None the less, his success continued, and the less skilful hunters were often kept busy hauling in his meat.  And in the division of it he was just.  As his father had done before him, he saw to it that the least old woman and the last old man received a fair portion, keeping no more for himself than his needs required.  And because of this, and of his merit as a hunter, he was looked upon with respect, and even awe; and there was talk of making him chief after old Klosh-Kwan.  Because of the things he had done, they looked for him to appear again in the council, but he never came, and they were ashamed to ask.

“I am minded to build me an igloo,” he said one day to Klosh-Kwan and a number of the hunters.  “It shall be a large igloo, wherein Ikeega and I can dwell in comfort.”

“Ay,” they nodded gravely.

“But I have no time.  By business is hunting, and it takes all my time.  So it is but just that the men and women of the village who eat my meat should build me my igloo.”

And the igloo was built accordingly, on a generous scale which exceeded even the dwelling of Klosh-Kwan.  Keesh and his mother moved into it, and it was the first prosperity she had enjoyed since the death of Bok.  Nor was material prosperity alone hers, for, because of her wonderful son and the position he had given her, she came to be looked upon as the first woman in all the village; and the women were given to visiting her, to asking her advice, and to quoting her wisdom when arguments arose among themselves or with the men.

But it was the mystery of Keesh’s marvelous hunting that took chief place in all their minds.  And one day Ugh-Gluk taxed him with witchcraft to his face.

“It is charged,” Ugh-Gluk said ominously, “that thou dealest with evil spirits, wherefore thy hunting is rewarded.”

“Is not the meat good?” Keesh made answer.  “Has one in the village yet to fall sick from the eating of it!  How dost thou know that witchcraft be concerned?  Or dost thou guess, in the dark, merely because of the envy that consumes thee?”

And Ugh-Gluk withdrew discomfited, the women laughing at him as he walked away.  But in the council one night, after long deliberation, it was determined to put spies on his track when he went forth to hunt, so that his methods might be learned.  So, on his next trip, Bim and Bawn, two young men, and of hunters the craftiest, followed after him, taking care not to be seen.  After five days they returned, their eyes bulging and their tongues a-tremble to tell what they had seen.  The council was hastily called in Klosh-Kwan’s dwelling, and Bim took up the tale.

“Brothers!  As commanded, we journeyed on the trail of Keesh, and cunningly we journeyed, so that he might not know.  And midway of the first day he picked up with a great he-bear.  It was a very great bear.”

“None greater,” Bawn corroborated, and went on himself.  “Yet was the bear not inclined to fight, for he turned away and made off slowly over the ice.  This we saw from the rocks of the shore, and the bear came toward us, and after him came Keesh, very much unafraid.  And he shouted harsh words after the bear, and waved his arms about, and made much noise.  Then did the bear grow angry, and rise up on his hind legs, and growl.  But Keesh walked right up to the bear.”