A LAND OF ETERNAL WARRING 



667 



HAUI.ING UP AN OLD HARP SEAL IN WINTER ON THE WHAR^ 

 We eat these and feed dogs on them, and sell the skin and fat 



from monotony of physical circum- 

 stances. Scarcely a stone's throw from 

 this ceaseless strife one finds oneself in 

 a land almost of oppressive silence — a 

 country so utterly devoid of the busy 

 hum of human life that the dominant 

 idea forced upon one is, "Can I be cer- 

 tain I shr.U ever again get back to the 

 haunts of men?" while visions of the un- 

 certain opportunities for communication 

 with the world outside rise unbidden to 

 the mind. 



Soon, however, memories of its gener- 

 ous spaces, its glorious fiords, its keen, 

 bracing air, its call for resourcefulness, 

 its rich sea harvest, its noble rivers and 

 plenteous salmon, its wily, silent animals 

 with their priceless skins, its countless 

 deer herds come back to cheer one. Its 

 splendid evergreens, its gorgeous mosses, 

 the carpet bedding of its brilliant lichens 

 all serve to relieve the first chill of its 

 barrenness. Add to these its beauteous 

 nights, its long twilights, the fantastic 



