The punishments are confined to fines, to be deducted at a certain percentage, until paid, from every thing the hunter sells to the Government; and the means of collection are quite effectual; for, unless the criminal comes into the arrangements of his plan as decreed by Parliament, he is wholly excluded from any participation in the benefits of the colony; that is to say, he is not allowed to buy or trade for any thing—neither a rifle, ammunition, bread, coffee, sugar, nor tobacco—a penalty against which no one was ever known to hold out long. Cases of actual crime are rare. If the offense should be a capital one, or one involving the sentence of a court of justice, the offender, or supposed offender, is sent home for trial to Denmark. But one case falling under this head came to my knowledge. This was a young mother suspected of infanticide. The child that would have dishonored her was found upon a rock whence the tide would soon have carried it off, had not some prying individual there discovered it and taken it to the village, where it was interred. The young woman was charged with having destroyed it. She confessed that it was hers, but that it was dead when born; and since she could not bury it, and could not bear to throw it into the sea herself, she placed it on the rock and hid herself away, that she might not see it disappear. Her story was accepted on the simple ground of the unnaturalness of the crime charged; for the love of the mother for her offspring among these Greenlanders is wonderfully strong. What would our ancestors of a few hundred years back have said to being hauled up for an act like this, when they had not only natural law, as they thought, but human law as well, to support them in “exposure of infants,” when they were either too poor or too lazy to provide for all the little ones that were brought into the world?