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66
however the bitter cold of the fierce wind numbs them. They are
likely to freeze before the tedious work is done.
But though the flame of life burns wavering in the hunter
his brain spurred by the chance of life is still active. From his
hut he brings a shoulderblade of his last dog , and with this rude
implement carves snow blocks and builds a low hut over the "brown
woman's " lap, just large enough for two kneeling persons. Shelter-
ed now from the cold he and his wife strive incessantly at the
iron. At last a tiny scale flies off. The man seizes it, draws
the edge across his bare finger, and laughs with joy as it cuts to
the bone. But one flake is not enough. So through the long
hours the two toil till another and another has been loosened.
Then while the woman sleeps exhausted, the man hastily
yet with all care, fashions his harpoon-head, setting the bits of
iron along the point of a piece of bone, fits the bone to the
shaft, and with feverish energy starts out upon the ice towards one
of those tantalizing black spots.
When still some distance away he lies down upon the snow
and begins crawling towards the seal in the peculiar fashion of his
race.
Now however weakness begins to tell upon him, and before
he gets within striking distance, he is obliged to stop for breath.
The seal takes fright and starts fr his hole in the ice. It is a
moment of agony for the starving hunter. The distance of the seal
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"ocrText": "66\nhowever the bitter cold of the fierce wind numbs them. They are\nlikely to freeze before the tedious work is done.\nBut though the flame of life burns wavering in the hunter\nhis brain spurred by the chance of life is still active. From his\nhut he brings a shoulderblade of his last dog , and with this rude\nimplement carves snow blocks and builds a low hut over the \"brown\nwoman's \" lap, just large enough for two kneeling persons. Shelter-\ned now from the cold he and his wife strive incessantly at the\niron. At last a tiny scale flies off. The man seizes it, draws\nthe edge across his bare finger, and laughs with joy as it cuts to\nthe bone. But one flake is not enough. So through the long\nhours the two toil till another and another has been loosened.\nThen while the woman sleeps exhausted, the man hastily\nyet with all care, fashions his harpoon-head, setting the bits of\niron along the point of a piece of bone, fits the bone to the\nshaft, and with feverish energy starts out upon the ice towards one\nof those tantalizing black spots.\nWhen still some distance away he lies down upon the snow\nand begins crawling towards the seal in the peculiar fashion of his\nrace.\nNow however weakness begins to tell upon him, and before\nhe gets within striking distance, he is obliged to stop for breath.\nThe seal takes fright and starts fr his hole in the ice. It is a\nmoment of agony for the starving hunter. The distance of the seal"
}