Several other chiefs addressed the assembly, and then dinner, if we
may so call it, was served. In Charley's case it was breakfast; to
the Indians it was breakfast, dinner, and supper in one. It consisted
of a large platter of dried meat, reindeer tongues (considered a
great delicacy), and marrow-bones.

Notwithstanding the graphic power with which Jacques had prepared his
young companion for this meal, Charley's heart sank when he beheld
the mountain of boiled meat that was placed before him. He was
ravenously hungry, it is true, but it was patent to his perception at
a glance that no powers of gormandizing of which he was capable could
enable him to consume the mass in the course of one day.

Jacques observed his consternation, and was not a little entertained
by it, although his face wore an expression of profound gravity while
he proceeded to attack his own dish, which was equal to that of his
friend.

Before commencing, a small portion of meat was thrown into the fire
as a sacrifice to the Great Master of Life.

"How they do eat, to be sure!" whispered Charley to Jacques, after he
had glanced in wonder at the circle of men who were devouring their
food with the most extraordinary rapidity.

"Why, you must know," replied Jacques, "that it's considered a point
of honour to get it over soon, and the man that is done first gets
most credit. But it's hard work" (he sighed, and paused a little to
breathe), "and I've not got half through yet."