The perfect poise, the powerful thrust, the long trajectory and the final, squashing hit just behind the ear were enough to excite the envy of an Olympic javelin thrower.[21] The feat was the more remarkable when it is considered that a seal's ear is on the inside and, therefore, invisible.
Some of the novices in my party were slightly overcome by the mad rush of Makuik's family toward the stricken carcass from which they tore and devoured long strips of blubber, but needless to say this was an old story to me. Fresh seal's eyes are a coveted tid-bit, and I was much touched when Ikik brought me one, warm and quivering, in the palm of her hand. It was plainly a love offering as I saw when I looked from her eyes to that of the seal. One should chew them, not gulp them down, in order to get the full flavor which is not unlike a Cape Cod oyster, though more salty and slightly oily.
The women were particularly fond of leading us on searching parties in quest of seal roe, which we found in large quantities in the shallow nests lined with the yellow wax which exudes from the pores of the mother. Both roe and wax are highly prized by the natives who spread them, mixed, on squares of seal hide, forming sandwiches. In winter the seal fur is also included on account of the extra warmth which is provided.[22]
It was a happy thought of mine to present Ikik with an enormous church candle which, having been blessed, had been presented to me by the Bishop Metaxis Polyphlosboios in Constantinople. Ikik and I were alone when I offered it, in return for the eye she had given me. I wish my readers could have seen her divine smile as she touched, smelled and finally tasted the white cylinder, which was so much more refined than the fresh fat and tallow which had been daily pabulum.
"Tapok, Ataki! Traprock, I adore you!" she cried, throwing herself at my feet and chewing the uppers of my moccasins, the native expression of complete devotion.
"Enough!" I murmured, raising her by her hair; "here come the others."
Though my "affaire de cœur" was progressing satisfactorily, I was forced to walk warily. Some of my fellows were infernal busy-bodies and Sausalito, poor wretch, watched over me with furious jealousy.
Innumerable were the diversions of those happy, happy days, the mad pursuit of an occasional musk-ox, of which the women were insanely fond because of the perfume derived from its peripatetic gland, and the absorbingly interesting observations of the Arctic guppys, those unique fish which bear their live and full-formed young on the ice without the tedious formality of laying an egg. The mother guppy immediately eats her offspring and the race between her and the Eskimo audience to see which could get the most, was not the least amusing phase of this quaint accouchement.
And then the long, twilight evenings, snuggled down in the deep furs of our friends, sharing the warmth of our tiny Primus under the Kawa's lee, crooning our songs, passing our plugs and our gay banter. I feel sure than I shall never be nearer heaven.
On an immemorial date, for our watches had long ago run down, we sat thus in our little Arctic circle listening languidly to a number on Whinney's radio,—"What the Sunday Schools of Kansas are Doing," I believe it was,—no; "The weather a hundred years ago today," that was it,—when I suddenly realized that it was dark; not twilight, but actually dark!