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Updated: May 20, 2025
He ran to get it, and then the twins and the pups all four started for Koko's house. Koko's house was clear at the other end of the village. But that was not far away, for there were only five igloos in the whole town. First there was the igloo where the twins lived. Next was the home of Akla, the Angakok, and his two wives. Then there were two igloos where several families lived together.
Dimly there crept into my mind memory of the Dyak legend of the winged messenger of Buddha the Akla bird whose feathers are woven of the moon rays, whose heart is a living opal, whose wings in flight echo the crystal clear music of the white stars but whose beak is of frozen flame and shreds the souls of unbelievers.
Every night while other cities slept did Andelsprutz sit brooding here and hoping, till thirty wreaths lay mouldering by her walls, and still the armies of Akla could not come. "But after she had hoped so long, and on the night that faithful spies had brought her thirtieth wreath, Andelsprutz went suddenly mad.
But everybody in the whole village where Menie and Monnie live was simply astonished to see twin babies! They had never known of any before in their whole lives. Old Akla, the Angakok, or Medicine Man of the village, shook his head when he heard about them. He said, "Such a thing never happened here before. Seals and human beings never have twins! There's magic in this."
And I saw a man of a more slender build, who had black hair, and channels in his cheeks for tears to run in, and I said to him: "Why is Andelsprutz quite dead, and when did her soul go hence?" And he answered: "Andelsprutz hoped too much. For thirty years would she stretch out her arms toward the land of Akla every night, to Mother Akla from whom she had been stolen.
Every night she would be hoping and sighing, and stretching out her arms to Mother Akla. At midnight, once a year, on the anniversary of the terrible day, Akla would send spies to lay a wreath against the walls of Andelsprutz. She could do no more. And on this night, once in every year, I used to weep, for weeping was the mood of the city that nursed me.
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