The latter glanced at them with dull indifference. If he had any pronounced feeling at all, it was one of disgust that these queer strangers should be interested in such trivial things when there were seals and bears and walruses to be hunted.
Bobby kept on turning the pages of one book after another until Mooloo yawned and turned away his eyes. Still Bobby persisted, until with an impatient grunt the Eskimo pushed the book away and fell to mending one of his spears.
This was just what Bobby had hoped for. It was safe to say that only main force could make Mooloo look again at one of the books for which he had conceived a profound contempt.
The snow still persisted, and for this the boys were intensely grateful. They had never thought that they would be thankful for being snowbound on that bleak Arctic coast. But now they needed time above everything else, for the work they had in hand must be done with exceeding care to avoid any possibility of a slip.
The rest of that day was lost for the purpose, for Mooloo had done all the hunting he cared for, and he had plenty of work on hand in skinning the seal. But the next morning he again went out to try his luck, and then the boys worked with feverish energy to carry out their plan.
Before the guide returned, this time in a bad humor because his efforts had been fruitless, they had made notable progress. Mooloo was getting restless and wanted to return to his home, but he knew that it would be unwise under present weather conditions. But he gruffly announced his belief that on the second day from then the storm would have so far abated that they might make the return trip in safety.
The delay was to the boys what a reprieve would be to a condemned man, and they so well employed the next day that when Mooloo returned in the evening with two seal carcasses and in high feather their work was done. The snow had stopped falling and it was arranged that they should set out bright and early on the following morning.
The day broke clear but terribly cold. Still, by this time, the boys had become partly used to the climate and they were sustained by an internal fire that made them flout the cold.
While Mooloo got the boat ready and bestowed in it his hunting weapons and other belongings, the boys lugged out the books and put them in the boat. The books were now much heavier than they had been with their former paper contents, and the boys wanted nobody to handle them but themselves. They did not have to fight for this privilege, for Mooloo was only too content to let them handle their burdens alone, and he gave them an occasional glance that had in it something of amused contempt at the store they set on such worthless things.
Still, if these queer people wanted to indulge in such things it was no affair of his as long as he got paid for his trouble. And it may have been the desire to have his pay that made him put especial force in the strokes with which he drove his craft along. Of course he may also have had a desire to see again as soon as possible Mrs. Mooloo and the little Mooloos, but Mooloo was not sentimental.