not follow, for he feared the grave,
thoughtful man, in spite of his determination to regard and treat him
with lofty disdain.

Utterly ignorant of the wizard's feelings towards him--for he was slow
to observe or believe in ill-will towards himself when he felt none to
any one else--Angut set off alone next morning in the direction that led
to the great glacier, while his countrymen harnessed their dogs, loaded
their sledges with lines and weapons, and went away southward on a
hunting expedition. Wishing the latter all success, we will follow the
fortunes of Angut, the eccentric angekok.

Had you and I, reader, been obliged to follow him in the body, we should
soon have been left far behind; fortunately, spirit is more powerful and
fleet than matter!

Without rest or halt, the stalwart Eskimo journeyed over the ice until
he reached the residence of Okiok.

The dogs knew his step well, and gave no noisy sign of his approach,
though they rose to welcome him with wagging tails, and rubbed their
noses against his fur coat as he patted their heads.

Creeping into the hut, he presented himself unexpectedly. Okiok bade
him silent welcome, with a broad grin of satisfaction. Nunaga did the
same, with a pleased smile and a decided blush. The other inmates of
the hut showed similar friendship, and Tumbler, trying to look up, fell
over into an oil-puddle, with a loud crow of joy. They all then gazed
suddenly and simultaneously, with mysterious meaning, at Red Rooney, who
lay coiled up, and apparently sound asleep, in the innermost corner.

Angut also gazed with intense interest, though nothing of the sleeping
man was visible save the point of his nose and a mass of curling brown
hair protruding from his deerskin coverings.

Seating himself quietly between Nunaga and Nuna, and taking the oily
Tumbler on his knee, the visitor entered into a low-toned conversation
respecting this great event of their lives--the arrival of a real live
Kablunet! They also talked of Kablunets in general, and their reported
ways and manners. It is to be noted here that they did not talk in
whispers. Okiok and Nuna had indeed begun the conversation thus, but
had been immediately checked by Angut, whose intelligence had long ago
taught him that no sound is so apt to awaken a sleeper as the hiss of a
whisper; and that a steady, low-toned hum of conversation is more fitted
to deepen than interrupt slumber.

"Is he _very_ thin?" asked Angut, w