Page:Eskimo Folk-Tales (1921).djvu/68

54 In the evening, his wife began again asking and asking, and seeing that she would not desist, at last he said:

“It was in this way. Once… well, I woke up in the evening, and rowed out, and heard a man crying for help, because his kayak had upset. And I rowed up to him and righted him again, and when I looked at him, it was one of the Noseless Ones.”

“ ‘It was a good thing you were not idling about by the houses,’ said the Noseless One to me.

“ ‘I had but just got into my kayak,’ ” [sic] said I.”

And thus he told all that had happened to him that day, and from that time forward he lost his power of hunting, for now his old sleepiness came over him once more, and he lost all.

At last he had not even skins enough to give his wife for her clothes, and so she ran away and left him. He set off in chase, but she escaped through a crevice in the rocks, a narrow place whereby he could just pass.

Now he lay in wait there, and soon he heard a whispering inside:

“You go out to him.”

And out crawled a blowfly, and said:

“Take me.”

“I will not take you,"” said the wifeless man, “for you pick your food from the muck-heaps.”

The blowfly laughed and crawled back again, and he could hear it say:

“He will not take me, because I pick my food from the muck-heaps.”

Then there was more whispering inside.

“Now you go out.”

And out came a fly.

“You may have me,” it said.

“Thanks,” said the wifeless man, “but I do not care for you at all. You lay your eggs about anyhow, and your eyes are quite abominably big.”

At this the fly laughed, and went inside with the same message as before.

Again there was a whispering inside.

“Take me,” said the cranefly.