














[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic
text is surrounded by _underscores_.]



Our Little Eskimo Cousin




The Little Cousin Series

_ILLUSTRATED_

[Illustration]


BY MARY HAZELTON WADE

    =Our Little Japanese Cousin=
    =Our Little Brown Cousin=
    =Our Little Indian Cousin=
    =Our Little Russian Cousin=
    =Our Little African Cousin=
    =Our Little Cuban Cousin=
    =Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
    =Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
    =Our Little Philippine Cousin=
    =Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
    =Our Little Swiss Cousin=
    =Our Little Norwegian Cousin=
    =Our Little Siamese Cousin=
    =Our Little Italian Cousin=
    =Our Little Irish Cousin=
    =Our Little Turkish Cousin=
    =Our Little German Cousin=
    =Our Little Jewish Cousin=


BY ISAAC TAYLOR HEADLAND

    =Our Little Chinese Cousin=


BY ELIZABETH ROBERTS MACDONALD

    =Our Little Canadian Cousin=

[Illustration]

    Each volume illustrated with six full-page plates
    in tint, from drawings by L. J. Bridgman.

    Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover, per volume,
    60 cents.

[Illustration]

    L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
    New England Building, Boston, Mass.

[Illustration: ETU]




Our Little Eskimo Cousin

    By
    Mary Hazelton Wade

    _Illustrated by_
    L. J. Bridgman

    [Illustration]

    Boston
    L. C. Page & Company
    _MDCCCCII_




    _Copyright, 1902_
    By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
    (INCORPORATED)

    _All rights reserved_


    Published, June 1902


    Colonial Press
    Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
    Boston, Mass., U. S. A.




Preface


IT is a very wonderful thing, when we stop to think of it, that no
matter where we are placed in this great round world of ours, it seems
just right to us.

Far away in the frozen north, where the lovely aurora borealis dances
in the sky, where the long sunless winter night stretches halfway
across the year, live a people who cannot keep themselves alive without
working very hard. Yet they are happy and fun-loving. They _make_
pleasures for themselves. They are patient and joyous in the midst of
darkness and storm. They do not think of complaining at their hard lot,
or that they do not live where Nature is kinder and more generous.

We call them Eskimos. They belong to another race than ours,--a
different branch of the great human family. They are yellow and we are
white, to be sure. But we know that, no matter how far away any race of
people lives, and no matter how different these people may be from us
in looks and habits, they and we belong to the same great family. It
includes every race and every colour, for we are the children of one
Father.

What a pleasure it is, therefore, to travel from place to place and
see more of the life of others! But suppose we cannot journey with our
bodies; we need not stay at home on that account. Let us use the wings
of the mind, and without trouble or expense visit the hot lands and the
cold, the yellow children and the red. Let us know them and learn what
they can teach us.




Contents


    CHAPTER                      PAGE
       I. BABY DAYS                 9
      II. MOTHER AND CHILD         18
     III. PLAY-DAYS                28
      IV. DOG TEAM AND SLEDGE      38
       V. KAYAK AND HARPOON        49
      VI. THE SEAL HUNT            63
     VII. FEAST AND FUN            74
    VIII. HARD TIMES               80
      IX. AN ESKIMO CHRISTMAS      91
       X. SUMMER TRAVELS           97




List of Illustrations


                                                               PAGE
  ETU                                                 _Frontispiece_
  "HE WHO HITS THE GREATEST NUMBER WINS THE GAME"                31
  "ETU HAD BECOME QUITE SKILFUL"                                 41
  "WHIZZ! SOUNDS THE HARPOON AS IT SPEEDS FROM ETU'S SHOULDER"   67
  "ETU STOPPED MOVING AND LAY QUITE STILL"                       89
  "THE BLOCKS OF SNOW WERE HANDED TO THEM"                       98




Our Little Eskimo Cousin




CHAPTER I.

BABY DAYS.


A PAIR of very bright black eyes peered out from the mother's hood that
winter morning. The thermometer, if there had been one, would have
shown the temperature to be seventy degrees below the freezing point.

Yet baby Etu did not seem to care. He was nestled so warmly in the
heavy furs, and felt so safe on his mother's broad back, that he
laughed and crowed in pure delight.

It was his first ride since he was born, and there was so much to look
at! At least he thought so, though great sheets of snow stretched
outward to the frozen ocean, and covered the land in every direction.
The twinkling stars gave the only light for Etu to see by, yet it was
daytime. It was that part of the twenty-four hours when the baby's
people did their work; and that must be called day in Etu's far
northern country, even though darkness covers all the land.

For Etu lives in the frozen zone, on the shores of northern Alaska,
and during the long winter of eight months the sun shows his face very
little above the horizon.

Here and there the snow looked as if it had been raised into low
mounds. Near these mounds holes could be seen in the ground, and
pathways dug out between them. There were no trees, no fences, no roads.

Where was the village, and where was the baby's home? Those holes
marked the entrances to the winter houses built by Etu's father and
his neighbours. The mounds were the coverings of the houses. Great pits
had been dug in the earth, and lined with driftwood which had floated
on to the shore. Jaws of whales made the framework of the roofs, these
being covered with sods cut out of the marshy plains in summer. Mother
Nature did the rest by protecting all with a warm close blanket of snow.

At first it makes one shudder to think of living in such homes during
the long Arctic winter. But the Eskimos are satisfied, and feel so
comfortable that they remove a great part of their clothing while they
are indoors. The houses are made so snug that the sharpest winds cannot
enter, and they cost nothing but the labour of making them.

Etu's mother allowed him to stay out only a few minutes this first
time. She soon turned toward home, and coming to her own doorway
crawled down through a long slanting tunnel in the ground, eight or
ten feet long. When she reached the end, she was obliged to stoop even
lower, for now she must pass upwards through another passage. Lifting a
trap-door, she stepped at once into the middle of her own home.

Why was there such a queer entrance? Because the wind must be kept out
at all hazards. After all, it seemed easy and natural enough to this
woman who had never known other and pleasanter hallways.

How close it seemed after the fresh cold air outdoors! There was a
strong odour of smoking oil. It was noisy, too, as other women and
children were moving around inside, for the house was shared in common
by several families who were friendly to each other, and enjoyed living
together.

Etu's mother quickly took off her outer coat of sealskin, and, lifting
her baby out of his warm nest, placed him on a platform which
stretched along one side of the room. What a round, smiling dumpling
he was! His face was broad and flat, while his little nose looked as
though it had been punched inwards. His bright eyes were quite narrow.

He wore a curious skin cap drawn tightly over the top of his head. He
must keep this on night and day for a year, at least. It would make his
forehead taper upward, and that is a mark of beauty among his people.
As soon as he was born, the top of his head was pressed between his
nurse's hands, and the cap fitted on at once so that his head might
grow in the proper shape. After that operation he was taken outdoors,
and rolled in the snow. I suppose that was to get him used to the cold
climate of his birthplace. Don't you?

Baby Etu's skin was much whiter than his mother's,--very nearly as
white, in fact, as your own little brother's. Why has he changed so
much since he has grown to be a big boy? Listen to the strange reason.

When our Eskimo cousin was born, there was a small dark spot on his
back. Day by day it grew larger; the change came very slowly, so slowly
it could scarcely be noticed. But at last the darker colour had spread
over the boy's whole body, till his skin was nearly like that of his
father and mother.

In course of time it would grow darker still, because he did not
wash himself. Please don't be shocked. It is _so_ hard to get water
in that frozen land. Snow must first be melted, and to do this heat
is required. Heating requires the burning of oil, and oil is very
precious. It is scarcely any wonder, therefore, that Etu has not been
taught to be cleanly in all ways.

The smoky air of the home during the long winter months also made
the boy's skin grow darker. Sometimes during his babyhood his mother
would wash him as a mother cat washes her kittens, but that was all
he has ever known of the delights of a bath. The mother-love made that
pleasant, perhaps, but we cannot envy him.

It was quite surprising to an Arctic explorer some years ago, when he
discovered the difference soap and warm water would make in an Eskimo's
appearance.

"Why, you are almost a white man," he exclaimed, "your friends will
think you have been changed into another being by some magical spell."
And he laughed heartily when he thought of the only magic being soap
and water.

Etu tumbled about on the sealskins which covered the platform, watching
his mother while she trimmed the wick of the lamp. What an odd-looking
lamp it was! It was made of a crescent-shaped stone hollowed out. Think
of the labour of making it! It must have taken days, and even weeks,
before the cavity was hollowed enough to hold the oil. But Etu's
people are such patient workers they do not worry over the time they
spend.

Moss was built up around the sides of the lamp; it served for the wick
which spluttered away as the oil burned and warmed the room. A lump of
seal fat, or blubber as it is called, hung over the lamp. As it melted
slowly in the heat, it dripped down into the cavity and furnished a
steady supply of oil.

There were two other lamps burning in Etu's home, for you must remember
there was a very large family living here. And these queer lamps not
only gave light and warmth to all these people, but the cooking must
also be done over them.

Etu watched the light with blinking eyes for a few moments, and then
fell fast asleep. Only think of it, he was nearly naked! There was no
covering on his tiny body except a short skirt of fur,--his arms and
legs were quite bare, yet his loving mother did not hurry to cover him
over. He must get used to cold while he was still small, so that when
he grew older he could bear exposure better.




CHAPTER II.

MOTHER AND CHILD.


THE mother was proud that this first baby was a boy. She liked to dream
of what a great hunter he would become. In a few years he would do his
part to keep the wolf from the door, in more senses than one. He would
bring home the seal, the walrus, now growing so scarce, the grim white
bear, and make many a feast for his people. Oh, no, girls could never
do such things as these! She was a happy woman, indeed.

This Eskimo mother had a pleasant, sunny face, even though the chin was
tattooed with three long lines from the mouth downwards. She firmly
believed that it would be looked upon as a sign of goodness, when she
reached the next world. It might help in bringing her to heaven.

The work was done by her own hands and must have been quite painful.
The sinew of a reindeer furnished the thread which she blackened with
soot. Fastening it in her bone needle, she drew it under and through
the skin till the lines were plainly marked. They would stay that way
as long as she lived.

She bustled about at her work without fuss or hurry. More than once
the children playing in the room got in her way, but she did not scold
nor even look cross. Now and then a hungry-looking dog poked his head
up through the doorway, only to be chased out of sight again when
discovered. As she worked she joined in the laughter and talk of the
women.

Hark! the sound of many feet could be heard, and the women and children
stopped their chatter to welcome the men of the household, who had
been away on a bear hunt for many hours.

