Much skill is shown in their carvings. To look at the minute walrus teeth, one-half inch in length, which have been wrought upon, one is reminded over and over again of the dexterity of the Chinese and the Japanese. Notwithstanding all this ingenuity in ornamentation, Eskimos find little pleasure in trinkets or personal frills of any kind. Remembering the stories of Captain John Smith and the Indians, bracelets, beads and rings were taken North in our first trips, in the expectation of finding appreciation. At most, these were received with gratitude for the good will. None of the women wore them or seemed particularly to care for them. Occasionally they were brought forth from a peg in the wall where they had hung for some time, and examined with a certain air of curiosity. But as for adorning themselves—such vanities did not occur to them. The _tupiks_ (tents) and _igloos_ (winter-houses) are all built after the same plans. There is only the superiority of workmanship to distinguish the abode of one man from another. We sometimes see an interesting form of competition when two huts commence building simultaneously: One man, Nupsah, has discovered a huge stone and succeeds in placing it in position. The neighbours, by their approving glances, proclaim him master builder. Presently, Pooadloonah finds a larger stone than any secured by his rival. This is placed in position, silently. Throughout the proceeding not a word has been spoken; yet within that conqueror’s breast there thrills an indisputable note of triumph and satisfaction. It is the peculiarity of this silent competition that, even when extended to greater deeds than the hauling of stones, the best of good nature is preserved on both sides. Duels and battles never take place; and there is only one case of Eskimo murder which comes within my experience. Kyo was an _angakok_ (medicine man). He knew exactly how many _sinnipahs_ (sleeps) would elapse before this or that man would die—almost as well as our weather bureau can prophesy the coming of a storm. Often he went into trances, for this is necessary when one is an _angakok_. But people do not like to be told that they are about to expire, particularly when time proves that the medicine man must have miscalculated. Such was the case with our Eskimos. Those of a more optimistic frame of mind took exception to a man who could inspire the sick with so much terror; accordingly, a plot was set for the riddance of his evil spirit. Their “plot” was nothing more than a scurvy trick; they reasoned between them that it was justice. One day, Kyo was asked to accompany a hunting party, little suspecting that he was to be the object of the hunt. About five miles from camp he was struck from behind, and fell, hardly realising what had taken place. Then, lest his spirit should escape, he was buried and weighted with stones.