For a few moments Ogga disappeared and when again he stood at the doorway he was accoutred for the hunt which was to be the day’s occupation.
A long knife made of green nephritic stone hung by a twisted cord about his neck, close fitting skin trousers of fox’s or wolf’s skin, the fur cut or burnt off to the surface of the hide, covered his legs, a belt of mastodon skin girded his waist, held in place by two pins of bone. A sort of shawl or mantel tied at the cincture of his neck was thrown backward behind his shoulders. This latter element of his attire was the entire skin of a reindeer, curtailed of its tail and legs, and forming a sort of peak or hood above his head. A basket, holding the pemmican-like masses which Lhatto had taken with her to the shore, some flint-stones, or “fire makers,” and scraps of dried and powdered wood, were fastened to his belt, and in one hand he swung a formidable spear.
This latter weapon, the insignia and instrument of his trade and prowess, was an illustrious example of wild art. It was almost seven feet long--the shaft made of a dense arbor-vitae wood much rubbed and rudely ornamented with incised lines, herring bone patterns, and circles; the shaft bore at its bifurcated or socketed extremity a superb flat blade of walrus ivory, the tusk or canine of one of these phocidean creatures, but despoiled of its cylindricity, and made into an evenly tapering javelin of fatal power. Two rings of dark green stone, cemented with pitch, held it firmly to the handle, and inscribed upon it was a doubtful outline of a mastodon. One other implement completed his equipment. It was a stone hammer of fair proportions, withed tightly to a wooden handle which clasped it around its hollowed sides, and came together beyond it. This was stuck, handle down, into his belt.
The hunter stood still, and shading his eyes, as if irresolute, looked towards a remote oval of water which, suddenly illuminated by the sun, threw its rays upward with the intensity of a spectrum. His inspection of the distant spot was satisfactory. He grunted and turned down the path. It led after a few premonitory winds straight down the embankment, and after half a mile entered the seclusion of a small cedar wood. The trees were not, however, in such proximity as to preclude the sunlight. There were more or less open spaces, and here in charming profusion grew clumps of wild anemone. Inside the wood, the murmur of running water at a distance became quickly audible, its faint vibrations failing to penetrate entirely the acoustic hedge of trees.