“I know not what I think. When I try to think on these things my mind gets confused. Only this am I sure of—that they are, they must be, the wonderful works of the Good Spirit.”
“But how do you know that?” asked Rooney.
Angut looked at his questioner very earnestly for a few moments.
“How does Ridroonee know that he is alive?” he asked abruptly.
“Oh, as to that, you know, everything tells me that I am alive. I look around, and I see. I listen, and I hear. I think, and I understand—leastwise to some extent,—and I feel in mind and heart.”
“Now will I answer,” said Angut. “Everything tells me that the Great Spirit is good, and the Maker of all things. I look, and I see Him in the things that exist. I listen, and I hear Him in the whispering wind, in the running water, in the voice of man and beast. I think, and I understand Him to some extent, and I feel Him both in mind and heart.”
“I believe you are right, Angut, and your words bring strongly to my remembrance many of the words of the Great Spirit that my mother used to teach me when I was a little boy.”
From this point in the conversation Angut became the questioner, being anxious to know all that the Kablunet had to tell about the mysterious Book, of which he had spoken to him more than once, and the teachings of his mother.
It was long past midnight when the descending moon warned them to turn their steps towards the ice-cave where they had left their slumbering companions.
“The frost is sharp to-night,” remarked Rooney as they were about to enter.