They decided to run away together, and that she should merely feign resistance when her lover arrived to carry her off. The night came for the attempt. The old man and the girl retired to rest as usual, rolled up in their blankets on the sleeping bench, and the lamp burnt low. Now, the approach to their abode was across a neck of ice spanning a deep ravine. The youth came along, and cautiously crept over the narrow bridge. Quickly entering the igloo, and perceiving the two sleeping forms, he snatched up one of them, furs and all, and rushed back whence he had come. To evade all possibility of pursuit, he smashed down the ice bridge behind him. Then, burning to look upon the face of his bride, he drew the blankets from about her head—only to discover with the utmost consternation that he had carried off the father instead of the girl! Dropping his burden none too gently, he made off at top speed and fled into the night. The story-teller failed to draw upon his imagination as to what happened in the domestic circle thus disastrously broken up, after that. To return, however, to the chief of the legends—the legend of Sedna: There was, once upon a time, a beautiful Eskimo girl, called Sedna. She was her widowed father’s only daughter, and they abode together by the sea shore. As she grew up she was wooed by many a youth of her own tribe, and of others who came from afar. But to no single one of her lovers did her heart incline in the least. She refused altogether to marry. She had a proud spirit and delighted in disdain. At last, however, a day came when a very handsome young hunter appeared upon the scene, from a far-off strange country. Neither Sedna nor Anguta, her father, had ever heard of him before. He had beautiful skins cunningly wrought with a stripe in the coat, and a spear of ivory. His kyak drove inshore over the shining sea; but instead of landing on the beach, he poised it on the edge of the surf and called to the maiden in her tent above the strand to come off to him. He wooed her with an enticing song: “Come to me; come into the land of the birds, where there is never hunger, where my tent is made of the most beautiful skins. You shall rest on soft bearskins.... Your lamp shall always be filled with oil, your pot with meat.” Sedna, framed in the entrance of the leathern hangings, refused. She would not come down. Wholly won at first sight, maidenlike she must refuse! So he began to plead and woo. He drew for her a picture of the home where he would take her, the rich furs that he would give, and the necklaces of ivory. Even though she vowed she wanted no husband, let her come down with her bag, her sealskin sack of treasures, and fly with him! Sedna made the coy boast, “Am I not the only one who does not want a husband?” but even as she said it, her hand fell from the tent flap and she stepped down towards the sea. “Let my bag be brought....”