Twelve, accordingly, is represented by 'two toes upon the one foot' (arkanek mardluk), and so forth; seventeen by 'two toes on the second foot' (arfersanek mardluk), and so forth. Thus he manages to mount to twenty, which he calls a whole man (inuk nâvdlugo). Here the mathematical conceptions of many Eskimos come to an end; but men of commanding intellect can count still further, and for one-and-twenty say 'one on the second man' (inûp áipagssâne atausek). Thirty-eight is expressed by three toes on the second man's second foot' (inûp áipagssâne arfinek pingasut), forty by 'the whole of the second man' (inûp áipagssâ nâvdlugo), and so forth. In this way they can count to a hundred, or the whole of the fifth man'; but beyond that his language will not carry even the most gifted Eskimo.
This is, as will be easily understood, a somewhat unwieldy method of expression when one has to deal with numbers over twenty. In former days there was seldom any need to go further than this; but the introduction of money and trade has, unfortunately, rendered this more frequently necessary. It is therefore not surprising that, in spite of their remarkable power of resistance to foreign words, the Greenlanders have begun more and more to adopt the Danish numerals, even for the smaller numbers. By their aid they have now got so far that
