Towards evening a number of kayaks came in sight; it was people coming on a visit, and they had all brought meat with them. When they came in, they said:
“Tell Qasiagssaq and his wife to come down and fetch up this meat for their little girl.”
“Qasiagssaq and his wife have no children; we know Qasiagssaq well, and his wife is childless.”
When the strangers heard this, they would not even land at the place, but simply said:
“Then tell them to give us back the beads and the cooking pot.”
And those things were brought, and given back to them.
Then Qasiagssaq’s wife said as usual:
“Now you have lied again. When you do such things, one cannot but feel shame for you.”
“Hrrrr!” said Qasiagssaq, to frighten her, and went on as if nothing had happened.
Now it is said that Qasiagssaq’s wife Qigdlugsuk had a mother who lived in another village, and had a son whose name was Ernilik. One day Qasiagssaq set out to visit them. He came to their place, and when he entered into the house, it was quite dark, because they had no blubber for their lamp, and the little child was crying, because it had nothing to eat. Qasiagssaq cleared his throat loudly and said:
“What is the matter with him?”
“He is hungry, as usual,” said the mother.
Then said Qasiagssaq:
“How foolish I was not to take so much as a little blubber with me. Over in our village, seals are daily thrown away. You must come back with me to our place.”
Next morning they set off together. When they reached the place, Qasiagssaq hurried up with the harpoon line in his hand, before his wife’s mother had landed. And all she saw was that there was much carrion of ravens on Qasiagssaq’s rubbish heap. Suddenly Qasiagssaq cried out:
“Ah! One of them has got away again!”
He had caught a raven in his snare. His wife cooked it, and their lamp was a shoulder-blade, and another shoulder-blade was their cooking pot, and when that meat was cooked, Qigdlugsuk’s mother
