The Eskimo, even to a greater extent than the Indian, depends upon the chase for his existence. The Indian is dependent, in the uncivilized state, on the animals he kills for food and clothing, while the Eskimo must not only get his sustenance and raiment by the chase, but also his fuel, which is either obtained from the blubber of seals and whales, or from the fat of the barren-ground caribou.

The yearly round of life of the Eskimo differs but little anywhere, except on the Atlantic coast of Labrador, where it has been modified by the missionaries. A description of the annual life of an Eskimo of the east coast of Hudson bay is typical of that of the other tribes, and only accidental variations occur, due to the prevalence of particular game, such as the musk-ox, in some regions.

During the winter the Eskimo lives in a snowhouse or iglo; in the summer in a tent or tupik, made of seal or deer skins. The year begins with the lengthening days of January, and this is usually a period of hard times, lasting for a couple of months. The Eskimo of the southern regions is then on his yearly journey to the trading post, where he will exchange the proceeds of the past year’s hunt for ammunition, tobacco, and a few luxuries of clothing and tools. The ice along the coast in January does not extend far from the shore, and the seals keep in the open water, where they can only be killed by being shot from the edge of the ice. This is a very uncertain subsistence for the native, owing to the storms of the season, which either break the ice from the shore, or crowd its edge with small floating cakes, forming an impassable barrier to the open water. If a good supply of deermeat has not been laid by during the fall, periods of starvation are now frequent; these, when severe and prolonged, result in death or disaster, more natives dying at this time than throughout the rest of the year. The annual journey is made in stages; the native remains in a suitable spot for killing seals until enough of these animals has been secured to meet the requirements of food for the family and dogs, for a few days; then everything is securely lashed on the long, narrow sleds, and the party, usually consisting of two or more families, travels slowly southward along the shore ice, a woman often walking ahead of the dogs to encourage them. The men wander about on the ice in search of seal-holes, and occasionally secure a seal while on the journey. In the evening a halt is made, and the men build a small snowhouse with blocks cut from a convenient bank. These small houses, built only for the night, seldom exceed nine or ten feet in diameter, and it is only when a considerable stay is expected that larger houses are built.

The Labrador Eskimos rarely live more than one family in a house, but on the west shore of Hudson bay and at Cumberland gulf two or more families often live together, either in connected houses or in a single large house. The largest single house, seen by the writer, at Cape Fullerton, was twenty-seven feet in diameter and twelve feet from the floor to the centre of the dome; it was inhabited by four families. This house was too large for the material, and the roof had to be supported by props shortly after being built; but several others, eighteen feet in diameter, showed no signs of such weakness.

The Eskimo first tests the snow of the neighbouring banks by probing with his long snow-knife, often a twelve-inch butcher knife, and when he finds a bank formed by the drift of a single storm, he cuts an oblong hole about five feet long, two or three feet wide, and about twenty inches deep, with a clean face on one of the longer sides. He next cuts blocks from this face; these blocks are about five or six inches thick, from twenty-four to thirty inches long and twenty inches deep. A line the width of the block is first drawn on the surface, then cuts are made at the ends and bottom of the block, after which the knife is thrust down several times along the rear line and the block is wedged off. One man usually cuts blocks, while another builds the house. A circle the size of the intended house is traced on the surface of the snow, and the first circle of blocks arranged around it. When this is completed, the first few blocks are cut down diagonally, so that the next layer of blocks will take a spiral form and continue to wind in a decreasing curve until the dome is closed by an irregular key-block. This manner of building is superior to a succession of lessening circles, as each block is so cut as to be held by the one placed immediately before, and thus one man only is needed at the work, whereas, if the circular method were used, the different blocks of the circle would require to be held in place until the circle was complete. The finished house is a snow-dome of about two-thirds the height of the diameter of the base, with the arch flattened towards the summit. When all the blocks are in place, the cracks between them are chinked with loose snow, generally by the women. A line of blocks is then placed across the centre of the floor-space opposite to where the door will be, with other blocks at right angles to thus reduce the floor-space to a rectangle extending from the door to the centre of the iglo. On the far side of these walls, blocks of snow are thrown, and cut to form a smooth platform about eighteen inches higher than the original floor; this forms the bed of the family, while the side platforms hold the camp and cooking utensils. A door is now cut in the wall opposite the bed; it is about thirty inches high and eighteen inches wide, and passes into a tunnel porch several feet long and somewhat larger than the door, built later, and serves as a shelter for the dogs. When the house is permanent, the porch is built with two or more lobes with doors at each contraction.

