“That is true,” returned the Indian, with a brighter look, “though I thought that Adolay feared nothing—but she is not her father.”
This wise and obvious truism, or the words of the Eskimo, seemed to afford some comfort to the poor man, for he became more communicative and confidential after that.
“Do you think,” asked Cheenbuk, “that your daughter has married this young man?”
“I know not.”
“Don’t you think it is likely?”
“I fear it is not unlikely.”
“Why should you fear it? Are not the Eskimos as strong and brave as the men-of-the-woods?”
For a moment the Indian looked at his companion with high disdain, for the boastful question had aroused within him the boastful spirit; but the look quickly disappeared, and was replaced by the habitual air of calm gravity.
“It may be, as you say, that your nation is as brave and strong as ours—”
“I did not say that,” remarked the free-and-easy Eskimo, interrupting his companion in a way that would have been deemed very bad manners in an Indian, “I asked you the question.”