“Eat grass!” exclaimed the mother of Arbalik.
“So he says, and also beasts that have horns—”
“Reindeer?” suggested Kunelik.
“No; the horns are short, with only one point to each; and the beasts are much heavier than reindeer. They have also great beasts, with no name in our language—hurses or hosses he calls them,—but they don’t eat these; they make them haul sledges on little round things called weels—”
“I know,” cried Sigokow; “they must be big dogs!”
“Huk!” exclaimed old Kannoa, who confined her observations chiefly to that monosyllable and a quiet chuckle.
“No,” returned Nuna, becoming a little impatient under these frequent interruptions; “they are not dogs at all, but hurses—hosses—with hard feet like stones, and iron boots on them.”
A general exclamation of incredulous surprise broke forth at this point, and the mother of Arbalik silently came to the conclusion that Nuna had at last joined the liars of the community, and was making the most of her opportunities, and coming out strong.
“Let there be no talk, and I will speak,” said Nuna somewhat indignantly; “if you interrupt me again, I will send you all away to your huts!”
This threat produced silence, and a sniff from Arbalik’s mother. Mrs Okiok went on:—