While the men are finishing the porch and other work outside, the women take the bedding and household goods from the sled and put the house in order for the night. The bed is formed by laying, upon the snow, mats of closely woven branches of a small willow, which separate the deerskins from the snow. The bedding is composed of several thicknesses of deerskins, dressed with the hair on; these completely prevent any cold from penetrating from below. On the bed thus formed rest the deerskin sleeping bags, which are only closed for about a third of the length at the bottom, or not at all. The lamp is next put in position, on the shelf at one side of the house between the door and bed. It is made of stone, and rests upon three or four short sticks thrust into the snow. When the soapstone, out of which the lamp is usually made, cannot be obtained, any other easily worked rock is used. On top the lamp is roughly triangular in outline, the sides of the triangle being long concave curves. There is one long side and two equal short ones which meet each other in a wide angle; this results in a triangle with a base about twice the length of the vertical. The length varies from ten inches to more than thirty inches, eighteen being an ordinary length. The upper surface of the lamp is slightly hollowed to form a receptacle for the blubber and oil. The lower side is curved so that the lamp has a thickness varying from an inch to two inches. The lamp is fed with seal blubber, or deer fat; the former most commonly. The blubber is cut in thin strips, partly suspended above the lamp on a stick, and a part of it bruised to start the extraction of the oil. A wick of dry, pulverized moss is placed around the edge of the lamp, and squeezed deftly into shape by the finger and thumb, after being moistened in the blubber. When the wick has been properly arranged, it is usually set alight with an ordinary match, or with a flint and steel, iron pyrites often taking the place of flint. The old usage of making fire by friction is seldom employed, and only in the case of the absence of the easier methods. At first the flame from the lamp is small, but the heat soon warms up the stone, and the blubber melts without much attention. As the flame increases the wick requires considerable manipulation so that the flame may burn evenly around the lamp and not cause smoke.

The more remote Eskimos suspend an oblong kettle of soapstone over the flame to melt ice and cook food, but most of the natives, having access to traders, have largely given up the use of the stone kettle and use tin ones in its place.

Cooked food, with its accompanying broths, is preferred to raw, but the Eskimos are not averse to raw meat, especially liver, the fat portions of the deer and all fish during the winter.

While the women are arranging the interior of the snowhouse, the men are busy unharnessing the dogs, feeding them with large lumps of seal or other meat, or with fish, which the dogs devour ravenously after their twenty-four hours’ fast. The harness and other things liable to be eaten by the dogs are either hung out of reach or taken into the house. If the night is stormy a couple of blocks of snow are put to windward of the hole from which they are taken, thus making a shelter for each dog. Many of the dogs disdain such shelter, and on the coldest stormy nights lie curled upon the highest place available, evidently preferring the cold to being drifted under by the snow in the holes prepared for them. The Eskimo, as a rule, is very considerate to his dogs, and only treats them violently at rare intervals. Then he uses the long heavy dog-whip to some purpose, and the dogs retain for all time the remembrance of it.

When more than one family live in a house, each has its independent lamp, and the family cooking is kept separate. Seals and other food are, to some extent, common property; that is, if an Eskimo kills an animal when alone, he divides it amongst his neighbours, who return the compliment. When hunting in company the customs vary with the animal killed and with the tribes; there is a great deal of etiquette observed, and as a rule each member of the party is entitled to some portion of the carcass.

The dog-sled on the east coast of Hudson bay, where driftwood is abundant, varies in length from twelve to twenty feet, sixteen feet being an average length. The runner is usually formed of one piece the length of the sled, but in the north, where wood is very scarce, the sled is shorter, and the runners are frequently formed of two or more pieces spliced and lashed together with seal line. Where wood cannot be obtained, whalebones form a substitute, and even ice is sometimes used as sled-runners.

