Poor Kalli's lamentations were quite heartrending. His feelings were, of course, respected, the graves were at once built up again, and the spear replaced. Captain Ommanney learnt afterwards from Kalli, that it was his father's grave, over which the spear had been placed by friends of the deceased. They have a tradition that in a future state the means of hunting are still required, and, because in this world the search of food is the chief object of life, the hunting-lance is deposited on the grave. The young stranger subsequently lived on board the "Assistance". He was placed under the care of the serjeant of Marines, who instructed Kalli in the rudiments of reading and writing, and to whom he became much attached. By his amiable disposition he made himself welcome and agreeable to all the expedition, and, as, in consequence of the state of the ice, no opportunity was offered of landing him on his native shores, on the return of the vessel past York Inlet, he was brought to England. The leaders of the expedition conferred the surname of York upon him, from the locality in which he was found. To this the name of Erasmus was prefixed, after that of the gallant Captain Ommanney. Lines on "Kallihirua in the Ship" Kalli was a twin. His father, whose grave has been mentioned, had been dead for some years, but he had a mother living, of whom he often spoke with duty and affection. His father's name was Kirshung-oak. His mother's Sa-toor-ney. He had two sisters living with their mother. A touching circumstance, connected with his first introduction to our countrymen, has been adverted to, which gave rise to the following lines by the writer of this memoir. They were published in the "Gospel Missionary," in the year of the arrival of Kallihirua, and are supposed to be spoken by a British sailor on board the "Assistance"-- KALLI IN THE SHIP A frost, like iron, held the air, A calm was on the sea, But fields of ice were spreading there, And closing on our lee. Our ship half bound, as if aground, Was scarcely seen to go. All hands on deck were gather'd round The little ESKIMAUX. For he had come amongst our crew, A week or so before, And now we knew not what to do To put him safe ashore. Poor lad, he strain'd his eyes in vain, Till tears began to come, And tried if he could see again His mother and his home. The Captain then saw through his glass The Inlet, and the Bay, But floes of ice, as green as grass, And icebergs block'd the way. "Up with the sail!--the wind's awake!" Hark to the Captain's call, "I see, my boys, we shall not make York Inlet, after all." We look'd upon the swarthy lad, Then look'd upon each other, And all were sure that he was sad With thinking of his mother. We cheer'd him up, and soon he grew So useful and so kind, The crew were glad, and Kalli too, He was not left behind.