lar to an old-fashioned mincemeat chopper.

The shaggy fur trousers are invariably made from the skins of the polar
bear. Then there are stockings of hareskin, and the _kamiks_, or boots,
of sealskin, soled with the heavier skin of the square-flipper seal. On
the ship, on sledge journeys, and in all the field work of the winter,
the regular footgear of the Eskimos was worn. Add the warm fur mittens,
and the winter wardrobe is complete.

It may reasonably be inquired whether the close housing for so long a
time of such a considerable number of human beings did not result in
personal friction, due to the inevitable accumulation of a thousand and
one petty irritations. To some extent it did. But the principal members
of the expedition were men of such character that they were able to
exercise an admirable self-restraint that prevented any unpleasant
results of consequence. Practically the only trouble of a personal sort
that was of any importance occurred between one of the sailors and an
Eskimo whom we called Harrigan.

Harrigan acquired this sobriquet on account of his ear for music. The
crew used to be fond of singing that energetic Irish air which was
popular for some years along Broadway and which concludes
ungrammatically with the words "Harrigan--that's me." The Eskimo in
question seemed fascinated by this song and in time learned those three
words and practised them with so much assiduity that he was ultimately
able to sing them in a manner not wholly uncouth.

In addition to his musical leanings, Harrigan was a practical joker, and
on one occasion he was exercising his humorous talents in the forecastle
to the considerable discomfort of one of the crew. Ultimately the
sailor, unable to rid himself of his persecutor in any other way,
resorted to the use of his fists. The Eskimos, while good wrestlers, are
far from adepts at the "manly art of self-defense," and the result was
that Harrigan emerged from the forecastle with a well-blackened eye and
a keen sense of having been ill used. He complained bitterly of his
treatment, but I gave him a new shirt and told him to keep away from the
forecastle where the sailors were, and in a few hours he had forgotten
it like a school boy, so that the affair passed off without leaving any
permanent ill feeling, and soon Harrigan was again cheerfully croaking
his "Harrigan--that's me."

CHAPTER XV

THE AUTUMN WORK

The main purpose of the autumn sledge parties was