“There is something in what you say,” returned the Eskimo, as the lines of unusually intense thought wrinkled his brow; “but for all that you say, I think there are no torngaks, and that Ujarak is a liar as well as a fool.”
“I agree with you, Okiok, because I think you have good reason for your disbelief. In the first place, it is well-known that Ujarak is a liar, but that is not enough, for liar though he be, he sometimes tells the truth. Then, in the second place, he is an ass—hum! I forgot—you don’t know what an ass is; well, it don’t matter, for, in the third place, he never gave any proof to anybody of what he and his torngak are said to have seen and done, and, strongest reason of all, this familiar spirit of his acts unwisely—for what could be more foolish than to choose out of all the tribe a poor half-witted creature like Ippegoo for the next angekok?”
A gleaming glance of intelligent humour lighted up Okiok’s face as he said—
“Ujarak is wiser than his torngak in that. He wants to make use of the poor lad for his own wicked ends. I know not what these are—but I have my suspicions.”
“So have I,” broke in Nuna at this point, giving her pot a rap with the cooking-stick by way of emphasis.
Rooney laughed.
“You think he must be watched, and his mischief prevented?” he said.
“That’s what I think,” said Okiok firmly.
“Tell me, what are the ceremonies to be gone through by that poor unwilling Ippegoo, before he can be changed into a wise man?”
“Oh, he has much to do,” returned Okiok, with his eyes on the lamp-flame and his head a little on one side, as if he were thinking. “But I am puzzled. Ujarak is cunning, though he is not wise; and I am quite sure he has some secret reason for hurrying on this business. He is changing the customs, and that is never done for nothing.”