and the knitting needles
kept rapidly flying. At eleven o'clock they went out into the intense
cold, which sparkled like diamonds, but which pinched like nippers the
exposed faces and hands.

Here is another cold, quiet day, with the thermometer at thirty-five
degrees below zero, and it is a first class one to spend by the fire. We
have read, slept, eaten, and fed the fires; with only one man, three
girls and myself in the house. At ten in the evening G. and B. came in
from a five days "mushing" trip on the trails, being nearly starved and
frozen. They were covered with snow and icicles, their shirts and coats
stiff with frost from steam of their bodies, as they ran behind the
sled to keep warm. A hot supper of chicken (canned), coffee, and bread
and butter was prepared in haste for them, and they toasted themselves
until bedtime.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE LITTLE SICK CHILD.

The winter is rapidly passing, and so far without monotony, though what
it will bring to us before spring remains to be seen. Little Jennie has
been suffering more and more with her leg of late, and her papa sent for
the doctor at White Mountain, who came today by dog-team. The child's
mother has had a spring cot made for her, and she was put to bed by the
doctor, who says the knee trouble is a very serious one, and she must
have good nursing, attention being also paid to her diet. The Eskimos
are all exceedingly fond of seal and reindeer meat, and Jennie's Auntie
Apuk or grandmother will often bring choice tidbits to the child at
bedtime, or between meals, when she ought not to eat anything, much less
such hearty food. When the little child sees the good things, she, of
course, wants them, and having been humored in every whim, she must
still be, she thinks, especially when she is ill. A problem then is here
presented which I may help to solve for them. Jennie and I are growing
very fond of each other, and she will do some things for me which she
will not do for others who have obeyed her wishes so long. I begin by
round-about coaxing and reasoning, and get some other idea into her
mind, until the plate of seal meat is partially forgotten, and does not
seem so attractive at nine in the evening as when presented with loving
smiles by her old grandmother, who does sometimes resent the
alternative, but is still exceedingly solicitous that the little girl
should recover. As grandmother understands English imperfectly, Mollie
is obliged to reite