her before. Her name was Tookoolito. She was the wife of Ebierbing, a rather famous seal-hunter and pilot. Seven years before a British whaler had taken them to England, where they were received as the lions of the day. They dined with Prince Albert, and were introduced to the Queen. Ebierbing thought that the Queen was "very pretty;" indeed she bore no very distant likeness to his own wife. Tookoolito thought Prince Albert was a "very kind, good man." Both agreed that the Queen had " a very fine place." Tookoolito, as many thousands in the United States afterwards had occasion to know, spoke English almost perfectly. Her husband was less fluent, but still quite intelligible. This pair became Hall's constant companions in the Arctic regions; came with him upon his return to the States, remained there with him for two years, and went back with him upon his second expedition, which now (September, 1869) is not completed.

Early in January Hall resolved to make an exploring expedition with the dog-team which he had bought at Holsteinborg. The party consisted of himself, Ebierbing, Tookoolito, and another Esquimaux, named Koodloo. The sledge was drawn by ten dogs-five of which belonged to Hall, and five to Ebierbing. They relied for food mainly upon the proceeds of their hunting, taking with them only a pound and a half of preserved mutton, three pounds of salt pork, fifteen pounds of sea-bread, three pounds of pork scraps for soup, and a little coffee, pepper, and molasses. The trip lasted nearly a month and a half, during which time Hall learned to live like the Esquimaux in their snow cabins, and subsisted mainly upon raw seal flesh. When he returned to the ship it was hard for him to accustom himself to the change from the pure atmosphere of a snow-house to the confined air of a small cabin.

Had Kane but known how to pass an Arctic winter, the world would never have had occasion to read one of the most pathetic accounts ever written of suffering. Buddington, the captain of the "George Henry," had learned the lesson by dear experience. Five years before, when in command of another vessel, he had lost thirteen of his men by scurvy. "But," said he, "I am not now afraid of losing any more men by scurvy while I have command over them. Whenever there are appearances of it on board, I will have every pork and beef barrel-salt provisions of every kind-headed up at once, and every man shall live upon bread and fresh provision, such as whale, walrus, seal, deer, bear, ptarmigan, duck, and the like. It is not a little remarkable that persons afflicted with scurvy seem madly inclined to salt provisions, which they know to be in their case absolute poisons. They will go any length to obtain salt pork, even when they have fresh food in abundance."

Hall's first night in an igloo may stand as a sample of many more. We cite, with much abridgment, from his journal:

"We encamped at 5 P.M., having found good material for building a snowhouse. Ebierbing and Koodloo at once commenced sawing out snow-blocks, while I carried them to a suitable spot for erecting the igloo, which took us one hour to make. As soon as it was completed Tookoolito entered, and commenced placing the stone lamp in its proper position. It was trimmed, and soon a kettle of snow was over it, making water for coffee and soup. She then placed several pieces of board, which we had brought with us, on the snow platform where our beds were to be made. Upon these were placed canvas and deer-skins, and our sleeping accommodations were complete. The drying of any thing that has become wet during the day falls to the lot of the woman.

suits their taste. Nothing comes amiss to them. On the third night Hall had his hair cut by Tookoolito, and the clippings were left on the floor. The dogs swallowed these, among other things. Stormy weather soon came on. There was no hunting or sealing, and the party had nothing to eat except some bits of raw, frozen whale's-skin which they found in a cache, which a party from the ship had made a few weeks before. Not far off was an igloo belonging to an Innuit named Ugarng, whom they knew. Hall went to it hoping to find something to eat. Ugarng had just come in, having spent two whole days and a night in watching over a seal-hole without success. He had heard the seal blow, and that was all. He bore his disappointment coolly. "Away I go tomorrow again," he said. He went next day, remained all night over the sealhole, and came back with nothing. "This was very bad for the whole of us," says Hall. How bad it was for the poor wife of Ugarng and her children may be inferred from her own words. They were without food or light; her infant was restless from hunger. She said simply, "Me got no milk, meat all gone, blubber too; nothing to eat, no heat; must wait till get seal."

