"He will be back ere long," they said cheeringly.

"Let him go; it will teach him a lesson," the hunters said. "And he will
come back shortly, and he will be meek and soft of speech in the days to
follow."

But a day passed, and a second, and on the third a wild gale blew, and
there was no Keesh. Ikeega tore her hair and put soot of the seal-oil on
her face in token of her grief; and the women assailed the men with
bitter words in that they had mistreated the boy and sent him to his
death; and the men made no answer, preparing to go in search of the body
when the storm abated.

Early next morning, however, Keesh strode into the village. But he came
not shamefacedly. Across his shoulders he bore a burden of fresh-killed
meat. And there was importance in his step and arrogance in his speech.

"Go, ye men, with the dogs and sledges, and take my trail for the better
part of a day's travel," he said. "There is much meat on the ice--a
she-bear and two half-grown cubs."

Ikeega was overcome with joy, but he received her demonstrations in
manlike fashion, saying: "Come, Ikeega, let us eat. And after that I
shall sleep, for I am weary."

And he passed into their _igloo_ and ate profoundly, and after that
slept for twenty running hours.

There was much doubt at first, much doubt and discussion. The killing of
a polar bear is very dangerous, but thrice dangerous is it, and three