It is not usual in Eskimo land to indulge in ceremonious salutation. Okiok was naturally a straightforward and brusque man. It will not therefore surprise any one to be told that he began his interview with—
“Kunelik, your son Ippegoo is a lanky fool!”
“He is,” assented Kunelik, with quiet good-humour.
“He has given himself,” continued Okiok, “spirit and body, to that villain Ujarak.”
“He has,” assented Kunelik again.
“Where is he now?”
“I do not know.”
“But me knows,” said a small sweet little child-voice from the midst of a bundle of furs.
It was the voice of Pussi. That Eskimo atom had been so overcome with sleep at the breaking up of the festivities of the previous night that she was unable to distinguish between those whom she loved and those for whom she cared not. In these circumstances, she had seized the first motherly tail that came within her reach, and followed it home. It chanced to belong to Kunelik, so she dropped down and slept beside her.
“You know, my dear little seal?” said Okiok in surprise.