Red Rooney | Page 9

third time within the last four-and-twenty hours. It was an appropriate
prelude to his sinking into that mysterious region of oblivion in which
the mind of worn-out man finds rest, and out of which it can be so
familiarly yet mysteriously summoned--sometimes by his own
pre-determination, but more frequently by a fellow-mortal.
He had not lain long thus when the tunnel was suddenly darkened by an
advancing body, which proved to be the mistress of the mansion.
Nuna, on thrusting her head into the interior, looked inquiringly up
before venturing to rise. After a good stare at the slumbering Kablunet,
she went cautiously towards the window and removed the obstruction.
A flood of light was let in, which illumined, but did not awaken, the
sleeper.
Cautiously and on tip-toe the considerate little woman went about her
household duties, but with her eyes fixed, as if in fascination, on her
interesting guest.
It is at all times an awkward as well as a dangerous mode of proceeding,
to walk in one direction and look in another. In crossing the hut, Nuna
fell over a walrus skull, upset the lamp, and sent several other articles
of furniture against the opposite wall with a startling crash. The poor
creature did not rise. She was too much overwhelmed with shame. She
merely turned her head as she lay, and cast a horrified gaze at the
sleeper.

To her great joy she saw that Red Rooney had not been disturbed. He
slept through it all with the placidity of an infant. Much relieved, the
little woman got up, and moved about more freely. She replenished the
lamp with oil, and kindled it. Then she proceeded to roast and fry and
grill bear ribs, seal chops, and walrus steaks with a dexterity that was
quite marvellous, considering the rude culinary implements with which
she had to deal. In a short time breakfast was prepared, and Nuna went
out to announce the fact. Slowly and with the utmost caution each
member of the family crept in, and, before rising, cast the same
admiring, inquiring, partially awe-stricken gaze at the unconscious
Kablunet. Okiok, Nunaga, Norrak, Ermigit, and Tumbler all filed in,
and sat down in solemn silence.
Okiok took Tumbler on his knee, so as to be ready to throttle him on
the shortest notice if he should venture to cry, or even crow.
But as the best of human arrangements often fail through unforeseen
circumstances, so the quietude was broken a second time that morning
unexpectedly. One of the hungry dogs outside, rendered desperate by
the delicious fumes that issued from the hut, took heart, dashed in,
caught up a mass of blubber, and attempted to make off. A walrus rib,
however, from Norrak's unerring hand, caught him on the haunch as he
entered the tunnel, and caused him to utter such a piercing howl that
Red Rooney not only awoke, but sat bolt upright, and gazed at the
horrified Eskimos inquiringly.
Evidently the seaman was touched with a sense of the ludicrous, for he
merely smiled and lay down again. But he did not try to sleep. Having
been by that time thoroughly refreshed, he began to sniff the scent of
savoury food as the war-horse is said to scent the battle from afar-- that
is, with an intense longing to "go at it." Okiok, guessing the state of his
feelings, brought him a walrus rib.
Red Rooney accepted it, and began to eat at once without the use of
knife or fork.
"Thankee, friend. It's the same I'll do for yourself if you ever come to
starvation point when I've got a crust to spare."

Charmed beyond measure at hearing their native tongue from the
mouth of a foreigner, the stare of the whole party became more intense,
and for a few moments they actually ceased to chew--a sure sign that
they were, so to speak, transfixed with interest.
"My man," said Rooney, after a few minutes' intense application to the
rib, "what is your name?"
"Okiok," replied the Eskimo.
"Okiok," muttered the seaman to himself in English; "why, that's the
Eskimo word for winter." Then, after a few minutes' further attention to
the rib, "Why did they name you after the cold season o' the year?"
"I know not," said Okiok. "When my father named me I was very small,
and could not ask his reason. He never told any one. Before I was old
enough to ask, a bear killed him. My mother thought it was because the
winter when I was born was very cold and long."
Again the hungry man applied himself to the rib, and nothing more was
said till it was finished. Feeling still somewhat fatigued, Rooney settled
himself among his furs in a more upright position, and gave his
attention