The men alternated this heavy work with hunting, for it was now August and the caribou skins at their short-haired best, and Taptuna knew he must obtain enough to make all their winter clothes. Scraping the skins and sewing them kept Guninana busy; and Noashak amused herself gathering berries, making wreaths of flowers, and trying to work. Once she played with a party of other children, just arrived, for three days and three nights without stopping to sleep—that is for as long as three of our days and nights. The sun was shining, the world ringing with their merry voices, more and more new friends kept coming to stir up excitement, and they were all so supremely happy none of them thought of ending the game. Would you ever want to stop play and rest if the sun did not set you a good example by going to bed first? I doubt it. Noashak was very tired and horribly cross at the end of the party; she wriggled into the tent, dropped on the bed, and slept till her mother thought she was never going to wake up.
While Noashak was sleeping Kak enjoyed a great treat. His beloved Omialik took him on a little hunting trip, only the two of them together. It was the proudest event of the boy’s life. So far he had not realized either of his ambitions: neither grizzly bear nor Indian had crossed his path. However, on the second day of the outing, while Omialik sat with his glasses carefully surveying the surrounding country for a glimpse of game, Kak saw him stiffen to attention and rivet his gaze on one spot.
“What do you see over there?” the white man asked presently, handing the glasses to his young companion.
Kak focused them with eager fingers, conscious of the honor in being thus consulted. “Men,” he answered, and his voice shook more than his hands, for he knew what he saw.
“Are they Eskimos?”
“No, none of them—none of them!” Kak was trembling all over with excitement so that he could hardly hold the glasses.
Omialik took another look. “Might be my friend, Selby,” he muttered, “but I don’t believe it is,” adding aloud to Kak: “Well, since we don’t know what they are, shall we go and meet them and find out?”
The Eskimo made a slight gurgling noise in his throat which he meant for assent. His inherited instinct would have been to lie low, allowing these intruders to pass unchallenged; but curiosity worked up to foolhardy courage by his contact with the white man triumphed over discretion. He wanted to meet them, his soul craved to meet them, to observe them closely. The dread name of the enemy had not been mentioned, but Kak knew. He wondered if he ought to warn the Kabluna and thought: “Perhaps if I do Omialik won’t go any nearer.” Twice the lad’s mouth opened to speak, and twice he shut it stubbornly. This was the chance of a lifetime. Danger or no danger he would follow on—at the worst Omialik had his magic gun.
To Kak’s surprise his companion did not seem one whit afraid of the three strangers. His approach showed no stealth. When they came to an open place on top of the ridge he stood up, waved his arms, called, and made signs for the other party to wait. Kak watched, hanging back a little, and shaking in those stout sealskin shoes which Guninana had made for him. He felt mightily relieved when the white man took his glasses for another look at closer quarters.
“Indians,” Omialik pronounced briefly.