an Mission stations also, practically every Eskimo was in debt
to them. In reality this caused a vicious circle, for it encouraged
directly the outstanding fault of the Eskimo, his readiness to leave
the morrow to care for itself so long as he does not starve to-day.
Like a race of children, they need the stimulus of necessity to make
them get out and do their best while the opportunity exists. In the
past twenty-six years I have made many voyages to one and another of
the stations of the Brethren, and have learned to love them all very
sincerely as individuals, though their mission policies are their own
and not mine.

I remember once in Nain the slob ice had already made ballicaters and
the biting cold of winter so far north had set in with all its vigour.
There was a heavy sea and a gale of wind. One of two boats which had
been out all day had not come in. The sea was so rough and the wind so
strong that the occupants of the first boat could not face it, and so
had run in under the land and walked all the way round, towing their
boat by a long line from the shore. Night came on and the second boat
had not appeared. Next morning the Nain folk knew that some accident
must have happened. Some men reported that the evening before they had
seen through a glass the boat trying to beat against the storm, and
then disappear. The Eskimos gathered together to see what could be
done and then decided that it was kismet--and went their way. The
following evening a tiny light was seen on the far shore of the
bay--some one must be alive there. There was no food or shelter there,
and it was obvious that help was needed. The gale was still blowing in
fury and the sea was as rough as ever, and Eskimos and missionaries
decided that in their unseaworthy boats they could do nothing. There
was one dissentient voice--Brother Schmidt; and he went and rescued
them. One was nearly spent. When their boat had capsized, one man, a
woman, and a lad had been drowned, but two men had succeeded in
getting into their kajaks and floated off when the disaster happened.

[Illustration: ESKIMO GIRLS]

With October came the necessity for returning South, and the long
dark nights spent at the little fishing stations as we journeyed from
place to place proved all too short. The gatherings for lantern
meetings, for simple services, for spinning yarns, together with
medicine and such surgery as we could accomplish under the
circumstances, made every mo