oed
just because they won't believe. Come, I'll try again."

Putting on a look of intense earnestness, which was meant to carry
irresistible conviction, he continued--

"We have kayaks--oomiaks--in my country, which are big enough to carry
three or four times as many people as you have in this village."

Another roar of laughter greeted this statement.

"Isn't he a good liar?" whispered Arbalik's mother.

"And so grave about it too," replied Kunelik.

Red Rooney stopped.

The mother of Ippegoo, fearing he had divined her thoughts, was
overwhelmed, and tried to hide her blushing face behind Issek.

"They don't believe me," said the seaman in a low voice to Okiok.

"Of course they don't. You might as well tell us that the world is
round, when we _see_ that it is flat!"

Rooney sighed. He felt depressed. The impossibility of his ever
getting these people to understand or believe many things was forced
upon him. The undisguised assurance that they looked upon him as the
best liar they had ever met with was unsatisfactory.

"Besides all this, my friends," he cried, with a feeling and air of
reckless gaiety, "we have grand feasts, just as you have, and games too,
and dances, and songs--"

"Songs!" shouted Simek, with an excited look; "have you songs? can you
sing?"

"Well, after a fashion I can," returned Rooney, with a modest look,
"though I don't pretend to be much of a dab at it. Are you fond o'
singin'?"

"Fond!" echoed Simek, with a gaze of enthusiasm, "I love it! I love it
_nearly_ as much as I love Pussimek; better, far, than I love blubber!
Ho! sing to us, Ridroonee."

"With all my heart," said Rooney, starting off with all his lung-power,
which was by no means slight.

"Rule Britannia," rendered in good time, with tremendous energy, and all
the additional flourishes possible, nearly drove the audience wild with
delight. They had never heard anything like it before.

"That beats _you_, Okiok," said Simek.

"That is true," replied Okiok humbly.

"What! does _he_ sing?" asked Rooney.

"Yes; he is our maker of songs, and sings a little."

"Then he must sing to me," cried the sailor. "In my land the man who
sings last has the right to say who shall sing next. I demand a song
from Okiok."

As the company approved highly of the demand, and Okiok was quite
willing, there was neither difficulty nor delay. The good-natured man
began at once, with an air of humorous modesty, if we may say