“You, Qasiagssaq, I have come to ask if you will give back that tow-line.”
Qasiagssaq sprang up and said:
“Here it is; you may take it back now.”
But his wife, who was beside him, said:
“When Qasiagssaq does such things, one cannot but feel shame for him.”
“Hrrrr!” said Qasiagssaq to his wife, as if to frighten her. And after that he went about as if nothing had happened.
One day when he was out in his kayak as usual, he said:
“What is the use of my being out here, I who never catch anything?”
And he rowed in towards land. When he reached the shore, he took off his breeches, and sat down on the ground, laying one knee across a stone. Then he took another stone to serve as a hammer, and with that he hammered both his knee-caps until they were altogether smashed.
And there he lay. He lay there for a long time, but at last he got up and went down to his kayak, and now he could only walk with little and painful steps. And when he came down to his kayak, he hammered and battered at that, until all the woodwork was broken to pieces. And then, getting into it, he piled up a lot of fragments of iceberg upon it, and even placed some inside his clothes, which were of ravens’ skin. And so he rowed home.