"What luck? What luck?" all said at once, but there was no story of
brave fighting to tell this night; the long march over the icy plains
had met with no reward. But there was no danger of starving at present,
for great dishes of smoking seal soup stood ready for the hunters.

In a few minutes all the household were squatting on the floor around
the bowls. They ate the delicious supper to their hearts' content; and
how they did eat! It seemed as though their stomachs must be made of
elastic, for otherwise how were they able to stow away such immense
quantities of the rich, fatty food?

With Etu's people it is either a feast or a famine all the time. They
have no regular time to eat, no such thing as breakfast, dinner, and
supper. If there is a good supply of food on hand, they will keep on
eating hour after hour in a way to fill other people with wonder. But
if there is nothing in the larder they are able to go several days
without eating; yet they seem to keep well and strong.

All were satisfied at last, and baby Etu waked up in time to be held
and petted for a while before bedtime.

His mother did not have any dishes to wash, but before she could settle
herself for the night she had to arrange a net over the seal-oil lamp,
and spread her husband's wet clothing in it to dry. She must rouse
herself during the night to watch and turn it from time to time, for
that is a woman's work, she has been taught.

But where were all these people going to stow themselves for sleeping?
There was no sign of a bed in the whole house. That question was easily
settled, for a portion of the platform was set aside for each family.
They arranged their fur rugs upon it, and crept in side by side.
Then, taking off all their clothing, they buried themselves under the
warm covers. First in order lay the father of a family, next came the
mother, and close to her the youngest child was always nestled.

Baby Etu slept, warm and safe, that night and many afterward. Not once
during the long winter did he cry from colic.

As soon as he was able to sit up alone his mother gave him lessons
in what he needed most,--strength of body, and ease in moving every
muscle. She would sit on the floor or platform and stretch out her
legs in front of her. Then she would brace Etu against her feet, and,
holding his hands, would bend his arms in every possible direction. Now
they must be stretched upwards, now to the right, the left, behind him,
and so on. This would make him agile in hunting.

As soon as the baby could walk he began to have other exercises for his
legs, for he must make a good runner and dancer, also.

As soon as Etu began to take more notice of those around him, he
received many presents of toys. There were animals carved out of
ivory,--tiny whales and walruses, baby seals and reindeer. He could not
break them easily. They were fine things to press against his aching
gums when the first teeth pushed themselves into sight. If he had been
a girl he would have had an ivory doll, with a little dress of mouse
skin, but, of course, a boy would not care for such a plaything. It was
not to be thought of.

Soon the time came for his first suit of clothes, and, oh, how many
days of patient work his mamma spent on those little garments!

In the first place, there must be some long stockings of reindeer skin,
so made that the hairy side lay next his body. After that came socks
of the skin taken from eider-ducks. And outside of all he must wear
stout boots of sealskin with soles of thick whale hide. He must draw
these up to his hips over his two pairs of deerskin trousers, just as
his father and mother themselves did. His jacket was made of reindeer
skin, with a warm hood fastened to it to draw over his head while
outdoors in the searching winds. It had no buttons either before or
behind, but fitted quite loosely.

Some one asks: "How did he get into this garment, since there were no
openings except for the neck and sleeves?" He slipped it down over his
head, as American boys put on their jerseys. The skin had been tanned
and stretched and softened so beautifully by his mother that it was
quite easy to do this.

The baby's jacket was shaped round exactly like his father's, while his
mother's had a long pointed tail both in front and behind. Besides
this difference, her own jacket is always trimmed with a fringe of
coloured beads bought of the traders. This fringe reaches around the
neck, and also around both of the tails. It is very beautiful, her
neighbours all declare.

It seems quite wonderful to us that Etu's boots could be perfectly
water-tight, although they were home-made. This Eskimo mother is such a
fine seamstress with her coarse needle and thread, that a drop of water
cannot enter the skin boots after her work is done.

When his first suit was entirely finished, and Etu was dressed, he was
ready for the coldest weather. As soon as he could walk easily, he
had no more need to ride in the warm hood on his mother's back. There
were times before this, however, when he cried with the cold even in
that snug place, and his mother had been obliged to stop in her walk,
loosen her jacket, and slip the baby inside of all her clothing next to
her own warm body. After that the crying would stop, and Etu would coo
softly as the two went on their way.

How many things had to be done before the baby's suit was finished! In
the first place, his papa must kill the animals which furnished the
warm skins. But when that was done, _his_ work was over. It was his
wife's turn now. She removed the skins from the dead reindeer and seal,
and stretched them out to dry, with the hairy side toward the earth.

After a few days they were ready for her to begin the hardest part of
the task. They must be scraped with a sharp knife until every atom of
flesh should be removed, as well as the inner tough skin. Now they were
flexible enough for all the clothing except the stockings, and these
must be very soft indeed for the tender baby feet. A piece of the skin
of a baby deer was chosen by the careful mother, who next proceeded to
chew it, inch by inch. Her teeth were beautifully white and sharp, but
the work was done so carefully that no hole, nor even mark, could be
seen in the skin when it was finished.

She was ready now to cut out the various garments with her odd
scissors,--but, after all, it is wrong to call the queer knife she
uses by the name of scissors. She speaks of it as an "oodlo," and it
is useful in so many ways, she really could not keep house without it.
It is shaped much like your mother's meat-chopper. It is made of bone
edged with iron, and when Etu's mother cuts with it, she moves it away
from her in a way which looks very awkward to us. It not only takes the
place of scissors, but is the hatchet, the knife, and also scraper with
which the flesh is removed from the skins.




CHAPTER III.

PLAY-DAYS.


MONTH after month passed by with baby Etu. The little round ball grew
into a sturdy boy, who delighted in rough plays outdoors, as well as
many indoor games, when the storms raged too greatly for him to leave
the house.

His mother never refused him anything possible to get. He was never
scolded or punished, so it is no wonder he grew up kind and honest and
truthful. And laugh? Why, you can't imagine how many things there are
for Eskimo children to laugh about. In that cold and dreary land one
would expect to see long faces, and hear people constantly groaning
and complaining; but, instead of that, these people of the far north
may be said to be ever "on the grin," as travellers there have often
expressed it.

And Etu was like the rest of his people. He was always finding some
new source of fun and pleasure. When he was still a tiny baby, left to
amuse himself on the platform inside the house, he would watch for the
dogs to appear in the passageway, and throw his ivory toys at them.
Then he would laugh and shake his sides as they dodged the play-things
and scampered away.

Sometimes one of the older children would bring him a ball of snow or
ice and teach him to kick it into the air again and again, without
touching it with his hands, yet keeping it in motion all the time.

When he grew older and braver he allowed himself to be tossed up in the
air in a blanket of walrus hide. He must keep on his feet all the time,
and not tumble about in the blanket. After awhile he could go almost
to the roof and back again, holding himself as straight as a little
soldier.

[Illustration: "HE WHO HITS THE GREATEST NUMBER WINS THE GAME"]

Of course he slid down-hill and had any amount of sport, but the
sled was generally the seat of his own deerskin trousers. He and his
playmates liked to start from the top of an icy hill, and vie with each
other in reaching the foot.

Sometimes the little fellows would double themselves up so they looked
like balls of fur, then down the hill they would roll, over and over,
one after another. And when they reached the bottom and jumped upon
their feet, what a shouting there would be as they shook themselves and
brushed off the snow!

Now that Etu is a big boy, he plays still another game on the snowy
hillsides. His father has killed a great number of reindeer, and the
boy is allowed to have all the antlers he wishes. When the boys want to
play the reindeer game, as we may call it, they set up the antlers
in the snow, a short distance apart from each other. Then they climb
the hill again, and, seating themselves on their sleds, slide down past
the antlers. They must steer clear of them and reach the foot without
running into a single one. At least, that is the game, and the ones who
do so successfully are the winners.

But what kind of a sled do you think Etu uses? It is simply a cake of
ice; if you stop to think a moment, you can imagine how swiftly and
smoothly it travels along.

There is a still different game of reindeer-hunting which requires more
skill.

This time Etu and his playfellows arm themselves with bows and arrows.
As they coast rapidly past the reindeer antlers, they shoot at them
and try to leave their arrows fixed in as many as possible. Of course,
he who hits the greatest number wins the game. This is exciting sport
indeed, and Etu will go home afterward ready to eat such a quantity of
frozen seal blubber as to make the eyes of any one but an Eskimo open
wide with wonder.

Eskimo, I just said; but Etu does not call himself by that name. He
will tell you that he is one of the Innuits, as his father has taught
him. The word "Innuit" means "people."

Etu's mother has told him of an old, old legend of her race, about the
creation of the world. At first human beings were made white, but they
were not worthy of their Maker. Then others were created who were the
true people, or the Innuits.

The word Eskimo means "eater of raw fish." It was given to these
natives of the far north by the travellers who came among them and
observed their queer ways of living and eating.

"Raw meat! Raw fish!" they exclaimed among themselves. "These are
indeed queer people who enjoy such food in a freezing climate."

So it came about that they spoke of them as Eskimos, and the name has
clung to Etu's people ever since.

The boy remembers well his first candy. He had been ill, but was
getting strong once more. His good patient mother wished to bring
a smile to his pale face, so while he was sleeping she prepared a
surprise.

She took the red feet of a bird called the dovekie, and, drawing out
the bones, blew into the skin until it was puffed out as full as
possible. Then she poured melted reindeer fat into these bright-colored
pouches, and the candy-bags were finished.

Etu's eyes grew suddenly bright when they opened upon the surprise
prepared for him. It did not take many minutes, you may well believe,
for every bit of this odd candy to disappear. You may like chocolate
creams and cocoanut cakes, and think them the greatest treat in the
world, but in Etu's opinion there is nothing better than a big lump of
seal blubber or the marrow from the inside of a deer's bones.

When he had his first bow and arrow, it was a very tiny one. He learned
to shoot at a target inside his winter home. His mother would hang up
pieces of fat meat across the room where he sat, and he would try very
hard to pierce them. If he succeeded, he could have the meat to eat, so
of course he tried very hard.

At other times he would sit watching for a dog to push his head up
through the doorway, and let fly the arrow at him. At first this seems
like a very cruel sport, but the arrow was blunted and very small; it
could not do much harm, even if it struck the dog, who would bound away
out of sight only to appear again in a few moments.

