By that time Norrak was in the water, but he made a vigorous grasp at his brother’s kayak with one hand, while with the other he clutched the line of the harpoon—for well did he know that dead seals sink, and that if it went down it would perhaps carry the bladder along with it, and so be lost.
“Give me the line, brother,” said Ermigit, extending a hand.
“No. I can hold it. You make for shore—quick.” Ermigit plied his paddle with a will, and in a few minutes reached the shore with Norrak, bladder, line, and seal like a huge tail behind him.
Need we say that they were received by their friends, as well as by the strange Eskimos, with enthusiasm? We think not. Neither is it necessary to comment on the enjoyment they found that night in a supper of fresh meat, and in fighting the battle, as well as a good many other battles, over again. But in the midst of it all there was a cloud on the brows of Angut, Simek, and Okiok, for their anxiety about the fate of Nunaga, Pussi, and Tumbler was intense.
Angut was particularly restless during the night, and got up several times to take a look at the weather, as Rooney expressed it.
On one of these occasions he found the Kablunet standing by the shore of the calm sea.
“I don’t like the look o’ things,” said Rooney, giving a sailor-like glance at the horizon and the sky. “It seems to me as if we were goin’ to have dirty weather.”
Instead of replying to this remark, the Eskimo looked earnestly at his friend, and asked—
“Can Ridroonee tell me why the Great Spirit allows men to do evil?”
“No, Angut, no. That is beyond my knowledge. Indeed I remember puttin’ the same question, or somethin’ like it, to a learned man in my country, and he said it is beyond the knowledge of the wisest men that have ever lived—so it’s no wonder that it’s beyond you and me.”