Once there were eight brothers …
Once, long ago, and far to the North from here, there were a people, a tribe of whale hunters; and in this tribe were eight brothers who were the greatest of all the whale hunters throughout the known world.
Every day these eight brothers would climb into their boats, don their waterproof clothing which was made from the skin of whale tongues, and go out to sea in search of whales. Every day they would come back with a whale.
The people of the tribe prospered. Their stomachs were full of good whale meat, their bodies perfumed with whale oil and flower mixtures, and their hands did not remain idle. Having the tasks to do of flensing the whales and preparing the meat for storage, of selling and trading the extra meat, the people, every one of them, were happy.
For a time.
For soon a day came when the brothers went out as usual, hunting for whales; but no whales were to be found. The brothers returned to their village, heads hanging in shame.
They confessed their failure to the leaders of the tribe.
The leaders of the tribe, knowing that all the houses of the village were full of good whale meat and all the other fine foods which were purchased through the trade of the whale meat, told the brothers not to worry. One man stood, the eldest elder of them all, and told the brothers “ It is not a shame to you, who have brought in a whale every day since first you began to hunt, to miss one day.”
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