Of course, Etu has played ball all his life, but his ball is of a
different kind from yours. It is made of sealskin. Sometimes he will
try with other boys to knock it about so continually that it is kept
in the air for a long, long time without falling. At other times all
engage in a grand game of football, but, according to their ideas, the
children must on no account touch the ball with their hands. That would
be a "foul play," as you boys would say. By their rules it can only be
kicked.

In the long winter evenings there is still more fun. In Etu's big
household old and young gather around the dim, smoky lamp and tell
stories. There are such wonderful adventures to relate of daring deeds
on sea and land. Etu listens breathless to tales of the white bear
surprised in his den, of long tramps after prey, when life depended
on fresh supplies, and King Frost was striving to seize the weakened
bodies of the hunters.

Then there are quaint legends and fairy tales, besides stories of
wondrous beings in the unseen world around. Some of these beings are
good, and some bad. Etu does not like to hear about these last, and
tries to put them out of his mind when he is travelling alone.

But the evenings are not wholly given to story-telling, for the people
are fond of music. They like dancing, also, for it makes them feel
jolly and gay. They pass many an hour singing monotonous songs which
they think very sweet, but which we would think tiresome.

Sometimes when Etu's mother has finished her work for the day, she
gathers the children of the house around her, and shows them how to
make wonderful figures with strings of deer's sinews. You all know the
game of cat's cradle; well, it is something like that, only very much
harder.

The woman fastens the string back and forth on her son's hands, then
weaves it quickly in and out; before one knows it, she has shaped it
into the body of a musk ox. A few more changes are made, when, behold!
it is no longer a musk ox, but has become a reindeer or a seal. It
requires a great deal of skill to do this, but Etu can make nearly
as many figures as his mother, although she has had so many years of
practice.




CHAPTER IV.

DOG TEAM AND SLEDGE.


WHEN he was three years old, our little northern cousin had his first
and only pets. They were two little puppies left without any mother.
They looked like baby wolves with their sharp, pointed noses, erect
ears, and furry backs; but they were very cunning, and amused their
little master all day long. When night came they crept under the heavy
covers, and lay close to Etu's feet while he slept, keeping him as warm
and comfortable as he could possibly desire to be.

But, like all other pets, these puppies _would_ grow up, and then their
work in life began as well as Etu's. They must be trained to draw a
sledge, for they must be able to carry their young master on long
journeys over the snowy plains.

Etu's mother made him some reins to be fastened to the dogs' necks.
She placed the ends in the hands of her little boy, who sat on the
platform, holding a whip. He must learn to manage the team, he must
teach the dogs to obey his voice, to move to the right or the left, as
he directed; in short, to understand that he was truly their master.

Every new birthday two more dogs were given to Etu, and it became his
duty to feed and train them to be in readiness when he was old enough
to hunt with his father.

Do not imagine for a moment that this was an easy matter. No white man
has ever yet, I believe, found himself able to manage a pack of Eskimo
dogs. Each one is fastened to the sledge by a single cord, and, as they
hurry onward at the sound of their master's voice, it seems as though
there were the most dreadful confusion. One dog, wiser and cleverer
than the rest, is always chosen as the leader; his rein is a little
longer than the others. He is always the one that listens most closely
to the directions given, turning his head backward from time to time
to look at his master, and make sure that he is right. Then onward he
dashes, the other dogs following close at his heels.

[Illustration: "ETU HAD BECOME QUITE SKILFUL"]

Etu spent some time in deciding which dog was the best out of his own
pack, but when he was quite sure of Vanya's strength and brightness he
gave him the greatest care and attention of all.

But the whip! It was far harder to learn its use than to master all his
other lessons. The handle was only six inches long, while the lash was
at least sixteen feet. To throw it out and then bring it back without
letting it become entangled among the legs of two or three dogs was a
difficult task. But to be sure of striking only the one for whom it
was intended, was a far harder thing to learn. Even when Etu had become
quite skilful, it seemed as though every time he rode away he must come
home with at least one broken bone. For as the dogs gradually gained in
speed, and one or another received a stroke of the whip to remind him
of his duty, he would jump wildly around. Perhaps he would upset two
or three others in an instant. Then there would be such a yelping, and
such a breaking of reins would follow, it seemed impossible for Etu to
straighten them out again, and harder still it must have been for him
to keep his seat, and not be thrown off.

But the boy loves the work, and nothing pleases him more than to be
sent twenty miles to a neighbouring village on an errand for his father.

In the winter season, when the dogs are not working, they are sometimes
allowed to stay in the passageway leading to the house. And you
already know that they try again and again to make their way inside.
The burning lamp gives such pleasant warmth, and the smell of the seal
or reindeer meat is so tempting that they are willing to run the chance
of the blows they are almost sure to get for being so daring.

They are warmly clothed, however, and can bear the most terrible
weather without harm coming to them. Beneath the long hair a heavy soft
wool grows in the winter time, and protects their bodies from the icy
cold.

It is Etu's duty to feed all the dogs of the household. It does not
take a great amount of his time, for the poor hard-working creatures
have only one meal in two days! If there is danger of a famine, and
provisions are scarce, they are fed but once in three days. This is
during the winter, moreover, for in summer they are expected to provide
for themselves, getting fish from the shallow beds of the rivers,
killing birds as they alight on the shore, catching baby seals, and
getting reindeer moss or lichens from the rocks.

It is fun to watch Etu on feeding day. He gathers the dogs around him
in a wide circle, and tosses first to one, then to another, his strip
of sealskin. If a dog moves from his place or jumps out of turn to
receive his food, he is only rewarded by a lash of the whip, instead of
the longed-for meat. So by long experience they have learned to wait
patiently.

These Eskimo dogs must have wonderful stomachs to digest the tough food
on which they live. It is simply impossible to chew the strips of skin,
so they are swallowed whole. Sometimes a young dog chokes over his hard
work, and coughs up his precious bit, only to have it snatched away
from him by one of his neighbours.

We feel like pitying these dogs of the cold lands. They are deeply
devoted to their masters, yet a word of kindness is rarely spoken to
them. Their work is hard, and their food is scant. In winter they must
draw the sledges, and in summer, as their masters travel from place to
place, they are laden with heavy packs which they carry cheerfully.

This reminds me that when Etu played "horse" in his early days, it
wasn't _horse_, after all; it was _dog_, instead, for the Eskimo dog is
the only horse of the far north.

When Etu was old enough to drive a team of a dozen dogs, he had reached
his tenth birthday. His father said to him then:

"Now, Etu, you are old enough to make your own sledge. You have often
helped me, but now you are able to do the work alone."

Our little cousin set manfully to work at once. It was so nice to think
of having a sledge for his very own, and one that he had made himself,
too. It was not a very hard task, once he had gathered his materials
together. The jawbones of a whale were used for the framework and
runners. Sealskin was fitted over this framework, and a little seat
made from which Etu's legs hung over in front when he was driving.

"But will the bone runners travel swiftly enough over the snow?" some
one asks.

"Not unless they are properly iced," Etu would answer.

Every time the boy starts out on a journey, he must prepare the runners
afresh by squirting water upon them from his mouth. A coating of smooth
ice is formed almost instantly, which will last for a short distance.
Then it must be renewed.

Soon after Etu's sledge was completed, he was sent by his father to
look for seal-holes along the coast. It was a bright, clear day, and,
although it was fifty degrees below zero, the boy enjoyed his ride; he
had no thought of cold, as there was only a slight wind blowing.

He journeyed on and on, his bright eyes watching for signs of seals
beneath the snow-covered ice. He did not realise how far he was from
home. He was many miles away, when a strong wind suddenly arose. How it
cut his cheeks and bit his nose! He knew he must turn back at once or
he might be overcome.

Brave boy as he was, there would keep entering his mind the thought of
a neighbour who was frozen while travelling in just such weather. When
his sledge arrived at his own doorway, there sat the man in his seat,
straight and stiff; but the reins were tightly held in dead hands. The
dogs had kept on their way unharmed, while the driver gradually lost
all knowledge of them, and of this world.

Etu put his gloved hand to his nose again and again, to make sure it
was all right; it was such an easy thing for it to freeze without his
knowledge. And now his hands began to grow numb, and then his feet,
although he often sprang from his sledge to run with the dogs and jump
in the snow.

Ah, that icy wind! Would it never stop? The boy's eyes became blinded,
and at last he thought:

"It is of no use. I don't care very much, anyway. I begin to feel so
queer and stupid. What does it mean?"

That was the last he knew till he awoke in his own home to find his
mother bending over him; she was rubbing him with balls of snow, and
looking very, very anxious. How the blood tingled through his body, as
it began to move freely once more! But he was safe now, and could no
longer feel the terrible wind blowing against him.

It was a narrow escape for Etu. It was well for him that he was within
a mile of the village when he lost the power to think. The dogs kept on
their way, and brought him quickly to his own home.




CHAPTER V.

KAYAK AND HARPOON.


WHEN Etu was only nine years old he began to go out upon the ocean,
fishing and shooting with his father. Of course he was allowed to go
on calm days only. Years of practice would be needed before he could
be trusted to manage his boat in winter storms, or risk his life in
seal hunting. When he was eleven years old, however, he had learned to
paddle very well, and, besides, he had grown to be such a big boy that
his father said:

"You must have a new kayak, Etu; your mother will help you make it. You
have outgrown the other, and it is not safe."

It was one of Etu's duties to watch for all the driftwood floating
in toward shore. Every piece is more precious to these people of
the north than we can imagine. They have no money, but if they could
express the value of the bits of driftwood in dollars and cents,
we would be amazed. Some of us, I fear, would feel like carrying a
shipload of lumber to Etu's people and making a fortune very easily.

When our little Eskimo wished to begin the making of his boat, he
went first to the family treasure house. Of course you can guess what
was stored there. Not diamonds and pearls, nor gold and silver; but
simply--driftwood.

Etu chose with much care the pieces from which to make a stout
framework for his boat. It was important that he should take light wood
that had not lost its strength by drifting about in the water too long.
He cut the strips with a bone knife and bound them into shape with
strong cords of seal sinew. The ends of the boat were sharply pointed.

His mother's work began now. She took the skins of seals which her
husband had just killed and scraped away all the scraps of blubber and
flesh left on the hides. Then, rolling them tightly together, she left
them for some days. When they were again unrolled, it was quite easy to
scrape off the hairs with a mussel shell. After this, the skins were
well washed in sea water.

