There is the store, now the mission-house and church appear
from behind yonder rock. The Eskimoes are firing their shots of
welcome, answered by rockets from the ship. Thank God, the station
flag is flying at the mast-head! That tells us that neither illness
nor accident have been permitted to carry off any of the missionaries.
Look behind you. The hills are glowing with a glorious
"Alpengluehen"--an evening effect as splendid as it is surprising.
Now we are nearer. They are launching the "Emily," the station boat.
Rowed by natives, she comes alongside almost as soon as our anchor is
down, and all the resident missionaries climb on board, followed by a
number of Eskimoes.
Soon our hosts carry us off to the hospitable little mission-house,
which somehow or another manages to find comfortable quarters for all
the visitors. I am writing up my diary in Mr. and Mrs. Rinderknecht's
pleasant rooms, which I am to share with Mr. Kaestner, who is on his
way to Nain to take part in our conference there. Mr. and Mrs. Martin
are occupying the spare room below us, and the Lundbergs have also
turned out to make room for Mr. and Mrs. Dam.
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