Kesshoo knew very well where to look for the reindeer. He led the way
up a steep gorge where the first green moss appeared in the spring.
They all four walked quietly along for several miles.
When they got nearly to the head of the gorge, Kesshoo stopped. He said
to the boys, "You must not make any noise yourselves, and you must not
let the dogs bark. If you do there will be no reindeer today."
The boys kept very still, indeed. The dogs were good hunting dogs. They
knew better than to bark.
They walked on a little farther. Then Kesshoo came very near the others
and spoke in a low voice. He said, "We are coming to a spot where there
are likely to be reindeer. The wind is from the south. If we keep on in
this direction, the reindeer will smell us. We must go round in such a
way that the wind will carry the scent from them to us, not from us to
them."
They turned to the right and went round to the north. They had gone
only a short distance in this direction, when they found fresh reindeer
tracks in the snow. The dogs began to sniff and strain at their
harnesses.
"They smell the game," whispered Kesshoo. "Hold on tight! Don't let
them run."
Menie and Koko held the dogs back as hard as they could. Kesshoo and
Koko's father crept forward with their bows in their hands. The fog was
so thick they could not see very far before them.
They had gone only a short distance, when out of the fog loomed two
great gray shadows. Instantly the two men dropped on their knees and
took careful aim.
The reindeer did not see them. They did not know that anything was near
until they felt the sting of the hunters' arrows. One reindeer dropped
to the earth. The other was not killed. He flung his head in the air
and galloped away, and they could hear the thud, thud, of his hoofs
long after he had disappeared in the fog.
The moment the dogs heard the singing sound of the arrows, they bounded
forward. Koko and Menie were not strong enough to hold them back, and
they could not run fast enough to keep up with them. So they just
bumped along behind the dogs! Some of the time they slid through the
snow.
The snow was rough and hard, and it hurt a good deal to be dragged
through it as if they were sledges, but Eskimo boys are used to bumps,
and they knew if they cried they might scare the game, so they never
even whimpered.
It was lucky for them that they had not far to go. When they came
bumping along, Kesshoo and Koko's father laughed at them.
"Don't be in such a hurry," they called. "There's plenty of time!"
They unbound the traces from Menie and Koko and hitched the dogs to the
body of the reindeer. Then they all started back to the village with
Koko's father driving the dogs.
Soon the fog lifted and the sky grew clear.
Monnie was playing with her doll in the igloo, when she heard Tooky
bark. She knew it was Tooky at once. She and Koolee both plunged into
the tunnel like mice down a mouse hole. Nip and Tup were ahead of them.
Outside they found Koko's mother and the baby. Koolee called to her,
and she called to the wives of the Angakok, who were scraping a bear's
skin in the snow.
The Angakok's wives, and Koko's mother and her baby, and Koolee, and
Monnie, and Nip and Tup all ran to meet the hunters, and you never saw
two prouder boys than Koko and Menie when they showed the reindeer to
their mothers.
The mothers were proud of their young hunters, too. Koolee said, "Soon
we shall have another man in our family."
When they were quite near the village again, they met the Angakok. He
had been trying to catch up with them and he was out of breath from
running. He looked at them sternly.
"Why didn't you call me?" he panted.
His wives looked frightened and didn't say a word. Nobody else said
anything. The Angakok glared at them all for a moment. Then he poked
the reindeer with his fingers to see if it was fat and said to the men,
"Which portion am I to have?"
"Would you like the liver?" asked Kesshoo. He remembered about the
bear's liver, you see.
But the Angakok looked offended. "Who will have the stomach?" he said.
"You know very well that the stomach is the best part of a reindeer."
"Take the stomach, by all means, then," said Kesshoo, politely.
Koolee and Monnie looked very much disappointed. They wanted the
stomach dreadfully.
But the Angakok answered, "Since you urge me, I will take the stomach.
I had a dream last night, and in the dream I was told by my Tornak that
today I should feed upon a reindeer's stomach, given me by one of my
grateful children. When you think how I suffered to bring food to you,
I am sure you will wish to provide me with whatever it seems best that
I should have."
He stood by while Kesshoo and Koko's father skinned the reindeer and
cut it in pieces. Then he took the stomach and disappeared into his
igloo--with his face all wreathed in smiles.