AT GODHAVEN. 
413 
a dead child. It was many months since I had look- 
ed at a corpse. The poor little thing had been for 
once washed clean, and looked cheerfully. The fa- 
ther leaned over it weeping, for it was a hoy; and 
two little sisters were making lamentation in a most 
natural and savage way. 
I gave the corpse a string of blue heads, and bought 
a pair of seal-skin hoots for twenty-five cents ; and 
we rowed back to the brig. In a very little while 
we were under sail for Godhaven. 
We were but five days recruiting at Godhaven. 
It was a shorter stay than we had expected ; but we 
were all of us too anxious to regain the searching 
ground to complain. We made the most ol‘ it, of 
course. We ate inordinately of eider, and codfish, 
and seal, to say nothing of a hideous-looking toad 
fish, a Lepodogaster, that insisted on patronizing our 
pork-baited lines; chewed bitter herbs, too, of every 
sort we could get; drank largely of the smallest of 
small-beer; and danced with the natives, teaching 
them the polka, and learning the pee-oo-too-ka in re- 
turn. But on the 22d, by six o’clock in the morning, 
we were working our way again to the north. 
We passed the hills of Disco in review, with their 
terraced summits, simulating the Ghauts of Hindos- 
tan ; the green-stone cliffs round Omenak’s Fiord, the 
great dockyard of bergs ; and Cape Cranstoun, around 
which they were clustered like a fleet waiting for con- 
voy. They were of majestic proportions; and as we 
wound our way tortuously among them, one after an- 
other would come into the field of view, like a tem- 
ple set to be the terminus of a vista. At one time 
we had the whole Acropolis looking down upon us in 
silver; at another, our Philadelpia copy of the Par- 
