ng the savages seem more restless and surly than ever, for
they are hungrier than ever, and nearly famishing. They have picked the
kelp-reef clean, leaving not a mussel nor limpet on it; they have
explored the ribbon of beach as far as it extends, and stripped the
trees of their fungus parasites till none remain. And now they go
straying about, seeming like hungry wolves, ready to spring at and tear
to pieces anything that may chance in their way.

"There's an ugly look in their eyes, I don't like," said Seagriff, aside
to the Captain, "specially in some of the old women. Wi' them 'tair a
thing o' life or death when they get to starvation point, and that's
near now. One of 'em 'ud have to be sacrificed, ef not one of us. You
hear how they're cackling, wi' thar eyes all the time turning towards
us."

By this time the old men, with most of the women, have drawn together in
a clump, and are evidently holding council on some subject of general
interest--intense interest, too, as can be told by their earnest
speechifying, and the gesticulation that accompanies it. Without
comprehending a word that is said, Seagriff knows too well what they are
talking about; their gestures are too intelligible with the lurid glare
in their ghoul-like eyes. All that he sees portends a danger that he
shrinks from declaring to his companions. They will doubtless learn it
soon enough.

And now he hears words that are known to him,--"_ical-akinish_" and
"_shiloke_;" hears them repeated again and again. It is the black man,
"the doctor," who is doomed!

The negro himself appears to have a suspicion of it, as he is trembling
in every fibre of his frame. He need not fear dying, if the others are
to live. Rather than surrender him for such sacrifice, they will die
with him in his defence.

All are now convinced that the crisis, long apprehended, has come; and,
with their weapons in hand, stand ready to meet it. Still, the savages
appear to disagree, as the debate is prolonged. Can it be that, after
all, there is mercy in their breasts? Something like it surely stirs
Annaqua, who seems endeavouring to dissuade the others from carrying out
the purpose of which most are in favour. Perhaps the gifts bestowed on
him have won the old man's friendship; at all events, he appears to be
pleading delay. Ever and anon he points in the direction of the
cranberry ridge, as though urging them to wait for those gone after the
whale; and once he