However, the youth refused; later, he said, he might look for a wife, but for the present he was quite content without one. Then one day he went off in his kayak to look for ducks and other game. All day he paddled up the river, but he saw nothing. When night came he made a rough shelter for himself among the willows that fringed the bank and lay down. But he felt a little nervous and did not sleep very well, so before daylight he rose, ate a little seal meat that he had with him, and set out again up the river.

    All that morning he paddled along without seeing any signs of game. Dense willows lined the river bank on one side, but on the other there were short stretches of beach. In the afternoon the youth turned his kayak towards the more open bank and went ashore to examine the country ahead, for it was all strange to him. He took the kayak out of the water, turned it on its side, and propped it against a stake, intending to return after a while.

    He pondered a moment as to which way to go, then started off inland. Evening was drawing near when suddenly he noticed a number of girls playing hide and seek (imutaq); strangely enough, they wore no clothes. He crept near to watch them. “I never saw girls like this before,” he said to himself, and crept closer and closer until he had a good view of them. There was one he particularly admired; she was more beautiful than the rest; but how was he to seize her and carry her off? “Here is a fine place for you to hide,” he thought. “Come over this way.” Even as he thought thus, she began to run towards him. He concealed himself cautiously behind a bush, and when the girl approached, sprang out and seized her. “Let me go,” she said. “Let me go.” “No,” he answered, “You are my wife now.” “Let me go. I’m cold.” “No, no, I’ll give you a skin shirt and you won’t be cold any more.” “I don’t want it,” she said; “I never saw one like that before. I don’t want it.”

    However, he took her away to the place where his kayak was lying. “I’m hungry,” the youth said, and she answered, “So am I.” “Well,” he continued, “I’ll give you some seal meat.” “I don’t know that kind of food,” she said; “I don’t want any.” “Why, it’s good food; it’s what I eat all the time at home.” Nevertheless she hardly touched it. By this time it was dark, so they slept there that night.

    The next morning he put his wife inside the kayak and started off home. All that day they travelled, and at sunset they slept on the bank again; the following day they reached his home.

    Meanwhile his mother had been anxiously watching for his return, but when several days passed and still he did not appear, she lost hope and began to weep. “Alas! I shall never see him again,” she mourned. Still she kept going outside to look, and at last saw him paddling down the river in his kayak. Presently she caught sight of the girl in the bottom of the canoe. “Why, he’s bringing a wife back with him; well done, my son, well done.”

    At last the kayak put in to the beach and the old woman went down to greet them. “You have found a wife at last,” she said. “Yes,” he replied, “I found one.” “Well, I expect she’s hungry,” his mother said; “There is some seal meat and caribou meat in the house. Let her come in and eat.” So the young man turned to his wife and said, “Go inside and have something to eat.” “No,” she said; “I don’t want that kind of food,” and she ate but little of it. But when all was quiet and the rest had gone to bed she gathered a lot of grass and ate that, and so appeased her hunger.

    The days passed quietly; the young man went out hunting, while his wife stayed at home and made his mittens and boots and whatever other clothes he needed. In time she bore him a son and later a daughter, but still she continued to eat grass as before. One day the old woman said to her: “What kind of girl are you that you are always eating grass? Are you a duck?” Then the girl was very angry; she went inside, weeping, dressed her two children, and went out again with them.

    Her husband was away, hunting on the ice. When he came home in the evening he looked round for his wife, but could not see her anywhere. “Father, mother,” he said, “Where is my wife?” “I don’t know,” the old woman answered. “This afternoon she came inside, dressed the two children, and went out again. Perhaps she has run away.” The youth was vexed with his mother and said, “What did you say to make her run away? I shan’t stay with you any longer.” The old woman began to weep bitterly, but all in vain; in the morning the young man went to look for his wife.

    He found her tracks and followed them day after day. One evening he came to a rude shelter. “Ah,” he thought, “This is where my wife slept last night. I’ll sleep here too, and in the morning I’ll overtake her.” So he rose early the next morning and hurried forward, hoping to come up with her very soon; but when night came there was still no sign of her. Another evening, just when darkness was drawing on, he discovered the ashes of his wife’s fire, and they were still warm. He lay down beside them, but could sleep very little for thinking of how he should overtake her on the morrow.

