Bobby kept the house, too, so well supplied with rabbits and ptarmigans, through his incessant hunting, that presently there were enough hanging frozen in the porch to last till the coming of warm weather.
One evening near the end of February Bobby announced, as he entered the cabin after giving the dogs their daily feed: "There's only enough seal meat left to last the dogs a week.

I'll have to go to the _sena_ and kill some more." "You do not know how to do that kind of hunting," objected Abel.

"It is not like hunting seals from a boat, or like spearing them through their breathing holes in the ice.

Feed the dogs only once every two days, and perhaps before the meat is gone my foot will be strong enough for me to go to the _sena_." "I was there with you last year," Bobby insisted.

"Jimmy will go with me.