“I thought,” said Ippegoo, somewhat timidly, “that your torngak told you everything.”
“You are a fool, Ippegoo.”
“I know it, master; but can you not make me more wise by teaching me?”
“Some people are hard to teach,” said Ujarak.
“That is also true,” returned the youth mournfully. “I know that you can never make me an angekok. Perhaps it would be better not to try.”
“No. You are mistaken,” said the wizard in a more cheerful tone, for he felt that he had gone too far. “You will make a good enough angekok in time, if you will only attend to what I say, and be obedient. Come, I will explain to you. Torngaks, you must understand, do not always tell all that they know. Sometimes they leave the angekok dark, for a purpose that is best known to themselves. But they always tell enough for the guidance of a wise man—”
“But—but—I am not a wise man, you know,” Ippegoo ventured to remark.
“True; but when I have made you an angekok then you will become a wise man—don’t you see?”
As the word angekok signifies “wise man,” Ippegoo would have been a fool indeed had he failed to see the truism. The sight raised his spirits, and made him look hopeful.
“Well, then, stupid one, speak not, but listen. As I have before told you, I love Nunaga and Nunaga loves me—”