Long ago there was an Eskimo family living in a place quite by themselves, and far away from any village.
The father had been killed by a caribou some years before, so the widowed mother was alone with her two sons. They had been little boys when the father died, but now they were young men and fine hunters.
Every day they used to go hunting. Always they brought back game of some kind, so the family lived on the fat of the land.
At that time there were many caribou, which in those days had long sharp teeth and could bite and kill people. Men used to hunt them with bows and arrows and spears.
One day the two young men went out to hunt as usual, but this time they did not return.
Days passed and they did not come. Their poor mother was sad and anxious, waiting for them. Every day she looked about and watched and waited, but still they did not come home. She did not dare to go far from the house to search for them, for she was afraid of the fierce caribou with their sharp teeth.
One day as she was watching, always hoping to see her sons coming back, a big crow came flying by. She called out, “Crow, Crow, can you tell me where are my two boys?”
And the crow said, “Yes, I know where your two boys are.” Then he flew up still higher and circled about saying, “Caw, caw!” and the poor mother was nearly frantic for fear that he would fly away without telling her.
“O please come back!” she cried; but he flew a little higher, teasingly saying, “Caw, caw! Wouldn’t you like to know?”