“Why did he go away?” Chris asked. “Lowell, I mean.”

“His work is done,” Ross said. “The rest is woman’s work.”

Staring, Alwin Polar said nervously, “Heh, wait a minute. What’s she going to do?”

Mrs. Aragrook, by her next movement, unconsciously answered his question. With a sweep of her arm the ulu laid open a great gash along the shining white skin. Another gash at right angles, and then another. The ulu flashed, the woman grasped the flesh with her left hand and under the blade in her right the thick roll of blubber curled down like gigantic shavings under Paul Bunyan’s knife. Now the purple meat lay exposed. She freed the massive square of fat now and flung it onto an oilcloth that lay on the beach just above the carcass.

“In a half hour she’ll have the whole beluga cut and skinned,” Ross said. “Come on. Let’s go.”

But now the children, as though they had been given a signal, rushed upon the massive white creature. In their hands were small knives. With these they skillfully sliced and hacked at the tail. They crammed the bits of rubbery gristle into their mouths, they were blissful as another child might be with a lollipop.

“Try a piece, Chris?”

“Love to.”

He sliced a sliver of the tough white tailmeat. “It’s called the flute, this tail piece, and the kids would rather eat it than candy.”

But when the Polars and Bridie and Chris tried to chew it, it resisted them like hard rubber. Hastily spitting it out, the three older people began to explore their mouths apprehensively. “You trying to work up business for the Native Service dentist?” Bridie demanded.

“I can’t make a dent in it,” Chris said, “but I’ll chew it awhile, like gum, just for exercise.” She took it out of her mouth, looked at it to mark her progress, and put it back.

“Christine Storm!” Bridie exclaimed, as though reproving a child.

Chris said, cheerfully, “Not bad, really. Tastes a little like celery. With a dip in the salt.”

The Polars glanced up glanced down the bleak little beach path. Oogruk was going about its daily business again. The wind blew chill across the mountains and water to the little cove in which they stood now alone except for the children, the woman intently working over the massive white mounds, and the three who evidently were about to be on their way.

“Where you folks going now?” Alwin Polar inquired, sociably.

Oh, no, Chris thought.

With candor and sweetness Ross said, “I am taking these two friends to my grandmother’s house. I am sorry that I can’t ask you to come with us.”

Simple enough, and direct, and honest, Chris decided. The guileless Polars, too, seemed to find this reasonable enough “Well, sure, you wouldn’t want strangers barging in,” Alwin Polar agreed, cheerfully. “We’ll just ramble around. I’d appreciate it if you’d just advise us what there is to see, and so on. Like that dancing last night, and these whales this morning, that’s something you don’t see back in the States.”