Twenty feet from the foot of the cairn I spread my M.F.H. coat on the snow. Its vivid scarlet with the Derby brown collar and turn-back cuffs made a vivid spot amid the surrounding whiteness. Swank meanwhile was burrowing into the back of Dr. Pease. A moment later I was enclosed in Volstead, a disguise which I had never thought to assume. The air was suffocating inside and to fortify myself I nibbled a fragment of A-P with ironic appreciation of the contrast between the outer man and the inner. Swank, not to be outdone, solaced himself with a smoke which must surely have irked the cold semblance of the arch anti-cigarettist. But I hissed a warning and the blue smoke spiral ceased. From then on we waited. The time was interminable. It was probably not more than thirty minutes, but it seemed hours. My A-P was exhausted and I began to think of quitting. Then, with a suddenness that nearly caused me to fall through Volstead's abdomen, things began to happen. I glanced at Dr. Pease; he was trembling slightly, or maybe it was my own excitement. DINNER IS SERVED The closeness of primitive man to the abysmal brute is strikingly illustrated in the accompanying photograph. Makuik at mealtime must surely remind the reader of the Bronx Park Zoo at that time which the poet beautifully describes: "Between the dark and the daylight, When the lions release their lung-power, Comes a pause in the day's occupation Which is known as the feeding-hour." Eskimo diet varies with the season. During the long winter it consists mainly of the fatty overcoats worn by seal, walrus and otary. Another favorite _plate_ is made, en casserole, with alternate layers of whale-blubber and seal-flippers. The result tastes very much like stewed tennis-shoes. These wobbly dishes, garnished with seal-eyes, are served on squares of hide and are scraped-up with flippers or guppy-fins. Both hide and flipper are eaten at the close of the meal which eliminates the tedious dish-washing, wiping and putting-away of so-called civilized housekeeping. These blubberous foods supply the calories (about 2000 to the square inch) necessary to combat the absurd temperature of the winter season. When the sun re-appears in the spring and the song of the first lapwing is heard, the Eskimo begins to think intently of raw meat. "_Ukuk matok tomatok_," he mutters to himself. "I must have some vitamines." The scent of a bear two miles to windward crazes the native huntsman and speedily sets him to sharpening his spears and knives to razor-keenness. Yet so strict is his observance of Kryptok law that when a kill has been made he will touch no morsel until the meat has been divided according to the custom, for the chief the sirloins and porterhouses, for the lesser men the second and third joints and for the women the ribs, rump, neck and feet or whatever else is left.