e up his mind to give them only one glimpse--a sort of moral
appetiser--and reserve the full display of his lion until the following
day. Just before arriving at the village, therefore, he called a halt,
and explained to the hunters that the Kablunet had been very much
wearied by his recent journey, that he would not permit him to be
disturbed that night; but as he was to dwell with Angut, and was at that
time in his, (Okiok's), hut, they would have an opportunity of seeing
him during his brief passage from the one hut to the other. They were,
however, to be very careful not to crowd upon him or question him, and
not to speak at all--in short, only to look!

This having been settled and agreed to, Okiok pushed on alone in
advance, to prevent Rooney from showing himself too soon.

Arriving at his town residence, the Eskimo found his guest asleep, as
usual, for the poor seaman found that alternate food and repose were the
best means for the recovery of lost vigour.

Nuna was quietly cooking the seaman's next meal, and Nunaga was mending
one of his garments, when Okiok entered. Both held up a warning finger
when he appeared.

"Where is Tumbler?" he asked softly, looking round.

"Gone to the hut of Pussimek to play with Pussi," replied the wife; "we
could not keep him quiet, so we--"

She stopped and looked solemn, for Rooney moved. The talking had roused
him. Sitting up, he looked gravely first at Nunaga, then at her mother,
then at her father, after which he smiled mildly and yawned.

"So you've got back, Okiok?"

"Yes, Ridroonee. And all the hunters are coming, with plenty to eat--
great plenty!"

The women's eyes seemed to sparkle at these words, but they said
nothing.

"That's a good job, old boy," said the seaman, rising. "I think I'll go
out and meet them. It will be dark in a short time."

Here Okiok interposed with an earnest petition that he would not go out
to the people that night, explaining that if he were to sit with them
during supper none except the gluttons would be able to eat. The rest
would only wonder and stare.

Of course our seaman was amenable to reason.

"But," he said, with a humorous glance, "would it not be good for them--
especially for the gluttons--to be prevented from eating too much?"

It was evident from the blank look of his visage that Okiok did not
understand his guest. The idea of an Eskimo eating too much had never
before entered his imagination.

"How can