    Again he rose early and pressed forward, but suddenly, looking at her tracks, he exclaimed, “Why, one of her feet is webbed like a duck’s! Perhaps I shall never find her now.” Nor indeed did he come up with her that day. Still he continued to follow her tracks day after day. Once he found the remains of a fire she had kindled, and this time the ashes were very hot, but still there was no sign of the girl herself.

    The next evening though he saw a house in the distance, and hurried towards it, thinking to find his wife there. As he drew near a man called out from within, “Some one has reached me,” [i.e. “Hallo!”]. “U, u,” the youth replied; “Where is my wife?” “How should I know?” the man answered; “I know nothing of your wife.” “O yes, you do,” the young man answered. “Tell me where she is and I’ll make you a present.” “What will you give me?” he said. “I’ll give you an axe.” “All right,” the man answered; “I’ll tell you. Your wife was here last night, but she went away again this morning; she’s a long way off now.” “Never mind,” the youth said; “I’ll find her.” “Well, stay here tonight and in the morning I’ll show you which way she went.” So the youth slept with him that night.

    In the morning the man said, “This is the way she went; but she is a long way off now and you are tired; you had better give up the pursuit.” “No, I’m never tired,” the young man said: “I’ll soon catch up with her,” and he gave the man his axe and went on.

    Day after day he travelled along until he came to another house. A man inside called out “Some one has reached me,” and the youth answered “U, u, where is my wife?” “I don’t know anything about your wife; what are you talking about?” “Yes, you know all right. I’ll make you a present if you tell me.” “What will you give me?” “I’ll give you a pair of sealskin trousers.” “Well, your wife was here last night but she went away again this morning. She had two children with her, a boy and a girl.” “Yes, that was she; tomorrow I’ll overtake her.”

    All the next day he hurried along and in the evening he came to a third house. This time he offered a skin coat. Yes, his wife was there yesterday, but had gone on that morning. He slept at the house that night. Early the following morning the man said, “This is the way that your wife went. Very soon you will come to a big lake. But you are worn out; perhaps you will die on the trail. Better give up the chase.” “No, no, I’m not tired. I’ll overtake her soon;” and away he went.

    Presently he came to a great lake. “Alas!” he said, “How am I to cross? I have no skin boots, no kayak, no axe. I shall never catch her now. I may as well lie down and die.” So he lay on the edge of the lake and fell asleep. He was awakened by something tugging at his leg, and looking down he saw a red fox. He sat up. The fox pulled back its hood, changed into a man, and said, “Where have you come from?” “Oh, I have come from a long way off in pursuit of my wife. Now I have reached this lake and cannot get across; I shall never find her now.”

    But the fox said, “You see that big mountain on the other side? You must climb that. There will be dead Eskimos lying all about the path, but you must take no notice of them; you must keep on and on and on, however tired you are. If you stop only once you will surely die, and never see your wife again. Never mind the dead bodies, keep on going until you reach the top. Then when you get there you will see down below a large village containing many people. One house will be bigger than the rest; that is where your wife lives. Around it there will be plenty of reindeer, and inside abundance of everything that you can wish. Your boy you will find as tall as yourself, and your little girl has grown too. Now sit on my back and close your eyes; don’t look, but just hold on tight.”

    So the young man climbed on to the fox’s back, closed his eyes, and the fox started off. Presently it stopped—the lake was far behind them and they were at the foot of the mountain. Here the young man alighted, and the fox said “We are both glad,” [i.e. “Goodbye”). “Goodbye,” said the youth. “Some day I’ll requite you with a piece of caribou meat or something.” “Very well,” said the fox, “Only remember, don’t stop until you get to the top, however tired you may be.”

    So the young man set out to climb the mountain. All day he walked, never turning to right or left, never heeding the dead bodies with which his path was strewn. No darkness came to obscure the way now, but his legs began to ache long before the top was in sight. Still he struggled on. Once he stumbled and almost fell, so terrible was the aching in his limbs, but looking up he saw the summit just a little way beyond, and with one last effort he managed to gain it.

