I called "Sam's" attention to it,
and he immediately dropped behind a rock, out of the wind, until it was
repeated several times, when saying, "Inuit ky-ete" (Somebody says
come), he started off down the steep mountain side in the direction
of the voice, and the boys and I followed him. We walked nearly
three-quarters of an hour before we finally saw the object of our
search, and then he appeared perched on a rock against the clear blue
sky, but still too far off to be recognized even by my hawk-eyed
guides. At last we were near enough to see that it was "Alex Taylor,"
one of the Inuits from our camp, who had left with the others for the
hunting-grounds. He had with him his wife and two children, one a babe
in the hood, and two bags packed with tupic and poles. He had a heavy
back-load of skins, and his wife another big bundle. They seemed both
surprised and pleased to see me. "Alex" told me that he had seen no
deer that day, but had previously shot nine, and that there were
"ama-suet" (plenty) farther on. He regaled us with some raw meat, and
honored me with a nice raw deer tongue, which I ate with great relish
after he had skinned it and eaten the skin.
After luncheon and a pipe, we gathered up the bundles and trudged along
until nearly sundown, when we arrived at a tupic under a cliff and
between two large lakes.
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