118 THE LAST VOYAGE OF THE KARLUK 
It was a fine clear night outside, with little or 
no wind, the land visible to the southwest and the 
temperature between thirty and forty below zero. 
Gathered around the big stove in the box-house we 
went through a varied and impromptu programme 
of song and recitation. Some one recited “Casey 
at the Bat,” another “Lasca,” while Munro gave 
us poems by Bums, of which he had a goodly store 
in his memory. With or without the accompani¬ 
ment of instrumental music on a comb, we sang 
about every popular favorite, old and new: “Loch 
Lomond” and “The Banks of the Wabash,” “The 
Heart Bowed Down” and “I Wonder Who’s Kiss¬ 
ing Her Now,” “Sweet Afton” and “The Devil’s 
Ball,” “I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls” and 
“Maggie Murphy’s Home,” “Red Wing” (the fa¬ 
vorite), “Aileen Alana” (another favorite), “Put 
on Your Old Gray Bonnet,” “Alexander’s Rag¬ 
time Band,” “The Wearing of the Green,” “Jingle 
Bells” (which might have been appropriate if we 
had used the dog harness which we had with bells 
on it and had ridden on the sledges instead of walk¬ 
ing) and many another song, good, bad or indiffer¬ 
ent. The Eskimo woman sang hymns and the 
little girl sang nursery songs, such as “Twinkle, 
Twinkle, Little Star,” in which her mother joined. 
It may be hard to believe but we were really en¬ 
joying ourselves these days. We were comfort- 
