Milk-punch. Venison-stew, corn-bread. Biscuit, coffee. Candy, raisins.
It was amusing to see the queer-looking creatures, dressed entirely in the skins of animals, seated at the table and trying to act like civilized people. Both the “Villain” and the “Daisy” did their parts well. One incident was especially funny. Myah, seeing a nice-looking piece of meat in the stew, reached across the table, and with his fork endeavored to pick it out of the dish. He was immediately reproved by the “Villain,” who made him pass his mess-pan to him and then helped him to what he thought he ought to have, reserving, however, the choice piece for himself. They chattered and laughed, and seemed to enjoy themselves very much. Both women had their babies in their hoods on their backs, but this did not hinder them in the least. Although at times the noise was great, the little ones slept through it all.
M’gipsu watched the cups of the others, and as soon as she spied an empty one she would say: “Etudoo cafee? Nahme? Cafee peeuk.” (More coffee? No? The coffee is good.) Finally at ten o’clock the big lamp was put out, and we told them it was time to go to sleep, and that they must go home, which they reluctantly did.
To-day has been a rather lazy day for us all, and now at 11 P. M. Mr. Peary, Dr. Cook, and Matt have just come in from a visit to the fox-traps about two miles distant. On the return they indulged in a foot-race, and when they came in they looked as if they had been dipped in water. The perspiration ran in streamlets down their faces. This trip has encouraged Mr. Peary very much in the belief that by next spring his leg will be just as good as it ever was.
Saturday, January 2, 1892. I have been lazy about writing up my notes lately, but now I shall turn over a new leaf. 1891 has gone; what will 1892 bring? I don’t think I want to know. Better take it as it comes, and hope for the best. The “Villain” and his wife have gone to their home in Netchiolumy, Myah and Kudlah also have left us, and, with the exception of Keshu (alias the “Smiler”) and his wife, all of our Eskimo visitors have departed; Ikwa and family and Annowkah and family remain, but they are not considered company at Redcliffe.