"Naah! Naah!" the hunters cried. "Put the child out! Send him to bed. He should not talk to gray-beards this way!" Keesh waited until the noise stopped. "You have a wife, Ugh-gluk," he said. "And you speak for her. My mother has no one but me. So I speak. As I say, Bok hunted greatly, but is now dead. It is only fair then that my mother, who was his wife, and I, his son, should have meat when the tribe has meat. I, Keesh, son of Bok, have spoken." Again, there was a great noise in the igloo. The council ordered Keesh to bed. It even talked of giving him no food. Keesh jumped to his feet. "Hear me!" he cried. "Never shall I speak in the council igloo again. I shall go hunt meat like my father, Bok." There was much laughter when Keesh spoke of hunting. The laughter followed Keesh as he left the council meeting. The next day, Keesh started out for the shore, where the land meets the ice. Those who watched saw that he carried his bow and many arrows. Across his shoulder was his father's big hunting spear. Again there was laughter. One day passed, then a second. On the third day, a great wind blew. There was no sign of Keesh. His mother, Ikeega, put burned seal oil on her face to show her sorrow. The women shouted at their men for letting the little boy go. The men made no answer, but got ready to search for the body of Keesh.