A very important step must be taken next. The skins must be stretched.
Etu's first boat must be a fine one and there must be no wrinkles in
the covering. The safest way was to stretch them over the framework of
the boat itself. Then they would be sure to fit well. An Eskimo woman
feels very much ashamed if any part of the boat's covering is loose or
wrinkled. People will think she is a poor worker, and that would be a
sad disgrace.

How did Etu's mother manage to make the boat water-tight? It was done
through her careful sewing. She worked with her coarse bone needle, and
the sinews of seal and deer were the only thread; yet when the kayak
was finished, not a single drop of water could enter. It was a clever
piece of work.

Where was Etu to sit in this wonderful boat? The deck was entirely
covered excepting the small hole in the centre. The boy had measured
this hole with great care when he made the framework of the kayak.
It was just large enough for him to squeeze through. His feet and
legs must be underneath the deck, and his thighs should fill up the
hole exactly. Now you understand why the boy's father spoke of his
outgrowing the old boat.

Do you also see why there was no larger hole? Think for a moment of the
waters through which he must ride. Our rough seas would seem calm to
Etu. If the deck were not covered, the dashing waves would swamp his
boat almost instantly. His people had found this out for themselves; so
they cleverly planned a boat different from that of any other in the
world.

Etu made a stout paddle with two blades. It is a pleasure for his
mother and her friends to watch him use it. He is very skilful, and
now, at twelve years of age, he can make the kayak skim over the water
like the wind. How straight he always sits! He balances the boat
exactly and first bends the right blade into the water, then the left,
without seeming to work hard, either. And in some wonderful way, one
can hardly understand how, he speeds onward. No wonder it is such a
pleasure to watch him.

Etu is very proud of his paddle; not because he made it, but because
of the time his mother spent in decorating it. It is inlaid with bits
of stone and ivory set in a pretty pattern. Surely, his mother is a
fine worker. She has just made him a present of a new pair of gloves.
They are to be worn while he is out in his boat, and reach above his
elbows. They will protect his arms and keep them dry, even if the waves
sweep clear over him. But they are not like common gloves, for they are
embroidered in a fine pattern. She cut out bits of hide and dyed them
different colours. Then she sewed them together in a neat design on the
arm pieces of the gloves. Shouldn't you call that embroidery?

While Etu's boat was being made, his mother had a party. Perhaps it
would be better to call it a "sewing-bee." Etu was sent around to the
different women in the village. He told them his mother was ready to
sew the covering on his boat. Would they like to help her?

Now there is nothing Eskimo women like better than to come together
for a friendly chat. So the invitation was accepted, and one morning,
bright and early, a party of women could be seen gathered around the
sealskins. Their fingers worked swiftly, but I fear their tongues moved
still faster. There was a great deal of laughter, for they seemed to
have many funny stories to tell. And I don't believe there was a bit of
unkind gossip; at least, their faces didn't show it.

It was amusing to see how much their teeth were used. They were like
another hand to these Eskimo women, for, as they sewed, they held the
piece of skin in its place with their teeth. When the covering must be
stretched over this hard place or that edge, it was the teeth again
that gave the needed help. Etu knows one old woman whose teeth are worn
almost down to the gums. She must have worked very hard all the years
of her life. She must have sewed on many boat-coverings and made many
suits of clothes before this could have been done.

When Etu's kayak was finished, his mother invited the workers up to the
house, where they were treated to a dish of seal-blood soup and a pipe
of tobacco. It was a grand surprise. In the first place, the heated
blood of the seal is always a dainty; and then, they seldom had the
privilege of smoking tobacco. It was a great rarity, for it could only
be obtained through trade with the white people.

When night came, all were in great good humour as they left for their
own homes. But, as they stepped outdoors, what a beautiful sight met
their eyes! The northern lights were shooting across the heavens in
glorious colours. Have you never noticed on cold winter nights lines of
light shooting upward into the sky? It is always in the north that we
see them, and we wonder and exclaim as we look.

Your mother tells you, "It is the _Aurora Borealis_." It is not fully
known what causes the strange light. It is thought, however, to be
electricity.

In Etu's land the aurora is far more wonderful and beautiful than with
us. The visitors were used to such sights, yet they called to the boy
and his mother to come outdoors and look.

"The lights are brighter than I ever saw them in my life," exclaimed
one of the women. At first it seemed as though there were a great cloud
of light just above the horizon, but it suddenly changed till the
heavens appeared to be alive. The very air around the people quivered,
as long, bright lines shot upward across the sky. They changed so
quickly, it seemed as though a mighty power was directing them about,
now here, now there. It made one dizzy to watch them. Now there would
be streamers of green and red and blue darting from the sky-line way
to the very zenith. There they would meet in a purplish crown of glory.

Again the sky would change in its appearance, and a red light would
spread over all. It was so bright that the snow in every direction was
tinted a rosy colour.

"What makes it, mother?" whispered Etu. "Is it the work of good
spirits, or are evil ones trying to show us their power?"

"I do not know, my child," was the answer. "We are not wise, and cannot
understand these things. Come, let us go back into the house. The sight
makes me fearful."

Etu had many finishing touches to put on his boat after it was covered.
A wooden hoop must be fitted around the hole in which he was to sit.
Several thongs of seal hide must be fastened on the deck, under which
his spear and harpoon should rest while he paddled. Still other straps
were bound to the sides of the deck, for, unless the birds or seals
could be fastened to the boat in some way after they had been killed,
how could they be towed home?

Then Etu began to work on his harpoon. His father had to help him now,
for it needed skill and care to fit it exactly to the throwing-stick.
The Eskimos long ago found that the bow and arrow were not useful in
their narrow, dangerous boats. Only a one-handed weapon can be used in
such a place, so they invented the harpoon and the bird dart.

The harpoon is a long piece of wood pointed with bone or iron. It
is fastened into a handle of wood called a throwing-stick. A cord
of seal hide is attached to it at the other end. You should see our
stout little Etu riding the waves in his kayak, and balancing the
throwing-stick on his shoulder to send the harpoon flying straight to
the mark. But suppose the harpoon lodges fast in the seal's body; if
the hunter still holds the other end of the cord attached to it, the
creature in his fury may make such plunges as to drag the boat and all
down under the water and destroy them. Something else must be invented.
This was the buoy or float. So it was that Etu had to make a buoy to
complete his hunting outfit.

He took the skin of a young seal, from which his mother had scraped off
all the hairs, and tied up the holes made by the head and legs. Through
a small tube fastened in the skin he could blow up his queerly shaped
buoy to its fullest size.

Now the float was completed. Do you understand what help it would give?
If the float is attached to the other end of the line when the harpoon
is thrown, the hunter can let everything go. He does not need to have
any part fastened to the boat. For the float cannot sink, and will
show him where to follow the game, and where to throw next; yet he is
himself in no danger of being pulled after the animal.

Even now Etu would not be safe to go hunting in rough waters. He must
have a special coat prepared. This, again, was his mother's work. The
skin of the seal was used after all the hair was removed. The jacket
was made to fit closely over his other garments. It had a hood to be
drawn tightly over his head, long sleeves, and drawing-strings around
the neck and lower edge.

When Etu gets into his boat he must fit his jacket around the hoop of
the sitting-hole, and draw the cord tightly. And now he seems a part of
the boat itself. No water can enter, and although the waves may dash
completely over him he will keep dry, and the boat will not sink.

No boy could be happier than Etu was when his outfit was complete. He
ran to meet his father to tell him the joyful news. Now he could be
looked upon as a man, no longer a child. He would hereafter be allowed
to take part in the dangers of his father's life. He was very glad.

This happy, good-natured boy, who disliked to say a cross word to any
one, who would not fight with other boys, was certainly no coward. For
his heart was set upon war,--not war with his fellows, but war with the
winds and waves, and the powerful creatures of sea and land. He was
ready for battle. Time would show that courage was not wanting when he
came face to face with danger.




CHAPTER VI.

THE SEAL HUNT.


IT was about this time that Etu's father bored holes in his son's lips.
These holes were made at each end of the mouth. Ivory buttons were
fitted into them, and now Etu felt that he was more of a man than ever
before. It was a proud moment when he looked in the bit of mirror his
father had bought for ten seal hides, and gazed on his queer ornaments.
He thought they were very beautiful, and then they fitted so well! The
pain of having the holes bored, and the unpleasant feeling before the
flesh healed, were of little matter to him. It was not worth thinking
about.

It was a terrible winter, and food was scarce. There was a very small
supply of meat on hand in the village. The first pleasant morning after
Etu's fishing outfit was finished, he started off for a day's hunt on
the ocean. Very early in the morning he and his father went out on the
rocks to look for the weather signs. Yes, it would be a clear day; it
would be safe to venture on the waves. The other men of the village
were already out, and soon all were busy launching their boats. No
breakfast was eaten; they could work better and shoot straighter if
they waited to eat until they came back.

Each one of the party carefully arranged his harpoon, spear, and float
on the deck of his boat; then, shoving it into the icy water, sprang in
after it and quickly fitted himself into the small seat. The sea jacket
must be drawn carefully around the hoop, for, if water should enter,
the boat would soon sink.

As the hunters paddled merrily along, the waves kept dashing over the
decks. But the men sang and shouted gaily to each other as though it
were the finest sport in the world. Yet it was a lonely scene about
them; we should even call it fearful. Cakes of ice jostled against the
boats here and there, and far out in the dim light a floating field of
ice could be seen by the watchful Eskimos. Sometimes they hunted for
the seals on such fields, for these creatures often gather in herds on
the ice to bask in the sun and to sport together. But to-day they would
search for them in the ocean itself.

The boats skimmed onward over the waves till the land lay far behind.
Three hours passed before the seal ground was reached. Etu paddled
steadily and kept up with the men who had so much more experience than
himself.

As his father watched him from time to time, he thought, "My boy will
be a leader for his people when I grow old and weak. I have never
before seen one so young show such strength."

[Illustration: "WHIZZ! SOUNDS THE HARPOON AS IT SPEEDS FROM ETU'S
SHOULDER"]

Etu's father was held to be the best huntsman of the village, and
for this very reason was looked upon as the chief. The Eskimos share
everything in common, but one man in a settlement is chosen as the
leader. He settles the disputes and gives advice when it is needed. He
directs the hunt and judges the wrong-doer. When he fails in strength
it is but right that another should be chosen in his place.

