ately communicated
to the Esquimaux, who seemed to be peculiarly susceptible of the
disease. Being very fat and full-blooded, it had the most dreadful
effect on the poor creatures, and at a certain stage almost choked them.
At last one night it was reported that ten of their number had died
from absolute suffocation. All of these had been strong and robust, and
they died after two days' illness.

One of those who were attacked was Edith's little friend, Arnalooa, and
just before the ten Esquimaux died, Edith had gone down to the camp with
a present of beads to console her. She found her much better, and,
after talking to her for some time, she took her leave, promising to pay
her another visit next day. True to her promise, Edith sallied forth
after breakfast with a little native basket on her arm. About half an
hour afterwards, while Stanley was sitting in the hall with his wife and
Frank, they were startled by the sudden appearance of Edith, out of
breath from the speed with which she had run home, and her face
overspread with a deadly paleness.

"What is the matter, my darling?" cried her mother, starting up in
alarm.

"Oh! the Esquimaux are lying dead on the sand," gasped Edith, as she
laid her head on her mother's breast, "and the rest are all gone."

Without waiting to hear more, Frank and Stanley took down their guns and
hastened to the camp. Here a scene of the most horrible kind presented
itself. The whole camp exhibited evidences of a hasty flight, and eight
of the people who had died during the night were lying exposed on the
rocks, with their white faces and ghastly eyeballs turned towards the
sky. The other two had been buried on the rocks under a heap of stones,
which did not conceal them entirely from view.

"No wonder poor Edith was alarmed," said Stanley sadly, as he leaned on
his fowling-piece and surveyed the scene of desolation and death.

"I have been told," remarked Frank, "that the Esquimaux have a
superstitious dread of this river. Oolibuck mentioned to me this
morning that he has had a good deal of conversation with the natives
about this disease, and they told him that it invariably attacks them
when they enter this river, and carries them off by dozens; so that they
never come into it except when they require wood, and always stay as
short a time as possible."

"Ah! that's bad," said Stanley; "I fear that it will go much against the
success of the establishment. But we must h