They kept on drilling and making warlike noises with their mouths till the ice melted and the cod came in. And after that, in the struggle with the cold sea and the barren land for a living they forgot all about war and the rumors of war.
There were seals and bears and foxes to be hunted, instead of men.
Dr. Grenfell found one man who was lucky enough to catch a black fox in a trap of stones.
He was so happy over the catch that tears of joy ran down his face as he carried the precious skin to the store. He said God had heard his prayers and made his family suddenly rich.
The storekeeper paid him forty-five dollars. That seemed like a fortune. The price was not paid in cash, however, but in food.
Staggering under the load he came back to his hut, and when the stuff was put on the shelves it looked like such a lot he began to think he and his family never would be able to get it eaten before the end of the world came.
So he sent out for his friends and neighbors.
Be sure they came. An Eskimo can smell food cooking (or even merely rotting) for miles beyond the power of sight to detect it.
The invitation ran: "Come and eat and stay with me." And then the Eskimo ran too, the big ones tumbling over the little ones, and the dogs outstripping their masters, and all making loud noises according to their kind.
Alas! in two days they had literally eaten their generous host out of house and home, and along with the dogs of the quarreling packs there was the wolf of hunger gnawing at the door.