Though not usually quarrelsome or vicious, they do fight with each other, but only at appointed times, when all old grudges and differences of opinion are cleared up at once. On the appointed day, all the disagreeing parties of the camp pair off, and standing at arm's length from each other, strike turn about, and in this deliberate, systematic way take satisfaction out of each other, until one of the combatants cries, "Ta-bah" (enough).
The food of the Eskimo, as his name implies, is chiefly raw flesh; so the preparation of his meals is an extremely simple operation. The culinary department of civilization has no place in his life. Reindeer, seals, white whales and walruses are to the Eskimo the staple articles of food; but polar bears, Arctic hares and other animals, besides most of the Arctic birds, are considered equally good.
It is rather a novel, if not a repulsive sight, to witness an Eskimo feast. The occasion of the feast is the capture of a seal, or perhaps a reindeer, which, according to custom during the winter season, becomes common property, so that all are invited to the lodge of the fortunate hunter to share in the festivities.
The animal's carcase is trailed into the middle of the lodge, and when all the guests are assembled, they seat themselves on the floor about it. The carcase is then skinned by the host, and the pelt laid down to form a dish or receptacle for the blood.
All things being ready, the party, armed with knives, are invited to help themselves, and this they do with great dexterity, and continue to do—not until they have had sufficient, but until the supply is exhausted and absolutely nothing remains but the skin and skeleton. The
