Then we flew over posts made of whalebones where hunters and trappers once tied their dogs: now the gaunt ribs stood like withered monuments to a forgotten way of life. The graveyard, fenced entirely with whale ribs weathered dark silver, came into view and I was reminded of the way buried objects rise upwards due to frost heave. Formerly the Eskimos lived virtually under the ground and put their dead on the surface. "We were warm and the dead were happy", they said. "Then the Whites came and we had to live above the ground and bury our dead — since then, we haven't been warm and the dead haven't been happy."