“If only I could send a bird dart through her,” said the man. And as he spoke, the woman fell down on her back and broke her knife.
And then he rowed on his way. And on his way he met a man, and rowed up to him.
“See what a skin I have stretched out here,” said the stranger. And he knew at once it was his son’s kayak. The stranger had eaten his son, and there was his skin stretched out. The man therefore went up on land and trampled that man-eater to death, so that all his bones were crushed.
Atungait, Who Went A-Wandering
Atungait, that great man, had once, it is said, a fancy to go out on a sledge trip with a strong woman.
He took a ribbon seal and had it flayed, and forbade his wife to scrape the meat side clean, so that the skin might be as thick as possible. And so he had it dried.
When the winter had come, he went out to visit a tribe well known for their eagerness in playing football. He stayed among them for some time, and watched the games, carefully marking who was strongest among the players. And he saw that there was one among them a woman small of stature, who yet always contrived to snatch the ball from the others. Therefore he gave her the great thick skin he had brought with him, and told her to knead it soft. And this she did, though no other woman could have done it. Then he took her on his sledge and drove off on a wandering through the lands around.
On their way they came to a high and steep rock, rising up from the open water. Atungait sprang up on to that rock, and began running up it. So strong was he that at every step he bored his feet far down into the rock.