then a barrel stave and a boy, sometimes little
Pete, and sometimes John. One barrel stave would hold only one coaster,
and there were usually enough for the boys, but if by chance the little
girls laid hands upon the sleds before they did, the staves were then
their only resource. If a child rolled, by accident, upon the ground, it
never seemed to matter, for in furs he was well protected. The snow was
soft, and he, being as much at home there as anywhere, seemed rather to
like it.

If he was seen to fall, it was the signal for some other to roll and
tumble him, keeping him under as long as possible, and it was a frequent
sight to see three or four small boys tumbling about like kittens,
locked in each other's arms, and all kicking and shouting
good-naturedly. Snowballing, too, was their delight, and their balls
were not always velvety, either, as the one stopping its course could
affirm.

These children did little quarreling. I cannot remember seeing Eskimo
boys angry or fighting, a thing quite noticeable among them, for nowhere
in the world, perhaps, could the same number of white children be found
living so quietly and harmoniously together as did these twelve little
dark-faced Eskimos in the Mission.

Our days were now growing much shorter, and it was necessary to light
the lamps at four o'clock in the afternoon, the sun having set some time
before. The sunset skies were lovely in bright and tender colors,
reflecting themselves as they did in the water of the bay, and tinting
delicately all surrounding hilltops. What a beautiful sight it was, and
how sadly we remembered that very soon the water would have disappeared
under the solid ice, there to remain for long months imprisoned. Little
did we then know that the heavenly beauty of the Arctic sky is never
lacking, but close upon the departure of one season, another, no less
beautiful, takes its place.

Diary of October twenty-sixth: Alma and I called today upon two
neighbors in the old schoolhouse next the church, by name Dr. H. and
wife. They claim to have come from Dawson not very long ago, being
shipwrecked on the way, and losing their outfit. She seems a chatty,
pleasant little body, and inclined to make the best of everything, her
hard lot included, and she is baking and selling bread to the miners.
She is a brave little woman, and could teach many a pampered and
helpless one lessons of great usefulness and patience. Miss L. is ill
with quincy and suffer