“When he had departed on this errand, I bided patiently in the shack, and the tobacco seemed very near.  Then there was a cry of affright in the night, that became an uproar and assailed the sky.  I seized the ’pain-killer’ and ran forth.  There was much noise, and a wailing among the women, and fear sat heavily on all.  Tummasook and the woman Ipsukuk rolled on the ground in pain, and with them there were divers others, also Moosu.  I thrust aside those that cluttered the way of my feet, and put the mouth of the bottle to Moosu’s lips.  And straightway he became well and ceased his howling.  Whereat there was a great clamour for the bottle from the others so stricken.  But I made harangue, and ere they tasted and were made well I had mulcted Tummasook of his copper kettle and kerosene can, and the woman Ipsukuk of her sugar and molasses, and the other sick ones of goodly measures of flour.  The shaman glowered wickedly at the people around my knees, though he poorly concealed the wonder that lay beneath.  But I held my head high, and Moosu groaned beneath the loot as he followed my heels to the shack.

“There I set to work.  In Tummasook’s copper kettle I mixed three quarts of wheat flour with five of molasses, and to this I added of water twenty quarts.  Then I placed the kettle near the lamp, that it might sour in the warmth and grow strong.  Moosu understood, and said my wisdom passed understanding and was greater than Solomon’s, who he had heard was a wise man of old time.  The kerosene can I set over the lamp, and to its nose I affixed a snout, and into the snout the bone that was like a gooseneck.  I sent Moosu without to pound ice, while I connected the barrel of his gun with the gooseneck, and midway on the barrel I piled the ice he had pounded.  And at the far end of the gun-barrel, beyond the pan of ice, I placed a small iron pot.  When the brew was strong enough (and it was two days ere it could stand on its own legs), I filled the kerosene can with it, and lighted the wicks I had braided.

“Now that all was ready, I spoke to Moosu.  ‘Go forth,’ I said, ’to the chief men of the village, and give them greeting, and bid them come into my igloo and sleep the night away with me and the gods.’

“The brew was singing merrily when they began shoving aside the skin flap and crawling in, and I was heaping cracked ice on the gun-barrel.  Out of the priming hole at the far end, drip, drip, drip into the iron pot fell the liquor—­hooch, you know.  But they’d never seen the like, and giggled nervously when I made harangue about its virtues.  As I talked I noted the jealousy in the shaman’s eye, so when I had done, I placed him side by side with Tummasook and the woman Ipsukuk.  Then I gave them to drink, and their eyes watered and their stomachs warmed, till from being afraid they reached greedily for more; and when I had them well started, I turned to the others.  Tummasook made a brag about how he had once killed a polar bear, and in the vigour of his pantomime nearly slew his mother’s brother.  But nobody heeded.  The woman Ipsukuk fell to weeping for a son lost long years agone in the ice, and the shaman made incantation and prophecy.  So it went, and before morning they were all on the floor, sleeping soundly with the gods.