wife stood by him while I measured out the drill, powder, ball, and tobacco, and, as I gave him the required quantity of each, would exclaim, "It is too little, we must have more!" I was very much provoked, but there was no way in which I could help myself, and I was obliged to satisfy her avarice, and make her a present besides, while wishing her at the bottom of the sea. I then loaded the boat, but she was so dry that the water came in at all the seams, and I was obliged to unload her again. It was evident that I must leave a large part of my load at the village, and send back for it. I was very loath to do this, as the Kegiktówruk men are notorious thieves; but there was no help for it. Having picked out the most valuable part of the cargo, including the flour, sugar, tea, lead, and powder, I placed the rest in charge of the old man to whom the boat belonged. I then loaded up for the third time, after greasing the seams with tallow. This day's experience will give a faint idea of the annoyances sometimes endured, and the patience required, in travelling among these natives.

That afternoon an old acquaintance arrived, - a Máhlemut called Ark-hánnok, and his family. His bidarrá was so full that he could not take any goods for me, but he promised to send back his men and boat from Unalaklík, to fetch the goods I left behind. In the evening the absent Káviak returned with two haunches of venison on his back, having killed a deer. We had a good supper off them, and retired early. The next morning I rose at four o'clock and found the wind fair. We boiled the chynik and took a hasty breakfast, getting off about six. Our boat was very low, her gunwale amidships being only four inches above the water. She was so narrow and crank that we were obliged to lash a kyak alongside with two oars, as an outrigger. Even then the Innuit were unwilling to sail from point to point, but insisted on hugging the shore.

The wind was light, and we only reached Golsóva River by noon. We rounded Tolstoi Point with a fair breeze. At Topánika we landed, and found a Máhlemut chief, called Ark-na-pýak, camped with his family. Here we drank tea, and took on board a lad about twelve years old, whom we had named Tommy the previous year. He wished to go to Unalaklik, and to oblige the natives I offered him a passage. We started about three

o'clock, with a strong breeze from the southwest, wind coming in puffs with intervals. The water was perfectly smooth, and we sailed finely for some time. The wind grew stronger rapidly, and soon raised a sea which made me anxious. The tide was high, and the perpendicular sandstone bluffs rose direct from the water, the narrow beach being covered. There was no opportunity for landing until the bluffs were passed. The waves began to don their white caps, and occasionally tossed a handful of spray in our faces, as a foretaste of what was coming. I resigned the steering-paddle into the more experienced hands of old NewYears, and stood by him with another, in case that should break. I distributed tin cups to all hands, as I knew we should have to use them very soon in bailing.

The end of the bluffs was passed, but to my dismay I saw the long low beach piled with driftwood, forming an impenetrable chevaux-de-frise at high-water mark. Against it the waves were dashing. There was no choice but to go on. It was rapidly growing dark, but the mouth of the river was discernible. We managed, by constant bailing, to keep her free, though every tenth wave would throw in a dozen bucketfuls. The worst was yet to come. I knew that the sea would be breaking on the bar at the mouth of the Unalaklík River, where there is seldom over five feet of water. The only question was, could we pass through that line of breakers in safety? I hardly dared to hope we could. We already heard them roaring on the bar, and could see their white caps dimly. We were all so thoroughly drenched that we could be no wetter. The old Máhlemut never flinched. With his eye on the breakers, as we drew nearer and nearer, he sat silent and rigid as a carved image. The younger men crouched in the bottom of the boat. The little Eskimo lad looked frightened, but did not stop bailing for a moment. I threw off my hunting-shirt, and made ready for swimming. As we were just upon the breakers I glanced at the steersman. muscle of his weather-beaten face. The next announced that our outriggers were broken. I threw myself upon the kyak and, with the young Káviak, held it for a moment in place. The crest of the advancing roller struck us on the stern, deluging us with water, and before I had time to realize it another followed it, almost burying us; and for a second I thought

He moved not a moment a crash