The runners vary from two to three inches in thickness, and are four to eight inches deep. They are placed about fifteen inches apart, thus forming a long narrow sled. They are joined by a number of cross-bars, which vary from three to six inches in width and are about an inch thick. They are placed close together when possible, and cover the space between the runners extending from the rear end for two-thirds the length of the sled. These cross-pieces are securely lashed to the runners with seal-line, no nails being used in the construction of the sled. The ends of the bars project a short distance outside the runners, and are there nicked for the lash-line with which the load is secured to the sled. The runners are shod with ivory, bone from the jaw of the whale, or with hoop iron or steel. Shoeing made of pieces of walrus ivory is most prized. The ivory is cut into slabs about a half an inch thick; holes are bored through the slabs at intervals of about an inch, and the slabs are attached to the runner by wooden pegs through these holes. The slabs are rarely more than eight inches long, and a great deal of ingenuity is often displayed in the fitting of them to cover the bottom of the runner. An ivory-shod sled is one the most valuable possessions of an Eskimo.

When whalebone is used it is attached to the runner in the same manner as ivory; that is, with small wooden pegs, but the slabs of bone are usually several feet in length. Iron or steel are bad substitutes for bone or ivory, as they offer much more friction in cold weather when the snow is fine and gritty.

During the period of intense cold, lasting from December to April, the shoeing of the sled is of mud or lichens, frozen over the regular shoeing. The best material for this purpose is the dark brown peaty muck formed from the decay of mosses in swamps. Where this cannot be obtained, the white reindeer moss is mixed to a thick paste with water. This shoeing is attached to the runners in the following manner:—when cotton rags are available, these are wetted and frozen to the bottom of the runner, so as to cover the shoeing and extend a couple of inches up both sides of the runner. The muck, which has been boiled to a thick paste, is then applied warm over the cloth, and is roughly shaped by hand, so as to have a thickness of about an inch, with a section resembling the bulb of a heavy steel rail. After being roughly shaped, the muck is allowed to freeze hard, when it is worked over with a wood plane, and the inequalities are reduced to a smooth surface. It is then covered with a thin film of ice, either by lightly running a rag wet with warm fresh water over the surface, or by squirting a small even stream from the mouth. Great care is taken to have the iceing uniform, and every portion of the muck covered. This coating of ice is renewed every morning, and a sled so shod slips over the intensely cold snow with much less friction than when shod in any other known manner. As the weather gets warmer this muck is removed, and the ivory, bone or iron shoeing used.

The number of dogs in the team varies from eight to two or three, an average team being six. Each dog has a separate trace. The harness is formed of two loops of sealskins, which pass under the forelegs, and are sewn together on the breast and joined by a strip about four inches long over the shoulders, thus forming an opening for the head. The loops are brought together in the middle of the back, and the trace is there attached to their united ends. The trace is made of a single length of line cut from the skin of the Big seal (Phoca barbata), and varies in length from ten to thirty feet. The traces are regulated in length, so that the dogs when pulling straight ahead have the leading dog about two yards in advance, and the others in pairs about a yard behind each other. The traces are made long in order that the dogs may not be massed in passing rough or thin ice, and for the same reason the traces are not fastened to the front of the sled, but to a loop of walrus line which is attached at the first bar, or nearly a third of the length back. By this means the sled is easily turned, and allowed to run at a considerable angle to the direction in which the dogs are travelling; advantage is thus taken of the smoothest places when journeying along the broken ice piled upon the shores. The use of individual traces is not without its drawbacks. While travelling the dogs constantly cross from side to side among themselves, and weave their traces into a single rope. Stops must be made every few hours to untangle the traces. The long trace is also constantly fouling hummocks while passing over rough ice; when this occurs the dog is pulled back to the sled by the fouled trace, and if he does not get hurt physically, at least his pride is offended, so that, when freed, he usually has a little unpleasantness with every dog he passes to regain his place in the team. The leading dog answers more or less satisfactorily to the word of command, and is followed by the other dogs. The usual commands are to swing right or left, to start and to stop. The dogs are very acute of hearing, and the words are usually given in a low tone. When a dog is to receive punishment he is pulled back in the team and his shortened trace made fast to the sled; the driver can then give his undivided attention to the whip. A great deal of dexterity is shown in using the whip, and a lot of time is spent practising with it. A good whip handler knows at least four or five different cuts, and can hit within an inch or so anywhere inside the length of the long lash. The blow is terrific.

