With a look of deeper gravity than usual the Indian replied:
“To your question no true answer can be given till all the men of both nations have tried their courage and their strength. But such matters should only be discussed by foolish boys, not by men. Yet I cannot help confessing that it is a very common thing among our young braves to boast. Is it so among the Eskimos?”
The Eskimo laughed outright at this.
“Yes,” said he, “our young men sometimes do that—some of them; but not all. We have a few young men among us who know how to hold their tongues and when to speak.”
“That is useful knowledge. Will my son speak now, and tell me what he knows about Adolay?”
“He knows that she is well spoken of, and much loved by the tribe with which she lives.”
“That is natural,” said the Indian, with a pleased look. “No one who sees Adolay can help loving her. Does the young man who took her away treat her kindly?”
“No one can tell that but herself. What if he treated her ill?”
“I would hope never to meet with him face to face,” replied Nazinred, with a frown and a nervous clenching of the fist that spoke volumes.
“I have heard,” continued Cheenbuk in a quiet way, “that the girl is very sad. She thinks much of her old home, and blames herself for having left it.”