noo of three reindeer, which he has killed since his leaving the boat on Friday noon. In all, our party of hunters have killed eleven reindeer, but very little of the venison has been saved—simply the skins and tood-noo.... This afternoon the wife of Jack has been ankooting sick Tweroong. The sun set to-night fine. I never saw more beautiful days and nights than here—the sky with all the mellow tints that a poet could conceive. The moon and aurora now make the nights glorious.
"Monday, August 26th.—This morning not a cloud to be seen. Puto visited me, the kodluna infant at her back. I made her some little presents—pipe, beads, file, and knife, and a small piece of one of the adjuncts of civilization—soap. Somehow I thought it possible that I had made an error of one day in keeping run of the days of the month, but the lunar and solar distances of yesterday have satisfied me that I was correct. I started on a walk up the hills. I came to an Innuit monument, and many relics of former inhabitants—three earth excavations, made when the Innuits built their houses in the ground. I now see a company of eight wolves across the river, howling and running around the rocks—howling just like the Innuit dogs. Now beside a noble river. Its waters are pure as crystal. From this river I have taken a draught on eating by its banks American cheese and American bread. The American flag floats flauntingly over it as the music of its waters seems to be 'Yankee Doodle.' I see not why this river should not have an American name. Its waters are an emblem of purity. I know of no fitter name to bestow upon it than that of the daughter of my generous, esteemed friend, Henry Grinnell. I therefore, with the flag of my country in one hand, my other in the limpid stream, denominate it 'Sylvia Grinnell River.'
"For the first half mile from the sea proper it runs quietly. The next quarter of a mile it falls perhaps fifteen feet, running violently over rocks. The next mile up it is on a level; then come falls again of ten feet in one fifth of a mile; and thence (up again) its course is meandering through low level land.
