90 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES 



"How long have you had that?" I said gravely. 

 "What?" 



I tapped my chest for reply. 

 "Oh! since last spring." 



"And you had it the spring before, too, didn't you?" 

 "Why, yes! (a pause). But that isn't what bothers 

 me." 



"Isn't your husband kind to you?" 



" Yes — sometimes." 



"Is this your husband?" 



"No! F B is; I am K ." 



Again she was interrupted by coughing. 



"Would you like something to ease that cough?" I 

 asked. 



"No! It isn't the body that's sick; it's the heart." 



"Do you wish to tell me about it?" 



"I lost my babies." 



"When?" 



"Two years ago. I had two little ones, and both 

 died in one month. I am left much alone; my hus- 

 band is away on the transport; our lodge is nearby. 

 The chief has all these dogs ; they bark at every little 

 thing and disturb me, so I lie awake all night and think 

 about my babies. But that isn't the hardest thing." 



"What is it?" 



She hesitated, then burst out: "The tongues of the 

 women. You don't know what a hell of a place this 

 is to live in. The women here don't mind their work; 

 they sit all day watching for a chance to lie about their 

 neighbours. If I am seen talking to you now, a story 

 will be made of it. If I walk to the store for a pound 



