At last, late in the evening, that old woman who was Ailaq’s mother began to speak.
“You have killed Ailaq.”
“No, I did not kill him,” answered Papik.
Then the old woman rose up and cried:
“You killed him, and said no word. The day shall yet come when I will eat you alive, for you killed Ailaq, you and no other.”
And now the old woman made ready to die, for it was as a ghost she thought to avenge her son. She took her bearskin coverlet over her, and went and sat down on the shore, close to the water, and let the tide come up and cover her.
For a long time after this, Papik did not go out hunting at all, so greatly did he fear the old woman’s threat. But at last he ceased to think of the matter, and began to go out hunting as before.
One day two men stood out on the ice by the breathing holes. Papik had chosen his place a little farther off, and stood there alone. And then it came. They heard the snow creaking, with the sound of a cry, and the sound moved towards Papik, and a fog came down over the ice. And soon they heard shouts as of one in a fury, and the screaming of one in fear; the monster had fallen upon Papik, to devour him.
And now they fled in towards land, swerving wide to keep away from what was happening there. On their way, they met sledges with hunters setting out; they threw down their gear, and urged the others to return to their own place at once, lest they also should be slain by fear.
When they reached their village, all gathered together in one house. But soon they heard the monster coming nearer over the ice, and then all hurried to the entrance, and crowding together, grew yet more greatly stricken with fear. And pressing thus against each other, they struggled so hard that one fatherless boy was thrust aside and fell into a tub full of blood. When he got up, the blood poured from his clothes, and wherever they went, the snow was marked with blood.