In the middle of the dance Akpek thought of a joke he might play on his cousin, so he said he felt hungry and that it was time to go home, and his hands were cold; and although Kak tried his best to persuade him to stay, he scrambled down from the tower.
Well, of course, there was more room to dance with only one up on top. Kak could not resist giving a final fling or two, and singing again:
“I’m the king of the castle!”
And while he was right in the middle of it Akpek looked up and shouted:
“Bears! Bears!”
Poor Kak! Every last ounce of blood dropped out of his heart. His song broke on a high note. He missed a step and nearly fell. Akpek stood still in an attitude of terror watching him come slithering and sliding down, not caring how he came. And then that cruel boy doubled over and nearly died from laughing because there were no animals at all; he had only called out to frighten his cousin whose fear of bears was known to everybody.
When Kak discovered the trick that had been played on him he felt nasty and said he was going home; and now Akpek could not persuade him to stay. The boys walked along silently trying to find a path between the ice hummocks, and not enjoying themselves a bit. Nothing takes the zest out of things like a quarrel. They felt tired from their day’s climbing, and now only wanted to get home the shortest and easiest way.
“Isn’t that Omialik?” Akpek asked brusquely, pointing to a figure scrambling over the ridge with the sun shining full upon it.
“Don’t know.”
They could tell it was one of the strangers from his long, tailless coat.