THE PUFFINS AND THE HUNTER 
9 
This day Baby Loon walked among them 
they had just washed their faces in a fresh 
cloud bank, and my! how finely they did 
nod their heads! 
“Good morning, good morning, every¬ 
body!” exclaimed Baby in bird talk, as she 
trudged along. “How are you all today?” 
She couldn’t call them all by name, for no 
white man had seen them all to give them 
names, and the Eskimo people use many 
names for their own children. Baby didn’t 
mind that. She just trotted along happily, 
while hundreds of Puffins whirled by just 
over her head, practicing a song for their 
next grand concert. 
While Baby Loon was among the flowers 
something strange happened on Happy 
Island that very day. The Puffin chorus 
were flying through the air having a fine 
time while they practiced the new chorus. 
If anyone on the hill above had been 
watching very, very closely they would have 
noticed that every now and then, as the 
Puffins skimmed along close to the ground, 
