For several days after the walrus hunt described in the last chapter, very bad weather prevailed in Eskimo Land. The mighty north winds, with an edge that cut like a knife, smote the half buried igloos with a demon's strength. The snow blew in white clouds until one could see scarcely a rod in any direction, and the cold was intense. So the three mighty hunters contented themselves by staying in their warm igloos and listening to the tales of the old men, some of them stories of famous bear hunts. They were not quite sure whether these old wrinkled hunters had really seen all the white bears they said they had, or whether they simply drew upon their imaginations; but their stories were pleasant to listen to when the winds howled outside and swept across the frozen plains and the icefloe. But like all bad things stormy
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Chapter VII
Whitie
