It seemed they had come from Fox Channel, many “sleeps” away, and had travelled over hills and across frozen bays and through deep snow, for days and days, in order to visit this tribe. In a twinkling the dogs were unharnessed and fed, the sleds unloaded, and the guests carried off into the hospitable igloo under the cliff. Then matters began to clear, and the object of the journey declared itself. A head man and his wife, it seemed, had come this long distance on behalf of their son, a lad of about fifteen, a promising young hunter of marriageable age, who desired to find a wife. No girl in his own tribe had taken his fancy, but the family had heard of a likely bride in the Middle Coast tribe, and had come to see her and her people. She had the reputation of being clever at all household duties, docile and pleasing in manner, with eyes like sloes and hair as glossy black as the raven’s wing. Moreover, they had heard that she had no relatives and dependents except a widowed mother. The whole idea had pleased them so much—mother, father and son—that here they were, to look into the thing for themselves, to give and receive news, and to do a bit of incidental trading. They settled down in camp for a few days, and both hosts and visitors thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Negotiations proceeded apace, without hitch or difficulty, and at last were brought to a pleasant conclusion. The prize secured, a day was fixed for the departure of the bride and bridegroom and his people. Her treasures and possessions were packed on the sleds, and with many tears she said goodbye to the good folk of her own village. All seemed to augur well for the wedding journey. The sky was clear and the sun shone. The ice was perfect and the snow well packed and good for sled travelling. The dogs, rested and well fed, flew over the ground in high spirits. The sleeping houses built en route by the wooer’s party, proved to have remained intact; the frozen meat and blubber, buried beneath the floor in each of them, had not been disturbed. The first night was spent in singing. The young man gave a vocal account of the exploits of his tribe and of his own prowess in hunting, to an audience consisting of his admiring parents and the bride. All went merrily, too, the second day out; but after that, disaster overtook the party.