“Have they got much meat?”
Again the young man nodded.
“Good. There is nothing like meat, and plenty of it.”
The old man proceeded to illustrate his belief in the sentiment by devoting himself to a steak of satisfying dimensions. His better-half meanwhile took up the conversation.
“Is Gartok with them?” she asked.
“Yes, he is with them,” said the youth, who, having finished the rib, threw away the bone and looked across the lamp at Nootka, as if asking for another. The girl had one ready, and handed it to him.
Again Oolalik was overcome. He forgot the food and stared, so that Nootka dropped her eyes, presumably in some confusion; but once more the force of hunger brought the youth round and he resumed his meal.
“Has Gartok killed much?” continued the inquisitive Mrs Mangivik.
“I know nothing about Gartok,” replied the young man, a stern look taking the place of his usually kind expression; “I don’t trouble my head about him when I am hunting.”
He fastened his teeth somewhat savagely in the second rib at this point.