When an Eskimo leaves a snow-house, his household goods are removed by breaking a hole in the side of the wall. They are then loaded on the sled, and retained by cross-lashings of sealskin passed from side to side, where they are secured in the niches of the cross-bars.

When the ice has frozen several miles out from the shore many of the seals remain in the shallow waters of the bays and sounds. In order to do this they are compelled to keep holes open so that they may breathe from time to time. They form these holes either by enlarging natural cracks or, when such do not occur, by scraping with their front flippers a conical hole big enough to admit their body and with a few inches to spare at the surface. As the time approaches to bring forth her young, the female enlarges a hole, usually in rough ice where the snow is deeply drifted, and there clears away the snow about the hole, forming a flat-domed house sufficiently large to accommodate herself and her young. The pups are born in March and April. A seal does not necessarily confine itself to one or more breathing holes of its own, but uses those of other seals, so that the chances of killing a seal at any particular hole varies. The Eskimo now forsakes the edge of the floe and hunts his seals at these holes. In order to find the holes he employs his keenest scented dog, harnessed, who soon smells a hole and rushes to it dragging his master with him. If the hole appears well frequented, and the Eskimo is anxious to obtain a seal, he takes the dog some distance away and ties him securely by his trace to the ice. He then returns to the hole, and clears the snow from about its opening, replacing it with a fresh thin slab, on which the centre of the hole is plainly marked. If he intends to remain until a seal comes, he often erects a low wall of snow to windward, and sometimes places a block close to the hole as a seat. A piece of deer or bear skin is put down to stand on; he then ties a thong around his legs at the knees so that they may make no noise by striking together when shivering with the cold. All preparations being complete, he stands or sits absolutely motionless for hours until a seal comes to the hole to breathe. The slightest movement or noise made as the seal approaches raises suspicion and the animal goes elsewhere. The near approach is heralded by strings of bubbles formed by the animal emptying its lungs as it rises to the hole. When its nostrils are above the water and it begins a series of long inspirations, the Eskimo noiselessly brings his spear directly over the centre of the hole, and strikes down with his full strength, hoping to drive the barb into the brain and immediately kill the seal. This often happens with small ones, but with the large ground-seal a single blow rarely kills it, and a struggle between man and victim then takes place. The winter seal spear is from five to six feet long. It consists of four parts, the barb, the iron rod on which the head fits, the wooden shaft and the iron ice-chisel at the end opposite to the spear. The head or barb is now almost always made of iron, the ancient ones being of stone, or iron and ivory. It is about three inches long, and quite narrow in proportion to the length; the point is formed into a slender barbed spear, with a small hole at its base which fits the iron rod of the handle. Near the centre is another hole, at right angles to the length, to which is attached several fathoms of seal line. The rod of the shaft is from fifteen to thirty inches long, and is usually made from three-eighths or half-inch iron or steel. At the upper end it is pointed to fit the hole in the base of the spearhead; at the lower end it is securely fastened to the wooden handle by being driven into it to the depth of three or four inches, and the end of the wood is strongly bound with sinew. The wooden handle forms the middle portion of the spear; it is usually about two feet long, and of sufficient circumference to afford a strong and convenient grasp. A small peg of ivory projects about half an inch from the side of the wooden handle, and over this peg a small loop attached to the spear line is passed. This keeps the line taut, and holds the head securely in place on the end of the rod. When a seal is struck the loop slips from the peg and the spearhead is detached from the handle. In striking a seal, the handle is held in the right hand and the line in a coil in the left. Immediately the animal is struck the hunter lays down the handle and devotes himself to the line. If the seal is a large one and struggles much, a turn of the line is taken around the waist, and the hunter braces himself for an encounter, in which the seal is sometimes the victor. Great care is necessary in paying out the line, for many a finger has been lost by becoming entangled in a loop. The violently struggling seal must soon breathe, and to do so is compelled to rise in the hole; then the hunter endeavours to drive the pointed rod into its brain, and usually does so very quickly. The hole is then enlarged with the ice-chisel on the end of the spear handle. The chisel is commonly made of half-inch square iron or steel firmly sunk into the wooden shaft and fined down to a long chisel-edge. When the seal has been hauled on the ice a number of ceremonies are gone through in order to propitiate its spirit and to please the goddess of the marine animals. One of the customs consists in bursting the eyes so that the seal’s spirit may not see that it is being taken to the snow-house. Of course these customs are falling into disuse among the Christianized Eskimos of Labrador and Cumberland gulf, but there remains, even among the most enlightened, a strong leaven of their ancient superstitions and customs.

