These old people, soon growing tired of the warmth of Hans's tent, went ashore and built a snow-hut, and set up housekeeping on their own account; and living upon supplies which they got regularly from my abundant stores, and, with no need for exertion, it was perhaps not surprising that they should prove to be a very happy and contented couple. This snow-hut, although an architectural curiosity, would have excited the contempt of a beaver. It was nothing more than an artificial cave in a snow-bank, and was made thus: Right abreast of the ship there was a narrow gorge, in which the wintry winds had piled the snow to a great depth, leaving, as it whirled through the opening, a sort of cavern,--the curving snow-bank on the right and overhead, and the square-sided rock on the left. Starting at the inner side of this cavern, Tcheitchenguak began to bury himself in the snow, very much as a prairie-dog would do in the loose soil,--digging down into the drift, and tossing the lumps behind him with great rapidity. After going downward for about five feet, he ran off horizontally for about ten feet more. This operation completed, he now began to excavate his den. His shovel was struck into the hard snow above his head, the blocks which tumbled down were cleared away, and thrown out into the open air, and in a little while he could stand upright and work; and when at length satisfied with the size of the cave, he smoothed it off all around and overhead, and came out covered with whiteness. The door-way was now fixed up and made just large enough to crawl through on all fours; the entering tunnel was smoothed off like the inside; the floor of the cave was covered first with a layer of stones, and then with several layers of reindeer-skins; the walls were hung with the same materials; two native lamps were lighted; across the door-way was suspended another deer-skin, and Tcheitchenguak and his family were "at home." I called upon them some hours afterwards, and found them apparently warm and comfortable. The lamps (their only fire) blazed up cheerfully, and the light glistened on the white dome of this novel den; the temperature had risen to the freezing point, and Kablunet, like a good housewife, was stitching away at some article of clothing; Tcheitchenguak was repairing a harpoon for his son-in-law, and Angeit, the bright-eyed pest of the galley and the pantry, was busily engaged stowing away in a stomach largely disproportionate to the balance of his body, some bits of venison which looked very much as as if they had recently been surreptitiously obtained from a forbidden corner of the steward's store-room. [Sidenote: ESQUIMAU PRESENTS.]