Hall was about as near starvation as were the Innuits. All he had to eat was a bit of the "black skin" of a whale, and this he relished; he could have eaten any thing which would have gone to keep up internal heat, and make bone and flesh. Ebierbing was away hunting. At length Tookoolito managed to extemporize a warm dinner. From the black skin she tried out enough oil to fill the lamp and heat some snow-water. This was thickened with a couple of ounces left of a quart of meal which formed a part of the stores with which they set out. The pair shared the "pudding," and thought it excellent. The cold was severe. Within the dark igloo the thermometer stood at about zero; outside, 25° to 52° below zero. Under these circumstances Hall kept at his journal, sitting wrapped in furs to keep from freezing. So passed ten days. Ebierbing had gone back to the vessel in order to bring back some food. Day by day Hall went to the top of a hill, straining his eyes over the snowy waste in hope of seeing the approach of the messenger. On the evening of the 24th of January, fourteen days after their starting upon the expedition, they were reduced to their last ration of food, which was a piece of black skin two inches long, an inch and a half wide, and three-quarters of an inch thick.

At midnight footsteps were heard approaching; Hall sprang from his bed

and opened the snow-block door. There was "Jack," an Innuit, who had gone out on a hunt, with his spear strung with strips of seal-blubber. Hall's favorite dog had been allowed to sleep in the igloo. The half-starved creature scented the blubber, gave a desperate leap, and grasped a portion of the food, and in spite of all the efforts of Hall and the others swallowed it. Before the door could be closed all the other dogs outside were aroused, and fighting for a share. Among them they got nearly the whole. Next morning Hall went out,

and gazing in the direction from which the approach of Ebierbing was hoped for, saw something black moving over the snow. It was Ebierbing with dogs. and a sledge, loaded with provisions from the ship, and also with a seal which he had caught that morning. A great seal-feast took place at once, which Hall thus describes:

"According to Innuit custom, an immediate invitation was given by the successful hunter's family for every one to attend a seal-feast. Our igloo was soon crowded. My station was on the dais, or bed-place, so that I could watch what was going on. The first thing done was to consecrate the blubber by sprinkling water over it. Then our host proceeded to separate the blubber and skin from the meat and skeleton of the seal. The body was then opened, and the blood scooped out. The blood is considered very precious. The liver came next, cut into pieces and eaten raw, I getting a share. Then followed distributing the ribs, for social picking, also eaten raw, I doing my duty, and becoming quite an Innuit in all except in the quantity eaten. This I might challenge any white man to do. No human stomach but an Innuit's could possibly

hold what I saw these men and women devour. When the feast was ended, the company dispersed. Tookoolito then sent around bountiful gifts of sealblubber for fire-lamps, also some seal-meat and blood. This is the usual custom among the Innuits. They share each other's success, and bear each other's wants. Generally if it is found that one is short of provisions, it may be known that all are so."

The manner in which Ebierbing secured that precious seal is a striking example of Innuit patience. On his way to the ship the dogs discovered a sealhole. He marked the spot by making a small pile of snow close by, and squirting a mouthful of tobacco-juice upon it by way of mark. On his return he found the hole, and determined to try to secure the animal. So wrapping his feet and legs in furs taken from the sledge, he took his position, spear in hand, over the seal-hole. It was buried two feet deep under the snow. He thrust his spear through the snow again and again until he found the little aperture leading through the ice; then in the dark night he seated himself close by, waiting to hear the blowing of the seal. Towards morning the welcome sound was heard. One well-aimed thrust of the spear secured the prize. Ebierbing was nearly frozen, his nose being frostbitten; but he suffered more from thirst than from cold. There was indeed snow all around, but in that intense cold the mouth does not retain sufficient caloric to melt a piece of snow placed in it. His first call when he reached the igloo was for water. To watch all night at a seal-hole would seem to be a sufficient trial of patience and endurance; but Hall notes another time when Ebierbing passed two whole days and nights without food by a hole, and then failed to secure the seal.

To the Innuit the seal is, in the broadest sense, the staff of life. It is to them all that flocks and herds, grain-fields, forests, coal mines, and petroleum wells are to dwellers in more favored lands. It furnishes to them food, fuel, and clothing. The seal is the most wary and suspicious of creatures; to capture him demands a patience and dexterity which throws into the shade all the exploits of deer-stalkers and lion-hunters. "Nutchook," for so the Innuits name the seal, has good reason for wariness, for his chief enemy, "Ninoo," the bear,