Now Kak did not like this at all. His male nature wanted to be admired and praised, even if he had accomplished less than he had boasted. Her unkindness made him feel like backing up his good opinion of himself.
“Well, anyway, three’s a lot. It’s more than dad expected me to bring.”
“Four!” bawled his tormentor.
And “Four! Four!” sang the neighbor girls in chorus, going over holus-bolus to his natural enemy.
“You promised to bring four and you can’t do it. You’re afraid! You’re afraid to go back again now!” adding an Eskimo taunt equivalent to “Cowardy, cowardy custard!”
They flouted him meanly, sticking out their tongues, stretching their mouths with fingers in their cheeks, making faces at him over the housetop.
“Bears!” suddenly yelled Noashak.
That was too much. It hit home.
“I am not afraid!” Kak cried, outraged. “Who says I can’t do it?”
He shot a half fearful glance at the sky. Daylight was slowly fading but it would last for a short while, and his dogs looked jolly enough; they had enjoyed more rest than running during their day’s work. If he made one grand dash back to the carcass, and only stayed to load ever so little meat, it would count the same.