THE NIGHT’S LODGING. 
115 
lay frozen on the floor of the netek, was cut into steaks; 
and the kolopsuts began to smoke with a burden of 
ten or fifteen pounds apiece. Metek, with a little 
amateur aid from some of the sleepers, emptied these 
without my assistance. I had the most cordial invita¬ 
tion to precede them; but I had seen enough of the 
culinary regime to render it impossible. I broke my 
fast on a handful of frozen liver-nuts that Bill brought 
me, and, bursting out into a profuse perspiration, I 
stripped like the rest, threw my well-tired carcass 
across Mrs. Eider-duck’s extremities, put her left-hand 
baby under my armpit, pillowed my head on Myouk’s 
somewhat warm stomach, and thus, an honored guest 
and in the place of honor, fell asleep. 
Next morning, the sun nearly at noonday height, I 
awoke: Mrs. Eider-duck had my breakfast very tempt¬ 
ingly ready. It was forked on the end of a curved 
piece of bone,—a lump of boiled blubber and a choice 
cut of meat. The preliminary cookery I had not seen: 
I am an old traveller, and do not care to intrude into 
the mysteries of the kitchen. My appetite was in its 
usual blessed redundance, and I was about to grasp the 
smiling proffer, when I saw the matron, who was ma¬ 
nipulating as chief intendant of the other kotluk, per¬ 
forming an operation that arrested me. She had in 
her hand a counterpart of the curved bone that sup¬ 
ported my dSjeuner ,—indeed, it is the universal im¬ 
plement of an Esquimaux cuisine; and, as I turned 
my head, I saw her quietly withdrawing it from be¬ 
neath her dress, and then plunging it into the soup-pot 
