before related, made up their minds to discard
the cooking-lamp and indulge in the luxury of a wood fire, they sent one
of their number into the bush to gather sticks. The one selected for
this duty was Rinka, she being active and willing, besides being
intelligent, which last was a matter of importance in one totally
unaccustomed to traversing the pathless woods.

The girl obeyed orders at once, and soon had collected a large armful of
dried branches, with which she prepared to return to the encampment.
But when she looked up at the small trees by which she was surrounded,
she felt considerably puzzled as to the direction in which she ought to
walk. Of course, remembering that her back had been toward the sea when
she set out, nothing seemed simpler than to turn round with her face
towards it and proceed. But she had not done this for many minutes,
when it occurred to her that she must have turned about more or less,
several times, during her outward journey. This brought her to an
abrupt halt. She looked up and around several times, and then, feeling
quite sure that the shore must lie in a certain direction pointed out by
Hope, set off in that direction at a good round pace. As the wood
seemed to get thicker, however, she concluded that she was wrong, and
changed direction again. Still the undergrowth became more dense, and
then, suddenly coming to the conclusion that she was lost, she stood
stock-still and dropped her bundle of sticks in dismay.

For a few moments she was stunned, as if her position were unbelievable.
Then she became horrified and shouted to her companions, but her
feeble, unassertive voice was unable to travel far, and drew forth no
response. Indeed, she had wandered so far into the forest that, even if
possessed of a man's voice, she might have failed to attract the
attention of the women. Then the sound of distant firing began to
salute her ears, and in an agony of anxiety she ran hither and thither
almost blindly.

But there were other ears besides those of Rinka which were startled by
the guns.

Sitting under a tree--all ignorant of the presence of his brethren or of
the warlike Indians--Cheenbuk was regaling himself on the carcass of a
fat willow-grouse which he had speared a little before the firing began.

Our Eskimo was making for the coast where he had left his kayak, and had
halted for a feed. The sport in the woods, after its novelty wore off,
had lost interest for one whos