Further along a little group of Eskimoes have just finished unloading a boat, which has brought goods from the ship. Let us join them, for I want to see a whip, such as they use in driving the dog-sledge. My request is interpreted and one of the natives runs to fetch his. Truly it is a formidable instrument. The wooden handle is only a few inches in length, but the lash is more than thirty feet. It is made of many thongs of stout, tough sealskin sown together, and tapering till a single thong goes off almost to a point. The owner gives us a specimen of its powers by cracking it, but I am glad he does not practice on anything living. Stepping backwards from us, he drags the whip out to its full length, so as to be sure he is beyond reach of us, then deftly throws the lash behind him. Now a rapid movement of the hand and arm sends the long lash back towards us, and a quick turn of the wrist makes the end of it crack like a pistol. I have purchased that implement, but I doubt if any amount of practice would enable me to perform the feat of cracking it with safety to myself and the bystanders. To the east of the mission-house there is a pretty waterfall about ten or twelve feet in depth. It is the last leap of a mountain brook, which in summer flows swiftly down the deep ravine, which it has cut. Higher up, a part of the pure, clear stream is diverted as the water supply for the mission-house and the native huts. As at Hopedale and Zoar, this runs off a trough about a hundred yards from the house. At Nain and Okak it is conducted straight into the kitchen, when desired. In winter every station is liable to the freezing of the ordinary supply, and then water must be fetched from a distance, or if none can be found, snow or ice must be melted. Icicles are hanging from the trough here to-day, for though the sun is warm now, there were four or five degrees of frost last night, and the wind is still keen. In spring, when a thaw sets in, this little stream is a source of danger to Ramah. Its deep channel is filled with snow, and the pent-up torrent, seeking an outlet, is apt to escape from its usual bounds and start an avalanche down the steep declivity. When the thaw becomes general, there is a grand series of leaping cataracts and roaring rapids in that ravine. [Illustration: AN ESKIMO IN HIS KAYAK.] A FAITHFUL NATIVE HELPER.