Roy slowly arose, intending to make a dignified exit, but even a fur-trader’s powers of endurance have their limits, and he stumbled quickly across the kitchen and precipitated himself through the low exit into the fresh air, and, with feelings of grateful relief, filled his lungs with the crisp oxygen. His confinement in the smoky iglo had made him quite ill.
Entering the one erected for him by the hospitable Eskimos, Roy found Delgezie awaiting his return and supper prepared.
The old Indian was smiling. “They’re giving a dance,” he observed, glancing at the trader with eyes that twinkled.
“The deuce they are; and they’ll expect me to attend, I suppose,” grumbled Roy.
“Expect so,” said Delgezie drily.
Further comment was stopped by the appearance of Acpa, who approached with a face which radiated cheerfulness and goodwill. He squatted down and partook of the food handed to him with apparent relish, for intercourse with the white man had given him a taste for bread, tea and sugar, and even coffee.
After finishing the meal he proffered his unwelcome invitation in this wise: “The Innuit are happy,” pause. “They are glad to see you,” pause and a smile. “Innuit will dance,” another pause and smile, then ingratiatingly, “The ‘master’ will come?” Here an expansive smile spread over his heavy features and broadened into a laugh.
Roy received the invitation with an assenting nod, and forced a smile to his lips. He inwardly shrank at the thought of having again to enter Acpa’s odorous and smoky abode, yet he dissembled, for he knew that his presence at the dance was a thing of course.
Presently the soft tap-tap of a drum was heard, and Acpa got slowly to his feet, while Roy arose with assumed alacrity and followed his host to the scene of revelry.
Since the trader’s last visit a number of young men had returned from the hunt, and these were now seated in a circle eating ravenously of frozen meat, raw and unsightly.