the waves, which turn him over
and roll him about, as he stubbornly rights himself after each
capsizing and hurls himself through the next curving green hillside of
water, he comes upon a helpless comrade.

Ordinarily, the second man, Patuak, could bob up again and go on, like
stalwart Papik.

But Patuak's jacket worked loose at the rim of the body-hole of the
kayak. The water rushed in. Now he is water-logged. He will lose his
boat, his seals, his life, unless Papik can save him.

Is Papik tempted to think only of himself and leave Patuak to his
fate? If he is, it does not appear in what he does. He runs his kayak
alongside that of his friend: he puts his paddle across both boats,
and if he cannot bring in both kayaks, with such help as Patuak is
able to give, he may even carry Patuak lying across the prow of his
own boat.

It is easier to drown a seal than to drown an Eskimo.

The women stand on the rocks, shielding their eyes with their hands as
they gaze eagerly seaward--just as the women of Nantucket stood on the
roofs of the houses in olden times watching and waiting for the
whaling-fleet.

At the first sign of the approaching hunters a cry goes up: "They are
coming!"

Then they begin to count.

They thank their own idea of Heaven when they find that--seals or no
seals--their men are coming back in safety.

If a man is towing seals, they shout his name with joy--and after it
put the word "kaligpok," which means "towing."

The women haul in the boats, rub noses with their husbands to show
their affection, and proceed to prepare the feast of raw blubber.

After that feast the men tell the story of the day's work--without
boasting, but with touches of humor that send the listeners off into
ringing peals of laughter.

The story-telling is a part of the seal-hunt. The phrases are
straight-flung as a seal-lance.

"When the time came for using the harpoon, I looked to it, I took it,
I seized it, I gripped it, I had it fast in my hand, I balanced
it"--and so on. The audience, mouths agape, misses no word. It is the
nearest thing the Eskimos have to motion pictures--and what a motion
picture the whole of the seal-hunt is! No wonder the hunter lolls back
like a lord, and lets himself be waited on, a conquering hero.

The old men feel their youth renewed as they sit and listen to these
wonder-tales. In their turn, they are moved to tell how they met the
walrus in fair fight and overcame him. Perhaps the dr