k.

It proceeded with many interruptions from the Angekoks, who tried
more than once to bewitch him, but finally gave it up, convinced
that he was a great medicine-man himself, and therefore
invulnerable. But before that they tried to foment a regular mutiny,
the colony being by that time well under way, and Egede had to
arrest and punish the leaders. The natives naturally clung to them,
and when Egede had mastered their language and tried to make clear
that the Angekoks deceived them when they pretended to go to the
other world for advice, they demurred. "Did you ever see them go?"
he asked. "Well, have you seen this God of yours of whom you speak
so much?" was their reply. When Egede spoke of spiritual gifts, they
asked for good health and blubber: "Our Angekoks give us that."
Hell-fire was much in theological evidence in those days, but among
the Eskimos it was a failure as a deterrent. They listened to the
account of it eagerly and liked the prospect. When at length they
became convinced that Egede knew more than their Angekoks, they came
to him with the request that he would abolish winter. Very likely
they thought that one who had such knowledge of the hot place ought
to have influence enough with the keeper of it to obtain this favor.

It was not an easy task, from any point of view, to which he had put
his hands. As that first winter wore away there were gloomy days and
nights, and they were not brightened when, with the return of the
sun, no ship arrived from Denmark. The Dutch traders came, and
opened their eyes wide when they found Egede and his household safe
and even on friendly terms with the Eskimos. Pelesse--the natives
called the missionary that, as the nearest they could come to the
Danish _praest_ (priest)--Pelesse was not there after blubber, they
told the Dutchmen, but to teach them about heaven and of "Him up
there," who had made them and wanted them home with Him again. So he
had not worked altogether in vain. But the brief summer passed, and
still no relief ship. The crew of _Haabet_ clamored to go home, and
Egede had at last to give a reluctant promise that if no ship came
in two weeks, he would break up. His wife alone refused to take a
hand in packing. The ship was coming, she insisted, and at the last
moment it did come. A boat arriving after dark brought the first
word of it. The people ashore heard voices speaking in Danish, and
flew to Egede, who had gone to bed, with the news. The ship