At every stopping place traps are set for foxes. The trap is usually a single-spring steel one, of which each native usually has two or three. The traps are set on the snow and covered with a thin sheet of hard snow, the bait being hidden alongside. Where steel traps are not available, long narrow boxes of stone or ice are constructed, with the bait in the back part, and attached to a dead fall, so that when it is disturbed, the door falls upon the fox. The Arctic fox is generally plentiful in the early winter months, when many of them travel southward along the coast.

The months of January and February are passed by the Eskimos on the journey to the trading post, where a short stay of a few days is made to dry the fox-skins caught during the winter, and to trade these along with deer and other skins in the shop. There is no cash used in these transactions; the skins are handed over to the trader, who values them from a standard of a white fox skin. When the amount has been made up, he hands to the native a number of tokens representing the value of his hunt in fox-skins. The usual tariff is about as follows:—

The Eskimo trades back, over the counter, the tokens received for his hunt. The first purchase is a supply of tobacco; next comes ammunition, and then follow tools, cheap clothing, needles, tin kettles, knives, files, &c., until his stock of tokens is used up. The immediate profit on the goods supplied is very great, but when the cost of transport and the maintenance of the post are taken into account the profit, which appears enormous at first, is found to be not excessive, considering the precarious nature of the fur trade, with its fluctuating market and the chances against good hunts.

The trading completed, the natives collect in large bands on the ice, usually in the vicinity of some long crack or other place where seals are abundant, and spend the next month going from encampment to encampment visiting friends and exchanging the news. With the first signs of mild weather a start is made northward. Life now is very pleasant; the days are long and becoming mild; seals are killed in large numbers on the ice, as they lie basking and sleeping in the warm sun. A good deal of patience and some excellent mimicry is displayed in killing seals at this time. When one is seen lying near its hole, the native approaches as near as possible, say within 500 yards, when he lies down and crawls and wriggles the remainder of the distance. During this operation great care is taken not to excite the animal’s suspicion, and an advance is only made when the seal’s head is down. A seal appears to sleep in short naps, and raises his head every few minutes; when he does so the hunter immediately hides his face, and with his arms and legs imitates the motions of a seal scratching or lazily rolling, at the same time mimicking the blowing and other noises made by the seals; by so doing he soon lulls suspicion, and is enabled to crawl a little closer. By advancing in this manner he can get within fifty yards of his prey, when he shoots it. When the native has no gun, he continues to close in until sufficiently near to kill with his lance; this must, however, be done quickly, for the seal displays wonderful agility in falling into the water when disturbed.

Early in May the few families who intend to pass the summer inland leave the coast and hurry to their destination before the sun melts the snow. The greater number pass the early summer on the coast.

With the advent of June the snow begins to melt, and soon after the land becomes bare. This is a period of trial for the house-wife; the warmth causes the roofs of the snow-houses to leak, and they can only be kept up by a daily patching with loose snow, while the ground is not sufficiently bare for the erection of the summer tent; it becomes a constant fight with the heat and water, terminated only by the roof falling in. The smell and general filthiness of one of these deserted spring houses is better left to the imagination; it is indeed beyond description. During this time, while the ice on the coast still holds, the men are busily employed killing seals, whose skins are needed to repair the summer tent and to cover the Eskimo’s boat or kyak. The men bring in the animals and skin them, after which the skins are handed to the women to dress. If they are to be used to repair the tent, or for bags, they are simply dried by stretching them on wooden pegs about six inches above the ground. If they are required to coyer the kyak, or for boots, the hair is scraped off with an ordinary chopping knife, against the grain, and the film is removed from the inner skin. For winter boots, the hair is rotted off and the skin has a white colour, but it is not water-proof.

