Still the people slept.
Kak was already unharnessing. Being so tired he wanted to get ahead with the work and reckoned on tired dogs behaving themselves. But they were hungry dogs, too. Freed from his leash Sapsuk threw up his nose and sniffed once. A strong smell of fresh fish, which he loved, perfumed the air. He sniffed again and dashed up-wind toward the source. Because he was going lickity-split up the wind, through twilight, and paying very little heed to where he went, he landed squarely on one of the sleeping village dogs before the stranger got a whiff of him. It is hard to say which of the two was the more surprised. However, there is no question which was the angrier. The under cur gave a growl like a wolf, swung his long jaw around and bit Sapsuk’s heel.
Kak’s favorite was no pup to stand liberties. He let a squeal out of him rousing all inhabitants, canine and human, and closed on his enemy.
Dogs leaped from their dreams. Dogs whirled in on every side. They barked now and bit, too. They rushed at each other and snarled and snapped and pawed and nipped. Every dog is always spoiling for a fight. They never waited to ask what it was about, but fell on the nearest animal tooth and claw; while Sapsuk and the stranger in the middle of the mix-up fought like demons. There was yapping and yowling and growling enough for a menagerie gone mad.
In about two seconds all the men came tumbling out half-dressed to see what the row meant. The children followed naked. They don’t have pajamas to sleep in, only fur blankets, and they just jumped up and ran as they were, calling:
“What’s the matter?”
“Who is it?”
“What’s struck ’em?”
The more Puckish urged on the fight with: “Go it, Scruffy!” “Lick into him, Taliak!” and cheers for their own side.
You would have whistled your dog off, but Eskimos cannot whistle. It is an unknown art up north; so the men threw themselves into the mêlée and began hauling the beasts apart by main force. Never before was such a tumult! Kak and Taptuna ran for Sapsuk, calling: “We’re friends! We have no knives!” All the people talked at once and cried aloud while the dogs snarled and snapped. The women yelled to the children: “Come out of it! Come here!” trying to drag them from under their fathers’ feet, till the children cried also; and Pikalu, still harnessed and held by Guninana, split her ears with barking.