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QUIQUERN
The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow—
They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go.
The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight:
They sell their furs to the trading-post: they sell their soul to the white.
They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go.
The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight:
They sell their furs to the trading-post: they sell their soul to the white.
The People of the Southern Ice, they trade with the whaler's crew;
Their women have many ribbons, but their tents are torn and few.
But the People of the Elder Ice, beyond the white man's ken—
Translation.Their spears are made of the narwhal horn, and they are the last of the Men.
Their women have many ribbons, but their tents are torn and few.
But the People of the Elder Ice, beyond the white man's ken—
Translation.Their spears are made of the narwhal horn, and they are the last of the Men.
'
e has opened his eyes. Look!'
'Put him in the skin again. He will be a strong dog. On the fourth month we will name him.'
'For whom? ' said Amoraq.
Kadlu's eyerolled round the skin-lined snow-house till it came to fourteen year old Kotuko sitting on the sleeping-bench, making a button out of walrus ivory. 'Name him for me,'