As soon as a convenient level spot of ground is bare of snow the snow-house is abandoned and the summer tent erected. The tent is of a ridge-pole pattern, with the ridge from six to ten feet long, resting in the front in the socket between two crossed poles and at the rear terminating at the apex of a number of poles which form a half cone to the back of the tent. The ridge is about six or seven feet high, and the frame over all about twelve feet long and about nine feet wide on the ground. The covering is made either of seal or deer skins, except in the case of a man of wealth, who has a cover of cotton. Both the seal and deer skins used for this purpose are dressed with the hair on, and are used with the hairy side exposed.

This is the time to repair, and if necessary make new, wooden frames for the kyak. The kyak is a long narrow boat sharply pointed at both ends, and entirely decked over except a small well sufficiently large for the entrance of a man’s body. The frame is of wood, and is covered with sealskins sewn together to make a water-tight cover. Each tribe has a slightly different model, the difference being in the shape of the bow or stern or in the relative width. The Labrador kyak, common to the Atlantic coast and Hudson bay and strait, is nearly twenty feet long, and over two feet wide in the middle, or well section. It has a long sharp bow, which leaves the water about six feet from the forward end, where it stands about fifteen inches above the water. The stern is lower and less sharp, terminating in a knob about a foot long, which projects slightly above the water. The front of the well is situated about the middle of the length, so that the opening is in the fore part of the after-half of the deck. It is roughly oval in shape, and is surrounded by a wooden combing about six inches deep, so placed as to slope upwards towards the bow. The boat is propelled by a narrow double paddle. The frame is made of thin strips of wood forming the gunwales, and of five or seven additional strips, one of which is the keelson. These are kept in place by light ribs placed about a foot apart, with corresponding deck beams. Considerable mechanical skill is displayed in the making of this frame, which is all fitted together without the use of a single nail, wooden pegs and sinew lashings being alone used.

The natives about Cumberland gulf and along the west side of Hudson bay, who are employed by the whalers, are gradually giving up the use of the kyak, and now do their hunting and travelling with whaleboats, which are supplied to them by the whaling vessels. Each vessel at the end of her voyage generally leaves all spare boats behind. These are distributed among the natives, and the result is that nearly every family possesses a boat. The Aivilliks and Kenipitus, of the west coast of Hudson bay, still make use of the kyak for inland hunting, but the Cumberland people take their whaleboats into the interior.

The Kenipitu kyak is extraordinary in shape. It is long and narrow and quite deep, so that the midship section is almost semicircular. The ends terminate in long narrow points, of which the bow end slopes downward towards the water and the stern end is inclined upwards. This kyak is so narrow that the combing of the well sometimes projects beyond the sides. Being narrow and cranky, a good deal of skill is required to handle these craft with safety, and accidents caused by upsetting are not uncommon. These kyaks are covered with parchment deerskin, and are the only ones painted, various colours being obtained for the purpose from oxide of iron found in the interior.

As soon as the frame is complete, all the women of the encampment join in sewing on the sealskin cover, as the operation when started must be completed at one sitting, before the skins dry. The seams are made with a double lap, and are quite water-tight. The skin shrinks on drying, and becomes stretched like a drum over the frame.

The natives have another boat called the umiak or woman’s boat. This is also made with a wooden frame covered with skins, but it is much larger than the hunting kyak of the men. In shape it roughly resembles a large square-ended punt, being often twenty feet and over in length, by six feet or more across the middle section, and tapering towards the ends to about half that width. It is made quite deep, and is capable of carrying a very heavy load. Usually two or more families use a single umiak to transport their goods from place to place, and as the poles and Big sealskin covering of each tent weigh upwards of half a ton, the capacity of these boats can be realized.

