let ribbon.

"Saw you ever a beast so _very_ red?" said the wife of Okiok doubtfully.

"It is no beast," remarked the mother of Ippegoo; "it is only a bit of
sealskin dyed red."

"No sealskin ever fluttered like that," said the mother of Arbalik
sternly. "It is something new and beautiful that some one has lost. We
are lucky. Let us go and take it."

No one objecting to this, the oomiak was paddled towards the land.
Nunaga observed that the sisters Kabelaw and Sigokow were each eager to
spring ashore before the other and snatch the prize. Having a spice of
mischievous fun in her she resolved to be beforehand, and, being active
as a kitten, while the sisters were only what we may style lumberingly
vigorous, she succeeded.

Before the boat quite touched the gravel, she had sprung on shore, and
flew towards the coveted streamer. The sisters did not attempt to
follow. Knowing that it would be useless, they sat still and the other
women laughed.

At the success of his little device the robber-lieutenant of Grimlek
chuckled quietly, as he crouched behind that bush. When Nunaga laid her
hand on the gaudy bait he sprang up, grasped her round the waist, and
bore her off into the bushes. At the same moment the rest of the band
made a rush at the oomiak. With a yell in unison, the women shoved
off--only just in time, for the leading robber dashed into the sea
nearly up to the neck, and his outstretched hand was within a foot of
the gunwale when he received a smart rap over the knuckles from Sigokow.
Another moment, and the oomiak was beyond his reach.

Alas for old Kannoa! She had been seated on the gunwale of the craft,
and the vigorous push that set the others free had toppled her over
backwards into the sea. As this happened in shallow water, the poor old
creature had no difficulty in creeping on to the beach. The incident
would have tried the nerves of most old ladies, but Kannoa had no
nerves; and in regard to being wet--well, she was naturally tough and
accustomed to rough it.

The disappointed robber observed her, of course, on wading back to land,
but passed her with contemptuous indifference, as if she had been merely
an over-grown crab or lobster. But Kannoa determined not to be left to
die on the shore. She rose, squeezed the water out of her garments and
followed the robber, whom she soon found in the bushes with his
companions eagerly discussing their future plans. Nunaga was seated on
the gro