“Houses? O yes; plenty of ’em—made of stone.”
“Like the summer-houses of the Innuit, I suppose?” said Angut. “Are they as big?”
Rooney laughed at this, and said, Yes; they were much bigger—as big as the cliffs alongside.
“Huk!” exclaimed the Eskimos in various tones. Okiok’s tone, indeed, was one of doubt; but Angut did not doubt his new friend for a moment, though his credulity was severely tested when the seaman told him that one of the villages of his countrymen covered a space as big as they could see—away to the very horizon, and beyond it.
“But, Angut,” said Rooney, growing somewhat weary at last, “you’ve asked me many questions; will you answer a few now?”
“I will answer.”
“I have heard it said,” began the sailor, “that Angut is a wise man—an angekok—among his people, but that he denies the fact. Why does he deny it?”
The Eskimo exchanged solemn glances with his host, then looked round the circle, and said that some things could not be explained easily. He would think first, and afterwards he would talk.
“That is well said,” returned Rooney. “‘Think well before you speak’ is a saying among my own people.”
He remained silent for a few moments after that, and observed that Okiok made a signal to his two boys. They rose immediately, and left the hut.