“My party made a hearty breakfast on the 26th, and I observed they did not scruple to lay the vessel containing the meat on the dead child, which I had wrapped in a blanket; and this unnatural table excited neither disgust nor any other feeling among them more than a block of wood could have done.  We now tied up all the dogs, as Takkeelikkeeta had desired, and took the child about a quarter of a mile astern of the ships, to bury it in the snow; for the father assured me that her mother would cry in her grave if any weight of stones or earth pressed on her infant.  She herself, he feared, had already felt pain from the monument of stones which we had laid upon her.  The snow in which we dug the child’s grave was not above a foot deep, yet we were not allowed to cut into the ice, or even use any slabs of it in constructing the little tomb.  The body, wrapped in a blanket, and having the face uncovered, being placed, the father put the slings by which its deceased mother had carried it on the right side, and, in compliance with the Esquimaux custom of burying toys and presents with their dead, I threw in some beads.  A few loose slabs of snow were now placed so as to cover, without touching, the body, and with this very slight sepulchre the father was contented, although a fox could have dug through it in half a minute.  We, however, added more snow, and cemented all by pouring about twenty buckets of water, which were brought from the ship, on every part of the mound.  I remarked that, before our task was completed, the man turned and walked quietly to the ships.

“During the last two days I obtained some information with respect to mourning ceremonies, or, at all events, such as related to the loss of a mother of a family; three days were to be passed by the survivors without their walking on the ice, performing any kind of work, or even having anything made for them.  Washing is out of the question with Esquimaux at most times, but now I was not allowed to perform the necessary ablutions of their hands and faces, however greasy or dirty they might be made by their food; the girl’s hair was not to be put into pig-tails, and everything was neglected; Takkeelikkeeta was not to go sealing until the summer.  With the exception of an occasional sigh from the man, there were no more signs of grief; our mourners ate, drank, and were merry, and no one would have supposed they ever had wife, mother, or sister.  When the three days (and it is singular that such should be the time) were expired, the man was to visit the grave; and, having talked with his wife, all duties were to be considered as over.  The 28th was our third day, but a heavy northerly gale and thick drift prevented our visiting the grave.  The 29th, although not fine, was more moderate, and I accompanied him at an early hour.  Arriving at the grave, he anxiously walked up to it and carefully sought for foot-tracks on the snow; but, finding none, repeated