Bob’s aversion to Manikawan’s attentions was wearing off, and he was taking a new interest in her.  He very often found himself looking at her and admiring her dark, pretty face and tall, supple form.  Sometimes she would glance up quickly and catch him at it, and smile, for it pleased her.  Then he would feel a bit foolish and blush through the tan on his face; for he knew that she read his thoughts.  But neither he nor Manikawan ever voiced the admiration that they felt for each other.

Bob was lounging in the wigwam one day a week or so after the arrival at the camp when he heard some one excitedly shouting,

“Atuk!  Atuk!”

He grabbed his gun and ran outside where he met Sishetakushin rushing in from an adjoining wigwam.  The Indian called to him to leave his gun behind and get a spear and follow.  He could see that something of great moment had occurred and he obeyed.

The Indians from the lodges, all armed with spears, were running towards a knoll just below the camp, and Bob and Sishetakushin and Mookoomahn joined them.  When they reached the top of the knoll Bob halted for a moment in astonishment.  Never before had he beheld anything to compare with what he saw below.  A herd of caribou containing hundreds—­yes thousands—­like a great living sea, was moving to the eastward.

Some of the Indians were already running ahead on their snow-shoes to turn the animals into the deep snowdrifts of a ravine, while the other attacked the herd with their spears from the side.  The caribou changed their course when they saw their enemies, and plunged into the ravine, those behind crowding those in front, which sank into the drifts until they were quite helpless.  From every side the Indians rushed upon the deer and the slaughter began.  Bob was carried away with the excitement of the hunt, and many of the deer fell beneath his spear thrusts.  The killing went on blindly, indiscriminately, without regard to the age or sex or number killed, until finally the main herd extricated itself and ran in wild panic over the river ice and out of reach of the pursuers.

In the brief interval between the discovery of the deer and the escape of the herd over four hundred animals had fallen under the ruthless spears.  When Bob realized the extent of the wicked slaughter he was disgusted with himself for having taken part in it.

“‘Twas wicked t’ kill so many of un when we’re not needin’ un, an’ I hopes th’ Lard’ll forgive me for helpin’,” he said contritely.

[Illustration:  “Saw her standing in the bright moonlight”]

Aside from the inhumanity of the thing, it was a terrible waste of food, for it would only be possible to utilize a comparatively small proportion of the meat of the slaughtered animals.  Perhaps seventy-five of the carcasses were skinned, after which the flesh was stripped from the bones and hung in thin slabs from the poles inside the wigwams to dry.  The tongues were removed from all the slaughtered animals, for they are considered a great delicacy by the Indians; and some of the leg bones were taken for the marrow they contained.  The great bulk of the meat, however, was left for the wolves and foxes, or to rot in the sun when summer came.