When the seal ground was reached at last, the men moved away from each
other in different directions; the singing and shouting stopped as they
rested on their paddles and watched for seals' heads to appear above
the water. Etu's father kept quite near him; he might be needed to help
his son in case he was successful.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty, thirty, but the boy did not grow
impatient. His bright eyes watched closely, scanning the water in all
directions. At last he was rewarded, for look! there is a brown head
rising into view. The seal is easily frightened, and darts out of sight
when he sees the boy in the boat. But Etu does not move a muscle till
the seal has disappeared. Then he paddles rapidly toward the spot where
the creature sank out of sight and once more quietly waits, but this
time with harpoon in hand.

Seals are able to stay under water for twenty minutes at a time. They
can close their nostrils whenever they choose, and they breathe very
slowly at all times. But they must come to the surface after a time for
fresh air. Etu knows this and watches.

Ah! the water moves again. The prey is to be seen and is but a short
distance away. Whizz! sounds the harpoon as it speeds from Etu's
shoulder and goes straight to the mark. Quick as a flash the float is
thrown from the boat, and the coil of rope fastened to it runs out as
the seal drags it along. He throws himself about in agony, but cannot
free himself from the cruel harpoon lodged in his side. The water is
stained with blood.

Now the float can be seen on the surface of the waves, now it is
dragged below as the seal dives out of sight; but Etu does not worry.
He must paddle far enough away from the seal, however, to keep out of
danger. For although it is usually a timid and gentle creature, yet,
when it is attacked, it grows daring and dangerous.

Etu knows of several hunters whose boats have been ripped open by
seals; they would have been killed by their angry foes if their
comrades had not come to their rescue. The boy has listened to stories
of such narrow escapes ever since he was old enough to understand
these things. So he is very quick and watchful. He does not notice that
his father has drawn quite close, and sits, spear in hand, ready to end
the seal's life if his son should fail.

And now the wounded animal appears again directly in front of the boat.
A good chance must not be lost, and Etu, seizing his spear, drives it
straight through one of the flippers. It pierces the seal's lungs, and
after a few gasps the beautiful soft eyes close in death.

"Well done, my boy," shouted his father. "You have won the first prize
of the day. You shall treat our friends."

Now it is a custom among these people of the cold lands that when a
seal is killed the successful hunter at once cuts away a portion of
blubber, and divides it among the rest of the party. Etu, therefore,
pulled the dead seal close to his boat, drew out the spear and
harpoon, and coiled the cord attached to it. After putting these in
their proper places on the deck of the kayak, he cut away the blubber,
and proudly distributed the treat among the men, who by this time had
drawn near. It was at least noontime, and was the first food tasted
that day. Every one praised the boy's skill, and then all drew off once
more to their different stations.

Before the afternoon was over, Etu's father had secured two seals,
and two more were killed by others of the party. It had been a most
successful hunt, although several accidents had occurred. One of the
seals captured by Etu's father had succeeded in tearing the float
into shreds before he was finally killed. Another of the hunters was
overturned and almost drowned. This was because the cord attached to
the harpoon had caught in a strap on the deck as it was running out.
The wounded seal dragged him along as it plunged, before he had a
chance to free his boat.

Over they went, man and boat, and only the keel of the kayak could
be seen. The seal, too, was out of sight. Did it see the man? was it
attacking him below the surface of the water?

Three of the man's companions paddled rapidly toward the overturned
boat. One of them reached his arm down under the water and, giving a
skilful jerk to the man's arm, brought him up suddenly on even keel.
Another of the party cut the cord with his spear. Still a third found
the paddle, of which he had lost hold, and gave it into his hands. Then
all started off in pursuit of the seal as though nothing had happened.

You must ask Etu to tell you more of the wonderful doings of that first
ocean hunt. He will never forget even the smallest thing which happened
on that day.

It was near night when the party started homeward, and three good hours
of paddling were before them. At length, however, the shore came into
view. Nearer and nearer it looked to the tired workers. And yes! there
were the women waiting and watching, ready for the good news.

Etu was not the first to land, for you remember he had a seal in tow,
and those who are so burdened cannot travel as quickly over the water
as others who have no extra weight. He travelled homeward beside his
father's still more heavily laden boat; while both the man and his son
pictured the mother's delight at Etu's success.

As the boats landed, one by one, the men jumped out, and started for
home with their weapons. The women would draw up the boats into safe
places. They would also dispose of the seals. The men's work was done,
and nothing was left for them now except to sit around the oil lamp,
eat, and tell stories of the day's adventures. This very night there
would be a seal feast at Etu's home, and hours would be given up to
eating and making merry.




CHAPTER VII.

FEAST AND FUN.


IT did not take long for the hunters to exchange their wet clothing for
dry garments. Then with their wives and children they gathered in the
home of their chief.

"How could the feast be prepared so quickly?" we ask in surprise. If we
could have been there we should not have wondered very long.

The people squatted on the floor in a circle. Etu and his father stood
in their midst with big knives, ready to cut up the seals lying before
them. Hungry as they were, they must not eat yet. Something important
must be done first.

The Eskimos have many strange beliefs. They think there is a spirit
in everything,--the rock, the snow, the wind, the very air has its
spirit. The seal, therefore, has its spirit, too, and must be treated
respectfully.

Etu's father solemnly sprinkled water on the body, while every one
watched him in silence. It was an offering to the animal's spirit. He
next carefully cut away the skin and showed the thick layer of blubber
beneath. The eyes of the company sparkled with delight. Many funny
faces were made as each in turn received a huge chunk of raw blubber.

Please don't shudder at the thought of eating it. White travellers
among the Eskimos tell us it is really very good, and tastes much like
fresh cream. It is only after it has been kept for a long time that it
begins to taste rancid and fishy.

After the blubber had been divided among the company, the bodies of
the two seals were opened, and the blood scooped out. It seemed
truly delicious to the hungry visitors. The last course of the feast
consisted of the seal's ribs, which were picked until nothing was left
save the bones.

How the people did eat! How they enjoyed the dainties served to them!
There were many stories told by those who could stop long enough to
talk. Etu was asked, over and over again, to describe how he killed his
first seal. And each time the movements of his face, as well as his
arms and hands, seemed to express as much as the words themselves.

At this strange feast, for which no cooking was needed, the women were
not served first, as in our own land. It was the men who were first
thought of, and who received the choicest pieces. But Etu did not
forget his mother, and looked out to see that she was well served.

When the feast was over at last, all joined in a song. There were only
a few notes, and these were repeated over and over again; but the party
must have enjoyed it, or they would not have sung it so many times.

At last the moon shone down upon them, and Etu's mother hastened to
draw the sealskin curtain. For her people dread the power of the moon,
and do not willingly sit in its light. It is a wonderful being, and Etu
has been taught that it brings the cold weather to his people. How is
this possible? Why, as it dwells afar off in the sky, it whittles the
tusk of a walrus. In some wonderful way the shavings are changed into
the snow which falls in great sheets over the earth.

By this time the party began to think of going home. They must prepare
for another "sleep," they said, and the people of the house were soon
left to themselves.

Etu does not count time as we do. He speaks of a "moon" ago, instead
of a month. Yesterday is the period before the last "sleep," and the
years are counted by the winters. A fresh notch is cut in the wall of
his winter home when the family leave it for their summer's travels.
That is the only way his people have to keep account of the passing
time. They do not write or read, except as they are taught by their
white visitors, and Etu has never seen a book in his life.

The boy's father has shown him how to make good maps of the coast. They
are very neat, and are measured so exactly that every island and point
of land are correctly marked for many miles. They are drawn with the
burnt ends of sticks on smooth pieces of driftwood, but if you ever
visit Etu, you can trust to them in exploring the country.

On the day after the feast the other seals were divided evenly among
all the people in the village. The successful hunters did not once
dream of keeping them for their own families. What! have a fine dinner
yourself, while others around you go hungry! It was not to be thought
of. All must share alike.




CHAPTER VIII.

HARD TIMES.


TIME passed by. The weather was terribly cold, even for these people.
The hunters went out on the ocean whenever it was safe to venture, but
the seals and walruses were very scarce. They had probably gone in
search of warmer waters.

At this very time their winter stores were all stolen. Whenever there
is an extra supply on hand, it is hidden in a deep hole underground,
so that neither wild animals nor dogs can reach it. Such a place for
stores is called a _cachÃ©_ by our western hunters and trappers.

One night Etu was wakened by a great noise outside. In a moment the
whole household was aroused. They heard the dogs howling and rushing
around. There was certainly a fight of some kind. Etu and his father
were dressed in a moment, as well as two other men who shared the home.

"Wolves! It is a pack of wolves," cried the women. "Don't go out and
leave us; it is not safe."

But the men only seized their spears and moved as quickly as possible
down the passageway. They must go to the aid of the dogs, who had
been left outdoors for the night. They also thought of their precious
stores. The wolves had probably scented the place and were then
attacked by the dogs.

In a short time the men returned to the frightened household. They were
all safe. The wolves had fled, but the harm had already been done. Not
a scrap of the precious stores remained. The dogs had finished what the
wolves left behind them. It was the quarreling of the dogs themselves
over the food that had wakened the people. It was plain, however, that
the wolves had been there, because the dead body of one of them lay
close by the storehouse. The dogs had been more than a match for them.

There was nothing for Etu and his people to eat that day. There was
scarcely any oil in the lamps. The women and children tried to keep
warm beneath the piles of furs; the men went out to search along the
shore for seal holes.

Our brave little Etu looked upon himself as a man now. So, leading his
brightest dog by a cord, he started out in search of prey. The dog had
a wonderfully keen scent. He would help in finding the hiding-place of
a seal, if there were one to be found.

You may not know what a queer home the mother seal makes for her baby.
She chooses a place on the solid ice that is covered with a deep layer
of snow. She scrapes away the snow and carries it down through a hole
in the ice into the water below. When her work is done, she has a
dome-shaped house. The floor is the icy shelf, from which there is a
passageway to the water beneath. There is a tiny breathing-place in the
snowy roof to which she turns when needing air.

The baby seal is born in this strange home. He lies here and sleeps
most of the time till he is old enough to take care of himself. His
mother often visits him. She hopes his enemies will not find him. But
the bear, the fox, and the Eskimo dog, are watching for signs of just
such hiding-places as these. Their scent is keen and they discover the
tiny breathing-holes when men and boys would pass them by. This is why
Etu took his dog along with him.

Perhaps you wonder why Etu did not let Vanya run free. He only wished
him to find a seal hole; the boy would do the hunting himself. The
dog, if left alone, might succeed in scaring away the old seal; and Etu
wished to get both the baby and its mother.

