;^^2 Life of Auduhon. 



place, where I found the man still on his knees. When 

 his devotions were concluded he bowed to me and ad- 

 dressed me in very indifferent French. I asked why he 

 had chosen so dreary a spot for his prayers. ' Because, 

 answered he, ' the sea lies before me, and from it I re- 

 ceive my spring and summer sustenance. When winter 

 approaches I pray fronting the mountains on the main, 

 as at that period the caraboos come towards the shore 

 and I kill them, feed on their flesh, and form my bedding 

 of their skins.' I thought the answer reasonable, and, as 

 I longed to know more of him, followed him to his hut. 

 It was low and very small, fomied of stones plastered 

 with mud to a considerable thickness. The roof was 

 composed of a sort of thatching made of weeds and 

 moss. A large Dutch stove filled nearly one half of the 

 place ; a small port-hole, then stuffed with old rags, serv-. 

 ed at times instead of a window ; the bed was a pile of 

 deer-skins ; a bowl, a jug, and an iron pot were placed 

 on a rude shelf; three old and rusty muskets, their locks 

 fastened by thongs, stood in a corner ; and his buck-shot, 

 powder, and flints were tied up in bags of skin. Eight 

 Esquimaux dogs yelled and leaped about us. The strong 

 smell that emanated from them, together with the smoke 

 and filth of the apartment, rendered my stay in it very 

 disagreeable. Being a native of France, the good man 

 showed much politeness, and invited me to take some re- 

 freshment, when, without waiting for my assent, he took 

 up his bowl and went off I knew not whither. No sooner 

 had he and his strange dogs disappeared, than I went out 

 also to breathe the pure air and gaze on the wild and ma- 

 jestic scenery around. I was struck with the extraordi- 

 nary luxuriance of the plants and grasses that had sprung 

 u|:f on the scanty soil in the little valley which the squatter 

 had chosen for his home. Their stalks and broad blades 

 reached my waist. June had come, and the flies, mos- 



