“Perhaps it’ll be better not to know,” Bob grinned.
Whatever it was, however, it tasted good, and they ate heartily of everything.
“Now I’m going to get in touch with the chief, whose name I recently learned is Reemikuk,” announced Professor Bigelow. “But first, however, I must have my typewriter. That means a trip to the boats.”
“And while he’s doing that, Mr. Lewis and I can have a look about the village,” Bob’s father said. “Perhaps you boys can show us the places and things of interest. Will you do it?”
“To be sure we will,” returned Joe. “But first,” he said with a grim smile, “you must prepare yourselves to see things that are unpleasant.”
“What do you mean?” his father demanded.
For answer the youths led the way to the trophy house and its hideous contents.
Impulsively the naturalists shrank back in disgust at the scene. Never had they laid eyes on such a place of horror before.
“To think,” muttered Mr. Lewis, “that even these wild people could do such hideous things!”