here some
years ago, and in this we took up our abode. The building had one
drawback; although its walls were stout enough a roof was lacking, and
our tent was a poor substitute. However, the place was cleaned out and
made fairly cosy with our rugs, furs and four sleds which were used as
bunks. Then came a serious difficulty, artificial warmth, which, without
a roof, was sorely needed at night. Teneskin's trading goods comprised a
small iron cooking stove, which seemed to be the very thing, with plenty
of drift-wood about, and which Stepan, with Cossack promptitude, annexed
without leave. But an hour later Yemanko rushed into the hut, pale with
rage, and without a word seized our treasure and carried it away. Things
looked even more ugly when very shortly afterwards the Chief,
accompanied by a crowd of natives, entered our dwelling, with Billy as
spokesman in their midst. Then amidst frequent interruptions from the
Chief the mystery was explained. It appeared that a superstition exists
amongst these people that if a cooking place is used by strangers in a
hut belonging to the father of a newly born child, the latter dies
within a _moon_ or month. Teneskin's family had recently received an
addition which was the cause of our trouble, but during the height of
the argument, Stepan quietly seated himself beside me and whispered the
word "Mauser," which reminded me that our host had cast longing eyes on
a rifle in my possession. Much as I prized it a fire was essential, and
the rifle had to go; which it did without delay, for Teneskin, once
possessed of the precious weapon, the baby, to use a sporting
expression, was knocked out at a hundred to one! The stove was replaced
by willing hands with one proviso: that only the Chief's pots and pans
were to be used for the preparation of our food, which proved that a
Tchuktchi is not unlike some Christians in the soothing of his
conscience.

As the spring wore on, strong gales accompanied by storms of sleet drove
us to seek the warmth and filth of Teneskin's residence, which was of
walrus hide, about forty feet round and fifteen feet high in the centre.
The only aperture for light and air was a low doorway. There was a large
outer chamber for fishing and hunting tackle where dogs roamed about,
and inside this again a small dark inner room, called the _yaranger_,
formed of thick deerskins, where the family ate and slept. In here
seal-oil lamps continually burning make it average abo