The boy tramped for many hours. Remember, he had no breakfast this
morning, yet he went with a bright face and a stout heart. When night
came, Etu was still brave and cheerful, although he had met with no
success. He went home and found the men just returning. They also had
failed.

They could expect no supper, nor fire to warm them, after the long
day's tramp in the bitter cold, but they must not show sadness; they
must keep up stout hearts for the sake of the women and children.

After all, there was a surprise waiting for Etu. His mother had used
the last bit of oil in thawing a little snow to give the household some
water to drink. And, besides this, there was a scrap of seal hide for
each one to chew. Tough as it was, it was received as though it were
the greatest dainty in the world.

After this meal, if it could be called one, Etu crept into bed, and
was soon sound asleep. Morning came, and our little cousin started out
once more in search of food. But he had no better success than the day
before. When he got home at night there was good news awaiting him,
although it did not bring any supper.

His father had found a seal-hole, and had said to the other men, "I
will not leave my place till I can bring food for my hungry people."
They left him, and went back to the village to tell his waiting
household. His good wife at once got a heavy fur robe, and sent it back
to her patient husband. He could wrap it about his feet, as he sat
watching in the cold.

Perhaps it would be only a short time before he would hear the mother
seal blowing at the hole below. But, again, hours might pass before
she would come back to nurse her baby. Yet the man must watch and
be ready to pierce the breathing-hole with his long spear at any
moment,--it was his only chance of killing the mother.

The long hours of the night passed; the morning, too, was gone, when,
suddenly, the quick ears of the hunter heard the welcome sound. And
now, a second blow! the seal's head must be close to the hole. Like a
flash, down went the waiting spear, and fastened itself through the
nose of the seal. If it had turned a half-inch in its course, it would
have failed in its work.

There was a violent pull at the spear, as the seal darted down through
the passage from her icy home to the water below. But the hunter had a
long rope fastened to the spear, and he let it run out quickly. Then,
brushing away the snowy roof, he jumped down on the floor of the
"igloo." With two or three strong pulls he brought up the struggling
seal, and quickly ended her life. It was an easy matter to dispose of
the frightened baby.

What a prize he had gained! He did not think of his frost-bitten nose,
nor of his empty stomach. He only pictured the joy of the waiting
people when he should reach home.

When the hard-earned supper was set before them, you cannot guess what
was the greatest dainty of all. It was the milk inside the baby seal's
stomach! It was sweet and delicate in its taste, and was much like the
milk from a green cocoanut.

There were many other hard times before that winter was over, but Etu
did his part bravely, and no one died of want.

One day the boy hunted a seal bear-fashion, and was successful, too. He
had learned many lessons from this wise creature, and he did not forget
them. The polar bear, so strong and fierce, is also very cunning.
If he discovers a dark spot far away on the ice, he seems to say to
himself, "Ah! there is a seal asleep. I will deceive him, and catch
him for my dinner." So he creeps, or, rather, hitches along, with his
fore feet curled beneath him. Nearer and nearer he draws to his prey.
And now the sleeping seal awakes. Is there danger? But the bear at once
stops moving, and makes a low, strange sound. It is different from his
usual voice. The seal listens, and is charmed. He turns his head from
side to side, and then is quite still once more. The bear creeps nearer
now; once more the seal starts, but is again charmed by the strange
sound. Suddenly he is caught in those powerful claws, and the long,
sharp teeth fasten themselves in his body. In a moment it is all over
with the poor seal.

[Illustration: "ETU STOPPED MOVING AND LAY QUITE STILL"]

This is one of the lessons Etu learned from Ninoo, the bear. He
followed his teacher well when one day he, too, saw a dark spot on
the shore, quite a distance away. Holding his spear beneath him, he
crouched down on the snow, and jerked himself along. For some time the
seal was not aroused. Then, opening his eyes, he must have thought:
"Is that a brother seal over there? His coat is like mine." Still he
watched, for a seal is easily frightened. Etu stopped moving and lay
quite still.

"No, there is no danger," thought the seal; and he closed his eyes
again.

Once more Etu began to move, and drew quite near before the seal
stirred again. But now the creature seemed to question himself once
more.

"Is it a friend, or is it one of my terrible enemies?"

He was about to dart away when Etu began to make a low, strange sound.
You would have thought it was the bear himself, he was imitated so
well. The seal seemed pleased, and did not stir again.

Before another five minutes the young hunter had killed his victim. He
hurried homeward with the heavy burden flung over his broad shoulders.
You can imagine how proud his mother felt when he appeared in the
doorway of the house and showed his prize of the morning.




CHAPTER IX.

AN ESKIMO CHRISTMAS.


NOT long after this Etu's people celebrated a festival. It was about
Christmas time, but the boy had never heard of our own great holiday.
Yet his own Christmas always means very much to him.

All the people of the village met together on a certain evening in
Etu's home. The medicine-man was there, and made a sort of prayer.
He prayed that all might go well with the people during the coming
year. This medicine-man is the priest as well as the doctor among the
Eskimos. After the prayer there was a feast. The hunters had done their
best, and had managed to get a good supply of seal meat on hand.

The next day after the feast, men, women, and children gathered
together in a circle in the open air. A vessel of water had been placed
in their midst. Each one brought a piece of meat with him. No one spoke
while it was being eaten, but each thought of his good spirit, and
wished for good things. Then each in turn took a drink of water from
the vessel. As he did so he spoke, telling when and where he was born.

When this ceremony was over, all threw presents to each other. They
believed they would receive good things from the good spirits if they
were generous at this time.

Soon after this festival came New Year's. This, too, was a strange
celebration.

Two men, one of them dressed as a woman, went from hut to hut blowing
out the flame in each lamp. It must be lighted from a fresh fire.

The people believe there is a new sun in the heavens at the beginning
of each new year. They think they ought to picture this great change in
their own homes.

The year was a moon old, as Etu would say, when one day he was out
hunting for seal-holes with his father. They brought a pack of dogs
along with them. These had just been loosened for a run when they
darted off as though they had found a fresh scent. They rushed toward a
great bank of snow on the side of a high rock.

Surely it was no seal-hole they had discovered. The small opening on
the surface of the snow showed that it was the breathing-place of
a polar bear. The mother bear eats vast quantities of food at the
beginning of winter; then she seeks a sheltered spot at the foot of
some rock, and begins her long rest. The snow falls in great drifts
over her. This makes a warm, close house. Does it seem as though she
must die for want of air? There is no danger of this, for the breath
from her great body thaws enough snow around her to form a small room.
It also makes a sort of chimney through the snow, to the air above.

The baby bear is born in this house of snow, and there he stays with
his mother till old enough to hunt for himself.

It was the home of a mother bear, then, that the dogs had discovered.
They were wildly excited, for Eskimo dogs are no cowards. They love a
bear hunt hugely. They rushed upon the opening and quickly pushed away
the snow. Etu and his father stood on the watch for the mother bear and
her cub to appear. They were as much excited as the dogs, but stood
with spears in hand, perfectly still.

Look out now! for here they come. What a tiny little thing the baby
bear is! It is like a little puppy. It would be easy to end its life,
but Etu knows that would not be safe. It would make the mother a
hundred times more dangerous.

The great creature looks now in one direction, now in another. It would
not be hard for her to escape; but she will not leave her cub. So she
rushes madly toward Etu's father. The dogs jump around her, biting at
her heels. She does not seem even to notice them. Look at the long
sharp teeth as she opens her mouth for a spring upon the man. One blow
of her paws would knock him senseless. But he does not fear. He jumps
to one side and dodges the blow. At the same time, he strikes at her
throat with his long spear.

The blood gushes forth and she staggers. However, she shakes herself
together with a great effort and rises on her hind legs to strike
again. The pack of dogs surround her and keep biting at her legs, but
the man would not be able to escape if Etu did not suddenly come up
behind. He plunges his own spear far into her side. She gives one
fearful groan and falls to the ground. No hunter will ever be troubled
by her again.

The poor little cub runs to its mother's side, giving piteous cries.
But no one is left now to pity and love it, so its life is mercifully
and quickly ended. The men and dogs are soon on their homeward way.
They must get sledges and go back quickly for the bodies of the two
bears. Suppose that while they were gone another party of Eskimos
should come along, need they fear their prey would be stolen? The
thought does not enter their heads, for such a thing has never been
known to happen among their people. They are honest in all ways, and
would not touch that which they believe to be another's.




CHAPTER X.

SUMMER TRAVELS.


THE long winter was over at last, and Etu's people got ready to leave
their underground homes. They would spend the first spring days farther
up the coast, and closer still to the water's side; for there they
could watch the seal-holes more easily.

The household goods were packed on the sledges, and Etu said good-bye
to his winter home for four months. The men walked along, guiding the
dogs, while the women and children rode in the sledges. They travelled
nearly all day before they came to a place where they wished to settle.
But the weather was even now bitterly cold. The snow still covered the
earth, and the water along the shore was a mass of broken ice.

[Illustration: "THE BLOCKS OF SNOW WERE HANDED TO THEM"]

Where were these people to be sheltered when night came on? The
question could be easily answered. They would build homes for
themselves in an hour or two. The sheets of snow around them were quite
solid, and the boys and men began to saw the snow into thick blocks.
The walls and roofs of the houses should be built of these.

Two men stood in the centre of each cleared space: the blocks of snow
were handed to them. These were laid on the ground, side by side, in
a circle as large as they wished the house to be. The foundation was
quickly made. Then another row of snow blocks was laid above the first,
but drawn in toward the centre a very little. Then came a third row,
and so on, till at last there was just space enough at the top for one
block of snow to fill it in completely. The new house looked like a
great snow beehive.

But the two builders were shut up inside! One of the men on the
outside cut a block of snow out of the wall of the house. This made
a doorway through which people could go and come. It could be closed
afterward, when the inmates desired, by filling it again with a snow
door.

The builders now took loose snow and sifted it into the cracks and
crevices to make the house quite close and tight.

After this, the floor must be trodden down smooth, and then the women
could enter to set up housekeeping. A bed of snow was quickly made,
over which the fur rugs were thrown. Next, a stand of snow was shaped,
and the lamp set up in its place. The oil was soon burning brightly,
and snow was melted to furnish drinking-water. In half an hour more our
cousin Etu was eating supper as comfortably as he could wish. Not long
after, he was sound asleep on his snow bedstead, without a single dream
of cold or trouble.

After a few weeks of seal hunting, Etu noticed that the birds were
returning. There were great numbers of them,--wild ducks, geese, and
sea-birds of many kinds.

