w delighted she is to see her, after which the conversation is
carried on in the usual strain, or until mother number one commences to
tell what a great hunter her son is and how good he is. Then mother
number two remarks that her daughter is such a good sewer and knows how
to chew a beautiful boot sole. Mother number one declares that they are
never hungry in their iglo, as son is always so successful and brings
lots of seals home. Mother number two now remarks that daughter is such
a lovely cook, having taken lessons and knows how to cook everything.
(At the same time, she may consider herself fortunate if she has half a
sack of China flour in the house.) The conversation continues for a
while, each mother trying to present her side in its most favorable
light.

The father now arriving, and being suspicious of what is taking place,
will naturally try to be as agreeable as possible. He will relate some
old story that has been doing duty in the tribe for a number of
generations. Of course the women gather around and listen with a great
deal of interest, as if it was entirely new to them. Returning to
business, it is decided that the young man shall enter the family on a
sort of trial. If the girl turns up her nose and makes faces, he might
as well leave, as the match will never amount to anything; but should
she greet him with an occasional smile and allow him to sit by her side
in the evening, with his arm around her, it will be all clear sailing
and they will unite as husband and wife.

With older people courtship is different. They plead and arrange their
own affairs, usually without the assistance of a third party. As I have
watched these marriages, I could not help but think that they turn out
as happily as in any other section. Divorces, formerly so common, are
now far less frequent, and when the people marry it is usually for
life, most couples living together happily until parted by death.

XXII

THE WOOING OF BILLY FISHTAIL

There was a bond of sympathy between Billy and myself, for I had looked
upon him as a permanent bachelor, and he was always such a reliable
fellow. If I set him to whittling a bit of wood or to sawing a board,
he was sure soon to apply for a bandage to stop the flow of blood from
a wound. On trying to bore a hole through a board with a sharpened
knitting-needle, only the bone of his second finger prevented the
instrument from passing through that also. Even with the axe he was