probably could not accomplish to-day. The people
watched them as they worked their way over the beach, the large ones
making rapid progress while the small ones were very slow.

The Killer is one of the larger members of the whale family, which the
natives prefer not to attack, as it can be very vicious at times. Even
much further south than Alaska, the creature has the reputation among
the shore whalemen, of chasing the boats to the shore occasionally and
has had many victims. Its chief food is the seal and beluga, while its
sly disposition enables it also to capture the water birds. Placing
itself just beneath the surface, with open jaws, it emits a substance
that attracts the birds who settle down on the waves and begin feeding;
the Killer then darts forward, capturing the birds which it quickly
devours. It is also said sometimes to attack as large an animal as the
Fin-back.

III

THE METIGEWEK

The Metigew[=e]k was the largest of the numerous traditionary birds of
Tigara. Its enormous size and strength enabled it to seize and bear to
the interior the whales on which it used to feed. Even to-day when the
older inhabitants find the skeleton of a whale, back from the coast in
the interior of the country, they declare it was the victim of a
Metigew[=e]k at some remote time of the past.

One of the earlier inhabitants has been credited with a somewhat
similar experience to that of Ganymede.

A hunter having killed a deer was in the act of cutting it up
preparatory to carrying it home. Noticing a shadow coming over the
ground, he looked up just as a Metigew[=e]k swooped down and seized him
in its enormous claws and bore him aloft. The bird carried him to a
great height, so that the earth was almost lost to view. The man having
retained his spear began stabbing the bird; at last the wounds proving
fatal, the Metigew[=e]k gradually descended and reached the earth just
as it expired. That night the hunter slept under the wing of the bird,
ultimately reaching his home in safety.

IV

ORIGIN OF MAN

There is a fascination at the camp-fire. Men that have remained silent
through the day will become entertaining under the genial influence of
the crackling logs as they blaze and send their myriads of sparks
skyward. So this evening as I examine the notes in my Polar log-book,
collected at many of those fires, I find that man, no matter how
humiliating the admission may be, is forced to yield the palm o