected that they would thereby suffer destitution 
in the future life. 
In March, 1880, while on a journey to Sledge island, just south of 
Bering strait, we were accompanied for the last 75 miles by the wife of 
our Eskimo interpreter, who was a fine looking woman of about 30 
years and was heavy with child. She went with us in order that her 
confinement might take place among her own people, who lived on the 
island. Notwithstanding her condition, she tramped steadily through 
the snow with the rest of us day after day, and on the morning of our 
arrival at the island she was in the room with us talking and laughing 
when she became suddenly ill, went to her mother’s house, and was 
delivered of a fine boy in less than half an hour. Directly after the 
birth a shaman came in and borrowed from me a drum and a small 
ivory carving of a white whale, which I had purchased on the road. 
The father explained that the image of the whale was borrowed to put 
in the child’s mouth so as to feed him upon something that would make 
him grow up a fine hunter. The shaman beat the drum and sang for 
half an hour over the boy to make him stout-hearted and manly. The 
woman remained at this village a few days and then walked back the 
75 miles to her home, carrying the child on her back. 
