e. Disappointment did not visibly depress, nor did success unduly
elate him. The loss of the whale failed to disturb the placid look of
grave contentment which sat on his good-looking countenance.

For it must be noted here that Cheenbuk was a handsome savage--if,
indeed, we are entitled to style him a savage at all. His features were
good, and strongly marked. His young beard and moustache were black,
though not bushy. His dark eyes were large and full of tenderness,
which expression, by an almost imperceptible raising of eyelid and
contraction of brow, was easily transmuted into a gaze of ferocity or
indignation. His bulky frame was clothed in the seal-skin garb peculiar
to his people; his hair was straight, voluminous, and unkempt, and his
motions gave indication of great strength combined with agility.

And no wonder, for a large part of our young Eskimo's life had been
spent in battling with the forces of Nature, and the hardships of life
as displayed in the Arctic regions--to say nothing of frequent conflicts
with the seal, the walrus and the polar bear.

Running his kayak among the rushes of a small inlet, Cheenbuk stepped
out of the hole in its centre into the stream. The water was
ankle-deep, but the youth suffered no discomfort, for he wore what may
be styled home-made waterproof boots reaching to above the knees. These
had been invented by his forefathers, no doubt, in the remote ages of
antiquity--at all events, long before india-rubber had been discovered
or Macintosh was born.

Drawing his little craft out of the water, the young man took some food
from its interior, and was about to begin his truly simple meal by
eating it raw, when a distant sound arrested his hand on the way to his
mouth. He turned his head slightly on one side and remained for some
moments like a singularly attentive statue.

Presently the voice of a wild-goose was faintly heard in the far
distance. Evidently the young Eskimo desired a change of fare, for he
laid down the slice of raw seal, on which he had been about to regale
himself, and disengaged a long slender spear from the bow of his kayak.

It is well-known that wild-geese will, with proverbial stupidity, answer
to an imitation of their cry, particularly in spring. Indeed, they will
answer to a very bad imitation of it, insomuch that the poorest
counterfeit will turn them out of their course and attract them towards
the crier.

Availing himself of this weaknes