The ice began to disappear, and it was great sport to paddle his boat
over to the islands near the shore, and shoot a bagful of birds for
dinner. But sometimes he stayed in his boat, and, moving slowly along
the shore, would throw his bird-dart at ducks as they flew by. His aim
was straight and true, and he was almost sure to be successful.

Spring changed suddenly into summer, and now the snow house must be
left, for Etu and his people were ready to move again. Besides, the
walls of the house grew soft, and would soon melt away.

Where would Etu travel next? you ask. He would answer:

"Not far from here there is a broad river where great numbers of salmon
live during the warm weather. It is great sport catching the fish. Now
we can have so much rich food that we can all grow fat."

Once more the dogs were harnessed, and the spring camping-ground was
left behind, as the Eskimo party journeyed southward. When the river
was reached, new homes must be made ready. But what material would be
used now? There were no trees to furnish wood, for the forests were
still hundreds of miles south of them, and snow at this time of the
year was out of the question.

But Etu's people were well prepared, for they took their supply of
skins, and quickly made tents out of them. It was still so cold that a
double row of skins must be used to keep out the sharp winds.

And now they were ready for the happiest part of the whole year. They
need not fear hunger for a long time to come. Plenty of fish in the
river, plenty of birds in the air, birds' eggs, which the bright eyes
of the boys and girls would discover; and, besides all these dainties,
they would get stores of reindeer meat.

"How could any one be any happier than I?" thought Etu, and he smiled a
broad smile, making a funny face to express his joy.

In another country of the world as far north as Etu lives, the
Laplander has herds of tame reindeer. They are driven as Etu drives his
dogs. They give sweet milk, too.

Etu has never heard of these people, but he has been told that there is
a place in his own country where his kind American friends have brought
some of these tame reindeer from Lapland. Great care is taken of them,
so they will grow and get used to their new home. It will be a fine
thing for Etu's people to have these tame reindeer and be able to get
fresh milk during the long winter, as well as tame animals that will
supply them with food when they are in danger of starving.

But Etu busies himself now with setting traps for the wild reindeer
which begin to appear in the country as summer opens. They have spent
the winter in the forests far away, but as the heat of the sun begins
to melt the snow, they travel toward the shores of the ocean.

Here the baby reindeer are born. They are tiny, weak little creatures
at first; but they grow fast, and in a few days are able to take care
of themselves, and get their own food.

The reindeer have a wonderfully keen sense of smell. Even when the
ground is covered with a deep layer of snow, they seem able to tell
where the lichens and mosses are living beneath it. No one has ever
seen a reindeer make a mistake in this matter. When he begins to paw
away the snow with his broad, stout hoofs, you may be sure he has
discovered a good dinner for himself. The lichens are tender and
white, and taste somewhat like wheat bran. It is no wonder the reindeer
grows fat on this plentiful food.

Etu hunts the reindeer in several different ways. Sometimes when he is
out on the watch for them he hears a great clattering. It may be a long
way off, and he cannot see a living thing, yet he knows what that sound
means. It is the hoofs of the reindeer as they come pounding along.

He lies down and keeps very still. He watches closely, however, to see
if the reindeer are coming in his direction. If he finds this to be so,
he keeps in the same position and waits till they have passed by him
and are headed for the shore.

Then he jumps up suddenly, and chases them with fury. They get
confused, and rush onward in disorder. On he follows till they reach
the water's side, where they plunge madly in. They are good swimmers,
but are so frightened that Etu is easily able to secure at least one of
them.

Sometimes our Eskimo cousin goes a long way over the plains, and with
his father's help digs a deep pit in the earth. They cover it over with
brushwood. If a herd of reindeer should travel in this direction, some
of them would fall into the pit and break their slender legs. It would
be an easy matter then to come and get them.

But there is another way that Etu likes best of all. Soon after he came
to his summer home he hunted about over the country till he had chosen
a spot where the reindeer were likely to come. Here he built a sort of
fort, or wall, out of stones. He could hide behind this wall, and watch
for his game without their being able to see him. He spent many days of
the summer in this place with one of his boy friends. They would sit
there talking, or playing some quiet game, but their bows and arrows
were always ready; and their eyes ever on the lookout for the reindeer
who might come that way at any moment.

Many times, of course, they met with no success; but many times, too,
they took a herd by surprise, and were able to carry home a goodly
feast to their friends and relatives.

Reindeer meat is tender and sweet, the marrow and tongue being the
parts best liked by Etu's people. But the most delicious food Etu ever
puts into his mouth is the contents of a reindeer's stomach! We must
not be shocked at this, though it does seem a queer thing to eat,
doesn't it? The reason Etu likes it so well is probably this: the
food of the reindeer is moss; when it has entered his stomach it has
a slightly acid taste, so it gives a relish the people cannot often
get. Besides, it belongs to the vegetable kingdom, and Etu's people,
we know, do not have the pleasure of eating corn, potatoes, and other
delicious fruits of the earth, so commonly used by us that we hardly
appreciate them.

It was after one of these long days on the plains that Etu came home
feeling quite ill. His head ached; his eyes were bloodshot; his hands
and face burned like fire.

His loving mother was quite worried. She put her son to bed at once,
and sent for the medicine-man. She got a present of deer skins ready to
give him as soon as the great person should appear.

After he had accepted the deer skins the doctor put on a horrible black
mask; then he began to move about the tent, waving his arms from side
to side, and repeating a charm. Do you understand what he was trying
to do? He thought a bad spirit had got hold of Etu; he believed the
hideous mask and the charm of certain words would drive it out.

After awhile he went away, and Etu was alone again with his own
people. His fever lasted for several days, but at length it left
him, and he grew well and strong once more. He believed the great
medicine-man had healed him; but we think Mother Nature worked her own
cure through rest in his own warm bed. The poor boy was tired out, and
had caught a hard cold watching on the plains.

As soon as he was strong his father said: "The trading season has come,
for it is already two moons since we made our camp. We must journey
southward to the great river. We shall see our friends from the western
coast; they must have already started to meet us. Let us get our furs,
seal oil, and walrus tusks together to sell to them, for, no doubt,
they will have many things to give us in exchange. We greatly need
some copper kettles and tobacco. Oh, yes, let us get ready as soon as
possible."

Etu was delighted to hear these words. Now would come the merriest
time. He would have a long journey, and he dearly liked a change. But
that was not all. He would see new people, and hear of new things; he
would have a chance to trade, and that would be great sport in itself.

Besides all these things, he knew his people would spend at least ten
days with their friends from the west; and there would be much dancing
and singing and story-telling, both day and night. Hurrah, then, for
this summer journey!

You may be sure Etu did his best in packing and making ready. In
another twenty-four hours there was no sign left of this Eskimo
village. The dogs, the sledges, and the people were all gone. Nothing
was left except a few articles used in housekeeping, and these were
buried in an underground storehouse.

If you wish to hear more about Etu, and of his yearly visit south; if
you care to hear about the big whale he helped to kill last winter, and
of his adventure with a walrus, you must write and ask him about these
things.

And yet, after all, I fear he could not read the letter. You would
better go and visit him. It is well worth the journey, for then you can
see for yourself how a boy can be cheerful and happy and loving, even
though he lives in the dreariest part of the whole world.


THE END.




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    little ones to bed and rack their brains for stories will
    find this book a treasure."--_Cleveland Leader._


=The Sandman=: MORE FARM STORIES. By WILLIAM J. HOPKINS, author of "The
Sandman: His Farm Stories."

  Library 12mo, cloth decorative, fully illustrated,      $1.50

Mr. Hopkins's first essay at bedtime stories has met with such approval
that this second book of "Sandman" tales has been issued for scores of
eager children. Life on the farm, and out-of-doors, will be portrayed
in his inimitable manner, and many a little one will hail the bedtime
season as one of delight.


=A Puritan Knight Errant.= By EDITH ROBINSON, author of "A Little
Puritan Pioneer," "A Little Puritan's First Christmas," "A Little
Puritan Rebel," etc.

  Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated      $1.50

The charm of style and historical value of Miss Robinson's previous
stories of child life in Puritan days have brought them wide
popularity. Her latest and most important book appeals to a large
juvenile public. The "knight errant" of this story is a little Don
Quixote, whose trials and their ultimate outcome will prove deeply
interesting to their reader.


=Beautiful Joe's Paradise=; OR, THE ISLAND OF BROTHERLY LOVE. A
sequel to "Beautiful Joe." By MARSHALL SAUNDERS, author of "Beautiful
Joe," "For His Country," etc. With fifteen full-page plates and many
decorations from drawings by Charles Livingston Bull.

  One vol., library 12mo, cloth decorative      $1.50

    "Will be immensely enjoyed by the boys and girls who read
    it."--_Pittsburg Gazette._

    "Miss Saunders has put life, humor, action, and
    tenderness into her story. The book deserves to be a
    favorite."--_Chicago Record-Herald._

    "This book revives the spirit of 'Beautiful Joe' capitally.
    It is fairly riotous with fun, and as a whole is about
    as unusual as anything in the animal book line that has
    seen the light. It is a book for juveniles--old and
    young."--_Philadelphia Item._


='Tilda Jane.= By MARSHALL SAUNDERS, author of "Beautiful Joe," etc.

  One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth, decorative cover      $1.50

    "No more amusing and attractive child's story has appeared
    for a long time than this quaint and curious recital of the
    adventures of that pitiful and charming little runaway.

    "It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books
    that win and charm the reader, and I did not put it down
    until I had finished it--honest! And I am sure that every
    one, young or old, who reads will be proud and happy to make
    the acquaintance of the delicious waif.

    "I cannot think of any better book for children than this. I
    commend it unreservedly."--_Cyrus Townsend Brady._


=The Story of the Graveleys.= By MARSHALL SAUNDERS, author of
"Beautiful Joe's Paradise," "'Tilda Jane," etc.

  Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by E. B. Barry      $1.50

Here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and triumphs, of a
delightful New England family, of whose devotion and sturdiness it will
do the reader good to hear. From the kindly, serene-souled grandmother
to the buoyant madcap, Berty, these Graveleys are folk of fibre and
blood--genuine human beings.




PHYLLIS' FIELD FRIENDS SERIES

_By LENORE E. MULETS_

Six vols., cloth decorative, illustrated by Sophie Schneider. Sold
separately, or as a set.

