MOURNING FOR THE DEAD. 
117 
second hut, a smaller one than Metek’s, with his pretty 
wife, a sister of Kalutunak’s. I could hardly believe 
the infanticide story which Hans had told me of this 
young couple; and, pretending ignorance of the matter, 
I asked after the child’s health. Their manner satis¬ 
fied me that the story was true; they turned their 
hands downward, but without any sign of confusion. 
They did not even pay its memory the cheap compli¬ 
ment of tears, which among these people are always at 
hand. 
There is a singular custom which I have often 
noticed here as well as among some of the Asiatics, 
and which has its analogies in more cultivated centres. 
I allude to the regulated formalities of mourning for 
the dead. They weep according to system; when one 
begins all are expected to join, and it is the office of 
courtesy for the most distinguished of the company to 
wipe the eyes of the chief mourner. They often as¬ 
semble by concert for a general weeping-match; but it 
happens sometimes that one will break out into tears 
and others courteously follow, without knowing at first 
what is the particular subject of grief. 
It is not, however, the dead alone who are sorrowed 
for by such a ceremony. Any other calamity may call 
for it as well: the failure of a hunt, the snapping of a 
walrus-line, or the death of a dog. Mrs. Eider-duck, 
nee Small Belly, (Egurk,) once looked up at me from 
her kolupsut and burst into a gentle gush of wo. I 
was not informed of her immediate topic of thought, 
but with remarkable presence of mind I took out my 
