His lower beak is like a shovel, and his tongue is like a spoon.
They come together (the Ptarmigans) in the winter;
They walk together, and make a soft sleeping place
By covering the hard rocks with dung.
But their breasts freeze hard down to this,
They flap their wings,
And try to fly away …”
The singer goes through all the appropriate (if somewhat broad) actions of this bit of burlesque, flapping his arms to ridicule the birds caught fast on the rocks in their own frozen droppings. The Ptarmigan is not slow to respond.
THE SONG OF THE HUNTER.
Panneyukpayiyeyâ â sakkokalemukkoa