ent interest
while Oolalik concluded his remarks.

The effect of this belligerent episode was to advance the cause of the
peace-party considerably--at least for a time--and when the meeting
broke up, most of the people returned to their various homes with a firm
determination to leave the poor Fire-spouters alone.

But Gartok, who was still smarting under the disgrace to which he had
been subjected at the hands of Oolalik, managed to rekindle and blow up
the war-spirit, so that, two days later, a strong party of the more
pugnacious among the young men of the tribe set off in their kayaks for
the Whale River, taking with them a few of the women in one of their
open boats or oomiaks--chiefly for the purpose of keeping their garments
in repair.

CHAPTER FOUR.

WAR PREVAILS.

It would seem, at times, as if there were really some sort of spiritual
communication between people whose physical frames are widely sundered.

For at the very time that the Eskimos, in their remote home on the
ice-encumbered sea, were informally debating the propriety of making an
unprovoked attack on the Dogrib Indians--whom they facetiously styled
Fire-spouters--the red men were also holding a very formal and solemn
council of war as to the advisability of making an assault on those
presumptuous Eskimos, or eaters-of-raw-flesh, who ventured to pay an
uncalled-for visit to the Greygoose River--their ancestral property--
every spring.

One of their chiefs, named Nazinred, had just returned from a visit to
the river, and reported having met and fought with one of the Eskimos.

Immediately on hearing this, the old or head chief summoned the council
of war. The braves assembled in the council-tent in solemn dignity,
each classically enveloped in his blanket or leathern robe, and
inflated, more or less, with his own importance. They sat down silently
round the council fire with as much gravity as if the fate of nations
depended on their deliberations,--and so, on a small scale, it did.

After passing round the pipe--by way of brightening up their
intellects--the old chief held forth his hand and began in a low voice
and deliberate manner.

"My braves," said he, "those filthy eaters-of-raw-flesh have, as you
know, been in the habit of coming to Greygoose River every spring and
trespassing on the borders of our hunting-grounds."

He paused and looked round.

"Waugh!" exclaimed his audience, in order to satisfy him.

With a dark frown