    Slowly he recovered and looked around him. There below was the village, as the fox had told him; and there was the big house with the reindeer near by. Hurriedly he descended and approached the houses. But now two men came from the big house directly towards him. “What does this mean?” he said to himself; “What do they want?” He searched about, found a stout willow stick, and hid behind a bush. The men came close up and were passing by when he sprang out and smote them one after the other on the back of the neck and slew them. Quickly he dug a hole in the ground and buried them, then hurried on to the big house.

    In the passage he stopped to brush the snow off his clothes and boots. Suddenly the door opened and a boy came out, said “Someone has reached me,” and quickly went inside again, calling out “Mother, father, is here.”

    But the young woman within laughed at him. The boy went outside again and the young man said to him “Boy, give me some water, I’m thirsty; tell your mother to bring it out.” So the boy went inside and told his mother that his father wanted her to take him out some water. Still she did not believe, but said, “What are you talking about, my son? Your father is a long way from here. Your father’s mother was a bad woman, so we left them;” and she refused to go out.

    Then her husband went inside himself and found another man sitting on the sleeping platform. “What are you doing here?” the young man said; “She is my wife, not yours.” The other man was afraid and said never a word, but presently took his mittens and coat and departed. Then the young man turned to his wife and said, “How the boy has grown, and the girl too.” But his wife answered, “You are not my husband. He is far, far away, and can never come here.” “O, but I have come. I am he. You know the river beside the house. I followed you up the river and walked day after day, never stopping until I reached here.” “No Eskimos ever come here,” she rejoined. “This is my country, the ducks’ country. I think you must be some other man, not my husband.”

    “Do you remember the big mountain on this side of the lake? I climbed right up that mountain, never stopping once. My legs ached, my body ached, often I nearly stopped, often nearly dropped down, but I was afraid I should die if I did, and should never reach the top, so I kept on and on, and at last I reached it.” Now at last his wife believed him.

    Her old mother said to her: “Perhaps your husband is hungry and would like something to eat.” So his wife went outside and brought in some food—berries and a few small fish, for, being ducks, they had no seal or caribou meat. Her husband was not used to this kind of food and ate but little, but when his wife’s mother asked him if he had finished he said, “Yes, I have eaten plenty.”

    Then they settled down to talk and his wife’s father said to him: “You know, in your country there is an abundance of everything; plenty of caribou, plenty of seals, plenty of white fish, plenty of white ducks, plenty of willows, plenty of wind; sometimes it is very hot, sometimes very cold; everything is in abundance.” The young man said, “Yes, that is so.” And the old man continued, “Well, how long do you expect to stay here?” “I don’t know,” answered the young man. The old man went on talking and said, “Sometimes strange people come here to attack us, so we have to keep watch.”

    The young man settled down with his wife and her people. One day a villager went outside, and, looking around as usual, saw a dark cloud like smoke coming down from the mountain. He watched it come nearer and nearer until at last he could distinguish that it was a host of duck Eskimos. The villagers turned out to oppose them, and a great battle ensued. The young man—the only real man amongst them all—looked round for a weapon with which to help his wife’s people. He found a stick and laid about him mightily, slaying the enemy by hundreds. All day he pursued them ruthlessly, and ceased at night only because he was tired out.

    Some of the slain he took home with him, and said to his old mother-in-law: “Cook some of these ducks for me. I’ve been hungry for ever so long.” But the old woman said: “No, no, we don’t eat that kind of meat; I don’t want to cook them.” “Well, but I like them,” he rejoined. “Well then, I’ll cook them outside away from the house,” said the old woman. So she cooked them outside, and the young man went outside and ate them. “They were fine,” he said when he came in again, “I had an excellent meal from them and am not hungry any more.”

    He stayed in that place for some time longer, and his wife bore him another son. Then he said, “I shall return to my home again. My wife and her baby, they shall come with me, but the boy and the girl shall stay here.” His parents-in-law asked: “When will you be coming back again?” “I don’t know,” he said; “Perhaps we shall never come back at all. It is a very long way.” So he departed with his wife and baby.