The framework is heavy, and the sides are kept in place by a number of cross thwarts, which also serve as seats for the rowers. The covering is made from the large skins of the Big seal (Phoca barbata), sewn together in a manner similar to the covering of the kyak. This craft is rowed by the women, usually with an old man as steersman. It is propelled by rude oars made from small trees, the handle being formed from the thick part, while the blades are made by attaching strips on two sides of the smaller end. Two or more women pull each oar, which vary in number from two to four.

The only place where such boats are known by the writer to be used is along the south side of Hudson strait and about Ungava bay. Elsewhere the whaleboat has been found more convenient, and when the planking is worn out they are covered with sealskin.

During the month of June the weather is generally fine, and ducks and geese are plentiful in the open water of the ponds and sea. The ice becomes very rotten towards the end of the month, and soon after breaks away from the shores, when the kyaks come into use. This is the most pleasant season of the year for the Eskimos, and they always sing about its pleasures in their sing-songs to be described later. Game of all kinds is abundant; the deer come to the coast at this season; seals are plentiful in the open water, and walruses are floating about on the loose ice; the Arctic salmon swarm in the shallow water along the coast, and thousands of eggs of the sea fowl may be collected from any of the smaller outer islands. A little later the white porpoise enters the mouths of the larger rivers in schools, and is killed with the harpoon and gun from the kyaks. The summer harpoon differs from the winter one, in that the iron work of the latter is replaced by ivory obtained from walrus tusks. The handle is stout, and made of wood from four to six feet long; at one end it is tipped with ivory, with a cone-like socket in its upper side, into which a similar cone on the lower end of the ivory shaft fits. The two are joined together by a thong of seal-line passing through holes in the ivory of each piece about two inches from their ends. This thong is made tight, and holds the cones in place while the harpoon is in use and until the head enters some animal, when the weight of the shaft causes the cones to slip and the shaft hangs loose from the wooden handle. The shaft is usually made from a single tusk, and is from twelve to eighteen inches long, but sometimes it is made by splicing two pieces, and they are joined by bands of lead run through mortised holes in the two pieces. The shaft in its lower end at the cone is usually over an inch in diameter, and tapers slowly to the upper end, where it is about a quarter of an inch thick. There is generally the natural curve of the tusk in the shaft, so that it is not quite straight. An ivory head fits the upper end of the shaft, and it is tipped by an arrow-pointed piece of iron, usually an old knife blade, let into a slit in the ivory and secured by rivets. The head is about four inches long, and is pierced near the middle for a seal-line attached to it. This line is several yards long, and is fastened at its outer end to a whole sealskin blown up to act as a float and drag to the animal harpooned. The head of the harpoon is kept in place by a loop on the line, which fits tightly over a peg on the side of the wooden handle when the head shaft and handle are adjusted in line. The harpoon is thrown at the seal, walrus or whale, and its weight is sufficient to drive the head completely through the skin; the cones between handle and shaft then turn and disjoint allowing the line to slip off the peg on the handle, so that the head separates from the remainder, which floats away. The sealskin bladder is thrown overboard, and after a few wild rushes the animal comes to the surface, dragging it along. The native then either shoots, or kills with the lance. The lance is somewhat similar in construction to the harpoon, but is without the head, the ivory shaft terminating in a wide steel blade usually cut out of a saw or large knife, and is without barbs.

The other weapon of the kyak is the duck dart used to entangle the eider ducks when they become fat and lazy in the late summer. This instrument consists of a light wooden shaft five or six feet long, with a trident of deer horn at its upper end. The pieces of horn are from six to eight inches long, and about half an inch in diameter; their sides are notched by a number of barbs pointing downwards, and they are so set at the head of the shaft as to project outwards at an angle of 45°, while each piece of horn makes an angle of 120° with its neighbours. Similar barbed prongs are attached to the shaft about a foot from the upper end. The lower end of the shaft is flattened, and made tapering to fit a groove in a throwing board held in the hand of the hunter. This dart is very skilfully thrown many yards, and entangles itself about the necks or in the wings of the ducks.

Summer Tents at Wakeham Bay.