Everybody was so glad to see the light again that they all began to
talk at once.
Some one said to Kesshoo, "Tell us about the long journey to the south
you took once long ago."
Then everybody else listened, while Kesshoo told about how once he had
taken his dog sledge with a load of musk-ox and seal skins on it far
down the coast and how at last he had come to a little settlement where
the houses were all made of wood, if they would believe it!
He told them that in the bay before the village there was a boat as big
as the Big Rock itself. It had queer white wings, and the wind blew on
these wings and made the boat go!
Kesshoo had been out in a kyak to see it. He had even paddled all round
it. The men on the great boat had fair hair, and one of them, the chief
man of all, had bought some of Kesshoo's skins and one of his dogs. The
man was a great chief. His name was Nansen.
This great chief had told Kesshoo that he was going to take a sledge
and go straight into the inland country where the Giants live! He said
he was going to cross the great ice! No man had ever done that since
the world began.
Kesshoo thought probably the great chief had been eaten by the Giants,
but he did not know surely, because he had never been back there since
to find out. And to be sure, if he had been eaten by Giants, no one
ever would know about it anyway.
Then Kesshoo showed them all a great knife that the white chief had
given him, in exchange for a sealskin, and two steel needles that he
had sent to Koolee. Koolee kept the needles in a little ivory case all
by themselves.
She always carried the case in her kamik, so it would not be lost. She
could do wonderful sewing with the needles. Koolee was very proud of
her sewing. No one else in the whole village could sew so well, because
they had not such good needles to do it with. Koolee used them only for
her very finest work.
At last the Angakok said, "It is time to go home." He called to his
wives. They climbed down off the bench.
That started the others. One after another they put on their upper
garments, which they had taken off in the warm igloo, said good bye,
and popped down into the tunnel. Last of all came the Angakok's turn.
Then Kesshoo and Koolee and the Angakok's wives all began to look very
anxious. The Angakok looked a little worried himself. If he had stuck
coming in, what would happen now after he had eaten so much!
He got down on his hands and knees, and looked at the hole. He had
taken off his thick fur coat when he came in. Now he took off his
undercoat, and his thick fur trousers! He gave them to his wives.
Then he stretched himself out just as long as he possibly could and
slowly hitched himself down into the tunnel, groaning all the way.
Kesshoo and Koolee and the wives waited until his feet disappeared, and
they heard him scraping along through the tunnel. Then they breathed a
great sigh of relief, and the two wives popped down after him.
The last Kesshoo and Koolee heard of the Angakok, was a kind of muffled
roar when a piece of ice fell from the top of the tunnel on to his bare
back.
Menie and Monnie and the pups were already sound asleep in their corner
of the bench when their father and mother fixed the lamp for the night
and crawled in among the fur robes beside them.