biggest of the bears–a mother with two half-grown cubs–grasped that bear with his naked fists, and wrung its neck, so that it fell down dead. Then he took those cubs by the back of the neck and hammered their skulls together until they too were dead.
Then little Kâgssagssuk went back homeward with the biggest bear over his shoulders, and one cub under each arm, as if they had been no more than hares. Thus he brought them up to the house, and skinned them; then he set about building a fireplace large enough to put a man in. For he was now going to cook bears’ meat for his grandmother, on a big flat stone.
Umerdlugtoq, that great man, now made haste to get away, taking his wives with him.
And Kâgssagssuk took that old grandmother who was wont to beat him, and cast her on the fire, and she burned all up till only her stomach was left. His other grandmother was about to run away, but he held her back, and said:
“I shall now be kind to you, for you always used to dry my boots.”
Now when Kâgssagssuk had made a meal of the bears’ meat, he set off in chase of those who had fled away. Umerdlugtoq had halted upon the top of a high hill, just on the edge of a precipice, and had pitched their tent close to the edge.
Up came Kâgssagssuk behind him, caught him by the nostrils and held him out over the edge, and shook him so violently that his nostrils burst. And there stood Umerdlugtoq holding his nose. But Kâgssagssuk said to him:
“Do not fear; I am not going to kill you. For you never used to kill me.”
And then little Kâgssagssuk went into the tent, and called out to him:
“Hi, come and look! I am in here with your wives!”
For in the old days, Umerdlugtoq had dared him even to look at them.
And having thus taken due vengeance, Kâgssagssuk went back to his village, and took vengeance there on all those who had ever ill-treated him. And some time after, he went away to the southward, and lived with the people there.
