Our Little Eskimo Cousin

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.