"During the last two days I obtained some information with respect to mourning ceremonies, or, at all events, such as related to the loss of a mother of a family; three days were to be passed by the survivors without their walking on the ice, performing any kind of work, or even having anything made for them. Washing is out of the question with Esquimaux at most times, but now I was not allowed to perform the necessary ablutions of their hands and faces, however greasy or dirty they might be made by their food; the girl's hair was not to be put into pig-tails, and everything was neglected; Takkeelikkeeta was not to go sealing until the summer. With the exception of an occasional sigh from the man, there were no more signs of grief; our mourners ate, drank, and were merry, and no one would have supposed they ever had wife, mother, or sister. When the three days (and it is singular that such should be the time) were expired, the man was to visit the grave; and, having talked with his wife, all duties were to be considered as over. The 28th was our third day, but a heavy northerly gale and thick drift prevented our visiting the grave. The 29th, although not fine, was more moderate, and I accompanied him at an early hour. Arriving at the grave, he anxiously walked up to it and carefully sought for foot-tracks on the snow; but, finding none, repeated to himself, 'No wolves, no dogs, no foxes; thank ye, thank ye.' He now began a conversation, which he directed entirely to his wife. He called her twice by name, and twice told her how the wind was blowing, looking at the same time in the direction from whence the drift was coming. He next broke forth into a low monotonous chant, and, keeping his eyes fixed upon the grave, walked slowly round it in the direction of the sun four or five times, and at each circuit he stopped a few moments at the head. His song was, however, uninterrupted. At the expiration of about eight minutes he stopped, and, suddenly turning round to me, exclaimed, '_Tugw~a_' (that's enough), and began walking back to the ship. In the song he chanted I could frequently distinguish the word _Koyenna_ (thank you), and it was occasionally coupled with the Kabloonas. Two other expressions, both the names of the spirits or familiars of the Annatko, Toolemak, were used a few times; but the whole of the other words were perfectly unintelligible to me.