a distance of about four miles discovered to the left the mouth of another small river flowing in from the westward, and, much to our delight, upon its sandy beaches found dead willow drift-wood in such quantities that we were able to load the canoes with it. Signs of Eskimos were also observed here. Three miles farther north, just west of a remarkable white sand-hill or moraine, three hundred feet in height, the Telzoa, now a broad swift stream, was again entered.
Towards evening we sighted upon the right bank, some distance ahead of us, the solitary lodge of an Eskimo. In front of the doorway stood a man gazing toward us, and behind and around him excited women and children were gathered. These were all quickly placed inside the "topick" or lodge, and the doorway laced up securely. But he, remaining outside, continued to watch us intently. Our canoes were no doubt taken to be those of the "Ik-kil-lin" (the Indians) from the south—their hereditary enemies—so they expected no good thing from us.
Our own men, recalling to mind the stories of the "savage Eskimos who would undoubtedly eat them," were scarcely less fearful than the solitary native, who, as we drew nearer, was observed through our glasses to be nervous and trembling. As soon as we had approached to within calling distance, I stood up in my canoe and shouted, "Chimo! chimo! cudloona uvagut peeaweunga tacko Enuit" (Halloo! halloo! we are white men, glad to see the Eskimos). Before my words were finished the doorway of the topick was torn open, and with great rejoicing and excited gestures all the inmates scrambled out to meet us at the shore as we landed.
