And in their houses, in celebration of the fall of night, the natives continued their grotesque dances.  Beating membrane drums, and singing jerky chants, they danced frenziedly, forcing a false hilarity.  They felt the overwhelming approach of the dread spectre of famine.  In their dances some sobbed, others passed into uncontrollable hysteria.

Ootah alone did not indulge in the fierce ceremonies.  His own igloo built, day after day, night after night, he sat alone.  His heart ached with the unrequited and eternal desire of all the loveless and lonely things of the world.  Outside, the moon increased in fulness and soared in a low circle about the sky.  The dogs crouched low on the ground, howling dismally.

During the first days of the long night the natives held a series of dog fights inside the snow and stone houses.  Ordinarily Ootah would have attended these, for a dog fight is of keenest interest to a tribesman, and the Eskimos’ most exciting form of sport.

To a hunter with healthy blood in his veins the dog encounter affords the same thrills as other men, in more southern lands, find in bull fights, horse racing, card playing and other games of chance.  Two lovers, both desirous of a maiden, may hold a fight between their king dogs, each hoping that success may determine the girl’s favor.  Pieces of blubber, animal skins, ivory carvings and less valuable objects are often bet by the contestants and the onlookers.

By all logical assumptions, one might naturally suppose that the Eskimos—­whose night is many months long—­through many dark and rigorous ages, would have developed into a taciturn and moody people, just as the denizens of sunny climes are joyful, effervescent and pleasure loving.  However, this is not so.  Troublous as is their existence, they preserve until old age that playful joy of life, that carefree ignoring of danger, which we find in our children—­which, alas, we lose too soon.  Each day brings to them its novel delights; in their monotonous foods they find a constant variety of pleasure; in their simple games of muscle-tapping, throwing of carved ivories, and fighting of dogs they experience the exultant and exuberant fun of our schoolboys.  Constant experience with jeopardous tasks has eliminated the human fear of danger, and even death, in its most tragic shapes, by long association has lost its terrors.  When the long night falls, and an ominous depression makes heavy the heart of the lover or fills with anxiety the heart of the father, they turn, with a delightful spontaneity, to play.

Now great interest was aroused by the news that Papik was to fight his king dog with the magnificent brute owned by Attalaq.  Both Papik and Attalaq were paying evident attentions to Ahningnetty, the chubby and ever smiling maiden, who, while she showed a certain leaning toward Papik, had misgivings as to his eligibility as a husband because of his long fingers.