minute the Eskimo remained motionless, considering how best to
render his adversary insensible without killing him.

That minute cost him dear. Five of Alizay's comrades, led by Magadar,
came upon the scene, and, as it happened, Cheenbuk's back chanced to be
towards them. They did not dare to fire, for fear of hitting their
comrade, but they rushed unitedly forward with tomahawk and
scalping-knife ready.

"Take him alive," said Magadar.

Cheenbuk heard the voice. He disposed of poor Alizay by hurling him
away as if he had been a child, and was in the act of facing round when
Magadar threw his arms round his body and held him. To be seized thus
from behind is to most men a serious difficulty, but our Eskimo made
short work of his assailant. He bent forward with his head to the
ground so violently that the Indian was flung completely over him, and
fell flat on his back, in which position he remained motionless. But it
was impossible for Cheenbuk to cope with the other four Indians, who
flung themselves on him simultaneously, and seized him by arms, legs,
and throat.

Of course they could have brained or stabbed him easily, but,
remembering their chief's order to take the man alive, they sought to
quell him by sheer force. Stout and sinewy though the four braves were,
they had their hands full during a good many minutes, for the Eskimo's
muscles were tougher and harder than india-rubber; his sinews resembled
whip-cord, and his bones bars of iron. So completely was he overwhelmed
by the men who held him down, that little or nothing of him could be
seen, yet ever and anon, as he struggled, the four men seemed to be
heaved upward by a small earthquake.

Alizay, who had risen, stood looking calmly on, but rendered no
assistance, first, because there was no room for him to act, and second,
because his left wrist had been almost broken by the violence of the
throw that he had received. As for Magadar, he was only beginning to
recover consciousness, and to wonder where he was!

Suddenly Cheenbuk ceased to strive. He was a crafty Eskimo, and a
thought had occurred to him. He would sham exhaustion, and, when his
foes relaxed their grip, would burst away from them. He knew it was a
forlorn hope, for he was well aware that, even if he should succeed in
getting away, the spouters would send messengers to arrest him before he
had run far. But Cheenbuk was just the man for a forlorn hope. He rose
to difficulties and