When the ice became solid, the natives came on their dog sleds from villages far away. Sometimes they brought skins and whalebones to exchange for tobacco and brandy, but they obtained very little of the latter from the men on the _Vega_. As winter advanced, the natives’ provisions gave out. Then they gathered around the ship at the time when they knew the crew were at dinner, and begged for food so hard that one day the cook himself came out with a large kettle full of meat soup. The Tchuktches seized it like starving animals and bailed it out with spoons, empty tin cans, and even with their hands. Nordenskjöld gave them all the food he could spare, but in spite of his kindness the plump little babies grew thin and hollow-eyed. One day the Tchuktche hunters killed a polar bear and several seals. Then begging ceased for a few days, and they rested from hunting and lived on the fat of the land, without any thought of the future. [Illustration: HUNTING REINDEER.] A few days later a procession of Tchuktches was again seen, coming in single file over the ice toward the ship, each man carrying a piece of ice on his shoulder. This he gave to the cook, begging for something to eat in return; and you may be sure that all the food that could be spared was given to these poor people. One morning a number of men approached the ship, dragging a dog sledge on which a man lay so quietly that Nordenskjöld thought he must be ill or dead. To his surprise, when the sledge reached the side of the vessel, the man climbed rapidly to the deck and saluted. He then informed Nordenskjöld in broken Russian that he was the great chief of the Tchuktches, and, as a mark of his high rank, he had been drawn over the ice by men instead of dogs. This man’s name was Menka. He gave Nordenskjöld two roasts of reindeer meat, and in return received some tobacco and a woolen shirt. Finding that Menka was going to a Russian town some distance away, Nordenskjöld asked him to carry a letter to the Russian authorities there, as he wanted to let King Oscar know where he was. Menka consented, and Nordenskjöld wrote the letter and gave it to him. Whether Menka misunderstood or not, no one knows; but when he reached shore he assembled the Tchuktches, opened the letter, and, holding it upside down, gravely read it in his own language to his admiring audience. His hearers thought him very learned indeed. The next day the great chief again visited the _Vega_, but no one mentioned the letter for fear of hurting his feelings. Menka doubtless meant no harm. The Tchuktches seem to have been very democratic in their sentiments; they refused to admit that Menka was their chief, saying that they were just as good as he was.