That night after the evening meal, Tuktu begged her father to once more tell the story of the Valley of the Good Spirit and of the chosen reindeer. “Why is it called the Valley of the Good Spirit?” she asked.
“Because,” replied Kutok, “a wonderful and good spirit lives and moves there.”
“Has any one ever seen him?” Aklak asked.
“No,” replied Kutok, “none but the deer people, and of these only the chosen ones ever go down into that valley. But we know that a good spirit lives there, for always the deer that graze on the hills about the valley are safe from the wolf, the bear, and all other enemies. They do not need to be watched. There need be no herder here, were it not that it is well to know when the herd moves out, for then the summer grazing is over. It is a good spirit, for is it not true that every year eight deer are chosen and the next year returned to us the finest sled-deer in all the North? The Good Spirit dwells there and with him live many lesser spirits, who do his bidding.”
Thus it was that Kutok told the children of what you and I know as fairies, and elves, and gnomes, and trolls. Eskimo children know nothing about these little unseen people. To them, all are spirits.
“Have you ever looked down into the valley?” asked Aklak.
“No,” replied Kutok. “It is not well to be curious. I am content to stay here and wait for the deer to move. So must you be.”
“What would happen if one should venture down into the valley?” asked Aklak.
“That no man knows, for no man has ever been so bold as even to think of doing such a thing,” replied his father. “My son, be wise with the wisdom of your elders, and be satisfied. None but the deer folk ever enter that valley and these, only the chosen ones. We will stay here and from a distance watch the herd.”
“If it is such a good spirit,” thought Tuktu, although she didn’t venture to express her thought aloud, “why should any one fear to go down into the valley?”