  Per volume      $1.00
  Per set         $6.00


    =Insect Stories.=
    =Stories of Little Animals.=
    =Flower Stories.=
    =Bird Stories.=
    =Tree Stories.=
    =Stories of Little Fishes.=

In this series of six little Nature books, it is the author's intention
so to present to the child reader the facts about each particular
flower, insect, bird, or animal, in story form, as to make delightful
reading. Classical legends, myths, poems, and songs are so introduced
as to correlate fully with these lessons, to which the excellent
illustrations are no little help.




THE WOODRANGER TALES

_By G. WALDO BROWNE_


    =The Woodranger.=
    =The Young Gunbearer.=
    =The Hero of the Hills.=

  Each, 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth, decorative cover, illustrated,
      per volume                                                  $1.00
  Three vols., boxed, per set                                     $3.00

"The Woodranger Tales," like the "Pathfinder Tales" of J. Fenimore
Cooper, combine historical information relating to early pioneer days
in America with interesting adventures in the backwoods. Although the
same characters are continued throughout the series, each book is
complete in itself, and, while based strictly on historical facts, is
an interesting and exciting tale of adventure.

       *       *       *       *       *


=The Rosamond Tales.= By CUYLER REYNOLDS. With 30 full-page
illustrations from original photographs, and with a frontispiece from a
drawing by Maud Humphreys.

  One vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative      $1.50

These are just the bedtime stories that children always ask for, but do
not always get. Rosamond and Rosalind are the hero and heroine of many
happy adventures in town and on their grandfather's farm; and the happy
listeners to their story will unconsciously absorb a vast amount of
interesting knowledge of birds, animals, and flowers. The book will be
a boon to tired mothers, and a delight to wide-awake children.


=Larry Hudson's Ambition.= By JAMES OTIS, author of "Toby Tyler," etc.
Illustrated by Eliot Keen.

  One vol., library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover,      $1.25

James Otis, who has delighted the juvenile public with so many popular
stories, has written the story of the rise of the bootblack Larry.
Larry is not only capable of holding his own and coming out with flying
colors in the amusing adventures wherein he befriends the family of
good Deacon Doak; he also has the signal ability to know what he wants
and to understand that hard work is necessary to win.


=Black Beauty=: THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A HORSE. By ANNA SEWELL. _New
Illustrated Edition._ With nineteen full-page drawings by Winifred
Austin.

  One vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative, gilt top,      $1.25

There have been many editions of this classic, but we confidently
offer this one as the most appropriate and handsome yet produced. The
illustrations are of special value and beauty. Miss Austin is a lover
of horses, and has delighted in tracing with her pen the beauty and
grace of the noble animal.


"=Yours with All My Heart=:" The Autobiography of a Real Dog. By ESTHER
M. BAXENDALE. Very fully illustrated with upwards of a hundred drawings
by Etheldred B. Barry.

  Large 12mo, cloth decorative      $1.50

Mrs. Baxendale's charming story, though written primarily for children,
will find a warm welcome from all those who love animals. It is a true
story of a deeply loved pet and companion of the author's for thirteen
years; and it cannot fail to inspire in the hearts of all the young
people fortunate enough to hear it that affection and sympathy for
domestic animals so essential in the moulding of character.

It is delightfully human in its interest, and contains, besides the
main theme of a rarely beautiful dog life, character sketches which
show keen observation and that high order of talent requisite in
writing for children, and exemplified in "Black Beauty" and "Beautiful
Joe," of a place beside which, the publishers believe, "Yours with All
My Heart" will be found worthy.


=Songs and Rhymes for the Little Ones.= Compiled by MARY WHITNEY
MORRISON (Jenny Wallis).

New edition, with an introduction by Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, with eight
illustrations.

  One vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative      $1.00

No better description of this admirable book can be given than Mrs.
Whitney's happy introduction:

"One might almost as well offer June roses with the assurance of
their sweetness, as to present this lovely little gathering of verse,
which announces itself, like them, by its deliciousness. Yet as Mrs.
Morrison's charming volume has long been a delight to me, I am only too
happy to link my name with its new and enriched form in this slight
way, and simply declare that it is to me the most bewitching book of
songs for little people that I have ever known."




COSY CORNER SERIES

  It is the intention of the publishers that this shall contain
    only the very highest and purest literature,--stories that
    shall not only appeal to the children themselves, but be
    appreciated by all those who feel with them in their joys
    and sorrows.

  The numerous illustrations in each book are by well-known
    artists, and each volume has a separate attractive cover
    design.

  Each, 1 vol., 16mo, cloth      $0.50



_By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON_


=The Little Colonel.= (Trade Mark.)

The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its heroine is a small
girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, on account of her fancied
resemblance to an old-school Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and
old family are famous in the region. This old Colonel proves to be the
grandfather of the child.


=The Giant Scissors.=

This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in France,--the
wonderful house with the gate of The Giant Scissors, Jules, her little
playmate, Sister Denisa, the cruel Brossard, and her dear Aunt Kate.
Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, and in later volumes
shares with her the delightful experiences of the "House Party" and the
"Holidays."


=Two Little Knights of Kentucky,=

WHO WERE THE LITTLE COLONEL'S NEIGHBORS.

In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an old friend, but
with added grace and charm. She is not, however, the central figure of
the story, that place being taken by the "two little knights."


=Cicely and Other Stories for Girls.=

The readers of Mrs. Johnston's charming juveniles will be glad to learn
of the issue of this volume for young people, written in the author's
sympathetic and entertaining manner.


=Aunt 'Liza's Hero and Other Stories.=

A collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal to all
boys and most girls.


=Big Brother.=

A story of two boys. The devotion and care of Steven, himself a small
boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of the simple tale, the pathos
and beauty of which has appealed to so many thousands.


=Ole Mammy's Torment.=

"Ole Mammy's Torment" has been fitly called "a classic of Southern
life." It relates the haps and mishaps of a small negro lad, and tells
how he was led by love and kindness to a knowledge of the right.


=The Story of Dago.=

In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, a pet monkey,
owned jointly by two brothers. Dago tells his own story, and the
account of his haps and mishaps is both interesting and amusing.


=The Quilt That Jack Built.=

A pleasant little story of a boy's labor of love, and how it changed
the course of his life many years after it was accomplished. Told in
Mrs. Johnston's usual vein of quaint charm and genuine sincerity.



_By EDITH ROBINSON_


=A Little Puritan's First Christmas.=

A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how Christmas was invented
by Betty Sewall, a typical child of the Puritans, aided by her brother
Sam.


=A Little Daughter of Liberty.=

The author's motive for this story is well indicated by a quotation
from her introduction, as follows:

"One ride is memorable in the early history of the American Revolution,
the well-known ride of Paul Revere. Equally deserving of commendation
is another ride,--untold in verse or story, its records preserved only
in family papers or shadowy legend, the ride of Anthony Severn was no
less historic in its action or memorable in its consequences."


=A Loyal Little Maid.=

A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary days, in which the
child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders important services to George
Washington.


=A Little Puritan Rebel.=

Like Miss Robinson's successful story of "A Loyal Little Maid," this
is another historical tale of a real girl, during the time when the
gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massachusetts.


=A Little Puritan Pioneer.=

The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement at
Charlestown. The little girl heroine adds another to the list of
favorites so well known to the young people.


=A Little Puritan Bound Girl.=

A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great interest to
youthful readers.



_By OUIDA_ (_Louise de la RamÃ©e_)


=A Dog Of Flanders=: A CHRISTMAS STORY.

Too well and favorably known to require description.


=The NÃ¼rnberg Stove.=

This beautiful story has never before been published at a popular price.


=A Provence Rose.=

A story perfect in sweetness and in grace.


=Findelkind.=

A charming story about a little Swiss herdsman.



_By MISS MULOCK_


=The Little Lame Prince.=

A delightful story of a little boy who has many adventures by means of
the magic gifts of his fairy godmother.


=Adventures of a Brownie.=

The story of a household elf who torments the cook and gardener, but is
a constant joy and delight to the children who love and trust him.


=His Little Mother.=

Miss Mulock's short stories for children are a constant source of
delight to them, and "His Little Mother," in this new and attractive
dress, will be welcomed by hosts of youthful readers.


=Little Sunshine's Holiday.=

An attractive story of a summer outing. "Little Sunshine" is another
of those beautiful child-characters for which Miss Mulock is so justly
famous.



_By JULIANA HORATIA EWING_


=Jackanapes.=

A new edition, with new illustrations, of this exquisite and touching
story, dear alike to young and old.


=Story of a Short Life.=

This beautiful and pathetic story will never grow old. It is a part of
the world's literature, and will never die.


=A Great Emergency.=

How a family of children prepared for a great emergency, and how they
acted when the emergency came.


=The Trinity Flower.=

In this little volume are collected three of Mrs. Ewing's best short
stories for the young people.


=Madam Liberality.=

From her cradle up Madam Liberality found her chief delight in giving.



_By FRANCES MARGARET FOX_


=The Little Giant's Neighbours.=

A charming nature story of a "little giant" whose neighbours were the
creatures of the field and garden.


=Farmer Brown and the Birds.=

A little story which teaches children that the birds are man's best
friends.


=Betty of Old Mackinaw.=

A charming story of child-life, appealing especially to the little
readers who like stories of "real people."


=Mother Nature's Little Ones.=

Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, or "childhood,"
of the little creatures out-of-doors.



_By WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE_


=The Farrier's Dog and His Fellow.=

This story, written by the gifted young Southern woman, will appeal to
all that is best in the natures of the many admirers of her graceful
and piquant style.


=The Fortunes of the Fellow.=

Those who read and enjoyed the pathos and charm of "The Farrier's Dog
and His Fellow" will welcome the further account of the "Adventures of
Baydaw and the Fellow" at the home of the kindly smith.


=The Best of Friends.=

This continues the experiences of the Farrier's dog and his Fellow,
written in Miss Dromgoole's well-known charming style.



_By FRANCES HODGES WHITE_


=Helena's Wonderworld.=

A delightful tale of the adventures of a little girl in the mysterious
regions beneath the sea.


=Aunt Nabby's Children.=

This pretty little story, touched with the simple humor of country
life, tells of two children who were adopted by Aunt Nabby.



_By MARSHALL SAUNDERS_


=For His Country.=

A sweet and graceful story of a little boy who loved his country;
written with that charm which has endeared Miss Saunders to hosts of
readers.


=Nita, the Story of an Irish Setter.=

In this touching little book, Miss Saunders shows how dear to her heart
are all of God's dumb creatures.

       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber's Note: Obvious punctuation errors repaired.






