STORIES DES

the packers were to meet them. They were not due to arrive for several
hours, so Sénuximdxots cooked the goat and had a plentiful meal ready
for his followers. They asked whether he had had any luck, and he
answered casually that his son had killed one, but when they expressed
regret at his lack of fortune, Sduuximdxots pointed to the pile of dead
goats, visible in the distance, and said:

“See what my son killed.”

Never before had there been such a slaughter of goats at one time, and
it was obvious that no time could be lost if the meat was to be smoked
before winter. Fortunately, there was a large cave in the vicinity where
they established their headquarters. The packers were divided into two
parties; some brought in the carcasses, while others kept a fire smoul-
dering, tended the drying meat, and boiled out the grease. It was a slow
process and there was a heavy snowfall before it was finished. The snow
drifted into the narrow valley to such a depth that it was impossible to
think of leaving. The beleaguered hunters were well provided with food;
melted snow gave them water, and the cave was sufficient shelter, so their
confinement was more irksome than dangerous. Nor did it prove profit-
less. The smell of food attracted two martens which were so unafraid
that they were killed with sticks. All the hunters began to make traps
which soon provided them with enough skins to make several of the
much-prized blankets.

So the winter dragged away. The wife of one of the packers had a
reputation for faithlessness and her husband’s companions used to tease
him by saying that his wife would have remarried before he got home.
This wore on his nerves until he determined to try to reach the village
in spite of the snow. He constructed a pair of snow-shoes and set out,
carrying with him enough marten-skins for four blankets, packed in a
sack made from the stomach of one of the goats. The journey was less
difficult than he had feared; he camped for one night, and reached his own
village soon after dusk of the next day. Looking through the doorway,
he saw his father throwing food into the fire and realized that someone
must have died. He called out anxiously, but his parent, who had long
since abandoned hope for his son’s safety, could not believe that his voice
was real, and was not convinced until he actually stood before him. The
long-absent one asked for whom the food was being thrown on the fire,
and his father replied:

“For you. We thought you must be dead and have burnt almost all
your personal possessions.”

“That does not matter,” replied the son. ‘““We have plenty of meat,

>

grease, and furs.’