One of the Hopedale paths leads "to the heathen," and what more
interesting spot could we visit than those three mounds, which are all
that remain of the former winter dwellings of the original heathen
population. One by one, and sometimes several at once, when the Spirit
of the Lord was powerfully bringing home to their hearts the Gospel
preached by the early missionaries, the inmates of these abodes moved
from their pagan surroundings and began to make themselves Christian
homes around the mission-houses.

On our way to the long uninhabited ruins of this older group of
abodes, we will pass through the Christian village, which has thus
sprung up at Hopedale as at all the other stations. It consists of
irregular groups of little log houses, planted with little attempt at
symmetry. Their Eskimo owners have no idea of a street. Perhaps some
day the conception may occur to them as they read in their Bibles of
"the street which was called straight." Nor do they need any words in
their language for "rent," "rates," or, "taxes." Here in the south and
at the station most influenced by civilization, the majority of the
little houses are built of logs and even roofed with wood. Some are
covered with turf. The dwellings of our people in the north are much
more primitive. Each house has its low porch, a very necessary
addition in this land of "winter's frost and snowing."

Between the houses and in their porches lie many dogs. One of these
wolf-like creatures follows us over the rocks to the burial-ground,
and then runs off to fish on his own account. The dogs scour the shore
for miles in search of food, for, with the exception of those
belonging to our stores, they mostly have to forage for themselves.
They like seal and reindeer meat, but there are times when they can
get neither flesh nor fish. Then they turn vegetarians, spring over