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65
morsel of their last dog, and are starving upon fragments of the
skins about their hut. Yet out upon the white surface of the
play are black spots which he knows are seals.
He attempts to find a stone that he can utilize for a
harpoon-head, but the search is useless. Everything is covered
with the pitiless shroud of snow.
He gives up hope and is crouched in his freezing hut
waitin g for the end which will come very quickly now to his his
wife and babies, when suddenly it flashes through his brain that
the previous summer while bringing a big seal upon his back across
the little isthmus behind his hut, he had sat down to rest up on the
"brown woman" and there in the bright sunshine had idly tried to
break off a fragment of her with a stone lying near. He had not
succeeded. yet he remembers vividly how when his hand slipped and
struck against the place where he had been pounding, a sharp
edge had cut a deep clean gash in his flesh.
Why should this not do for his harpoon-head? A word to
his faithful wife and slave, and covering the children as best they
can with the remaining furs, the y climb the luttle valley and
with hands and feet remove the shrowding snow from the "brown
woman". Then with a rough stone he pounds and digs at a rough
point of her knee.
When he tires his wife relieves him . Soon
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"ocrText": "65\nmorsel of their last dog, and are starving upon fragments of the\nskins about their hut. Yet out upon the white surface of the\nplay are black spots which he knows are seals.\nHe attempts to find a stone that he can utilize for a\nharpoon-head, but the search is useless. Everything is covered\nwith the pitiless shroud of snow.\nHe gives up hope and is crouched in his freezing hut\nwaitin g for the end which will come very quickly now to his his\nwife and babies, when suddenly it flashes through his brain that\nthe previous summer while bringing a big seal upon his back across\nthe little isthmus behind his hut, he had sat down to rest up on the\n\"brown woman\" and there in the bright sunshine had idly tried to\nbreak off a fragment of her with a stone lying near. He had not\nsucceeded. yet he remembers vividly how when his hand slipped and\nstruck against the place where he had been pounding, a sharp\nedge had cut a deep clean gash in his flesh.\nWhy should this not do for his harpoon-head? A word to\nhis faithful wife and slave, and covering the children as best they\ncan with the remaining furs, the y climb the luttle valley and\nwith hands and feet remove the shrowding snow from the \"brown\nwoman\". Then with a rough stone he pounds and digs at a rough\npoint of her knee.\nWhen he tires his wife relieves him . Soon"
}