“They come from my friends.”
“What do they want?”
“To know you; to trade with you.”
“But we have never had anything to do with Indians!” Guninana broke in. Entertaining Indians was the limit, far, far worse than being expected to eat cloudberries. Before this Kabluna left he would have turned their world upside down.
“That is no reason why we need not meet them now,” Taptuna mildly suggested.
His family gazed at him in silent horror, unable to believe he actually approved of taking such tremendous risks. Noashak had burrowed under her mother’s arm for protection. All she understood of the talk was that Indians lurked in the woods. Omialik sat quiet. Kak strutted in the background. Then Okak rose to his feet. He had been struck dumb, now he found speech. With blanched countenance and knocking knees he faced them, but his voice rang out:
“Listen, friends. We have had no good from these red men; our fathers had no good from their fathers. Always when we come in contact, our tribes and theirs, it is to destroy. We have killed their kin and they have killed our kin; and now doubtless these strangers are plotting to kill again. They cannot come with any but evil and treacherous intentions, for their hearts are treacherous. They flatter us by smiles and with soft sentences while knives are hidden in their clothing. They will trade among us, you say? Yes, they will betray us, and kill the whole tribe out of hand when the first chance offers. I tell you—all Indians are bad Indians.”
Okak’s terror winged his words. He felt himself the savior of his people, delivering a solemn warning in a desperate crisis; and under the influence of this noble emotion he made a very fine speech. The harangue lasted about ten minutes and many families from other tents gathered around to hear what was going on. They listened amazed; then had to be taken into confidence. As soon as the village caught the drift of this news hubbub broke loose. Some argued for the visit, some against it, and some both ways at once. All went mad with excitement. The only unchanging voices were Taptuna’s dignified support and Kak’s persistent bragging.
When the Eskimos heard Kak had already talked with Indians, camped with them, journeyed with them, he became a center of interest. They pressed on him a hundred questions and he expanded marvelously, giving them all they wanted, letting his imagination run riot. But soon, in spite of gorgeous tales and towering adventure, the dullest of them reasoned, “If a mere lad does such things the red men cannot be so frightful after all.”
“Frightful! Huh, no!” cried the boy. “They’re too cowardly to be frightful! Why, these three big fellows were afraid of me! They started north to meet Eskimos and were scared to enter our camp after seeing me.”