out when his brother's kayak shot past him, and Ermigit sent a
spear deep into the vitals of the seal--so deep, indeed, that it turned
over and died without a groan.

By that time Norrak was in the water, but he made a vigorous grasp at
his brother's kayak with one hand, while with the other he clutched the
line of the harpoon--for well did he know that dead seals sink, and that
if it went down it would perhaps carry the bladder along with it, and so
be lost.

"Give me the line, brother," said Ermigit, extending a hand.

"No. I can hold it. You make for shore--quick." Ermigit plied his
paddle with a will, and in a few minutes reached the shore with Norrak,
bladder, line, and seal like a huge tail behind him.

Need we say that they were received by their friends, as well as by the
strange Eskimos, with enthusiasm? We think not. Neither is it
necessary to comment on the enjoyment they found that night in a supper
of fresh meat, and in fighting the battle, as well as a good many other
battles, over again. But in the midst of it all there was a cloud on
the brows of Angut, Simek, and Okiok, for their anxiety about the fate
of Nunaga, Pussi, and Tumbler was intense.

Angut was particularly restless during the night, and got up several
times to take a look at the weather, as Rooney expressed it.

On one of these occasions he found the Kablunet standing by the shore of
the calm sea.

"I don't like the look o' things," said Rooney, giving a sailor-like
glance at the horizon and the sky. "It seems to me as if we were goin'
to have dirty weather."

Instead of replying to this remark, the Eskimo looked earnestly at his
friend, and asked--

"Can Ridroonee tell me why the Great Spirit allows men to do evil?"

"No, Angut, no. That is beyond my knowledge. Indeed I remember puttin'
the same question, or somethin' like it, to a learned man in my country,
and he said it is beyond the knowledge of the wisest men that have ever
lived--so it's no wonder that it's beyond you and me."

"But the Great Spirit is good," said Angut, rather as if he were
soliloquising than addressing his friend.

"Yes; He is good--_must_ be good," returned the sailor; "it cannot be
otherwise."

"Then why does evil exist?" asked Angut quickly. "Why did He make evil?
You have told me He made everything."

"So He did, but evil is not a _thing_. It is a state of being, so to
speak."

"It is a great mystery," said Angut.

"It would be a