dangers as trouts to flies on a warm day. The
Indians, however, were much too experienced warriors to be caught in
that way. They eased off their grip with great caution. Moreover
Magadar, having risen, and seeing how things were going, took off his
belt and made a running noose of it. He passed the loop deftly round
Cheenbuk's legs and drew it tight, while the others were still trying
vainly to compress his bull-neck.

The moment that Cheenbuk felt the noose tighten on his legs he knew that
it was all over with him. To run or fight with his legs tied would be
impossible, so, like a true philosopher, he submitted to the inevitable
and gave in. His captors, however, did not deem it wise or safe to
relax their hold until they had swathed his body with deerskin thongs;
then they removed the belt from his legs and assisted him to rise.

It is not the custom of Indians to indulge in much conversation with
vanquished foes. They usually confine their attentions to scowling,
torturing, and ultimately to killing and scalping them. The Dogribs who
had captured Cheenbuk could not speak the Eskimo tongue, and being
unaware of his linguistic powers, did not think it possible to speak to
him, but one of their number stood by him on guard while the others dug
a grave and buried the Indian whom he had slain.

We have already made reference to our young Eskimo's unusually advanced
views in regard to several matters that do not often--as far as we
know--exercise the aboriginal mind. While he stood there watching the
Indians, as they silently toiled at the grave, his thoughts ran somewhat
in the following groove:--

"Poor man! Sorry I killed him, but if I had not he would have killed
me--and then, perhaps, some of the women, for they had not got far away,
and I don't know how far the spouter can send its little arrows. I
wonder if they _are_ little. They must be surely, for I've never seen
one. Hoi! hoi! what fools men are to kill one another! How much better
to let each other alone! I have killed _him_, poor man! and they will
kill me. What then? The ice and snow will come and go all the same.
No one will be the better for it when we are gone. Some will surely be
the worse. Some wife or mother may have to rub her eyes for him. No
one will care much for _me_. But the walrus and the seal-hunt will not
be so big when I am gone. I wonder if the Maker of all cares for these
things! He must--else he would not have ma