high enough to be out of reach of the dogs, who sniff about
everywhere, sometimes climbing into the boats to see if any fish be
left. Those red rows are trout, the white ones are cod.

When we arrived here last Sunday, two families were living in skin
tents. One has now taken down the temporary abode and removed into the
more permanent winter residence, a low turf hut. We will enter the
other tent. Frederick, the owner, is not at home, but his wife,
Susannah, is there with her two children. Whilst she inquires after
her former missionaries and sends a grateful greeting to the widow of
the late Samuel Weitz, take the opportunity to glance around the tent.
It is more spacious and better furnished than one would think. We can
all three stand upright in the middle of it, which is not possible in
every house. Deer skins spread on a raised platform at the further end
make two beds. In that open box are hymn-book, liturgy-book, and some
volumes of the Eskimo Bible. Next it are a set of very fair cups and
saucers, but it seems incongruous for the china to stand on the mud
floor. Various utensils lie about, but there is neither chair nor
table.

We cannot stay long, however, for we are going to visit every house in
the place. The first house is Gottlob's. He came hither from Hebron,
and has enjoyed a better education than the Ramah people, most of whom
grew up in heathenism. His wife's baptismal name is Lydia; as a
heathen, she was Auinasuak. This is one of the best huts, but the best
are poor inside as well as outside, compared to many log-houses I have
seen further south. Through the low porch, without any remonstrance
from the dogs, we reach a lower door. It is hot inside. Yes, there is
a stove to the left, and it appears to be the only article of
furniture in the room entered. Behind the partition is a very