de us and put us here! Did
he make us to fight each other? Surely not. Even I would not shape my
spear to destroy my kayak--and he must be wiser than me. Yet he never
speaks or shows himself. If I had a little child, would I treat it so?
No--I must be wrong, and he must be right. Speech is not always with
the tongue. Now it comes to my mind that we speak with the eyes when we
look fierce or pleased. Perhaps he whispers to me inside, sometimes,
and I have not yet learned to understand him."

Cheenbuk had now dropped into one of his frequent reveries, or trains of
thought, in which he was apt to forget all that was going on around him,
and he did not waken from it until, the burial being concluded, one of
the Indians touched him on the shoulder and pointed to Magadar, who had
shouldered his gun and was entering the bushes.

Understanding this to be a command to follow, he stepped out at once.
The others fell into line behind him, and thus, bound and a captive, our
Eskimo turned his back finally--as he believed--on what we may style his
native home--the great, mysterious northern sea.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

FLIGHT AND MISFORTUNE.

While the scene we have described was being enacted, the other Indians,
who had crossed the neck of land for the purpose of cutting off the men
in the kayaks, failed in the attempt, partly owing to the distance being
greater than their memories had assigned to it, and partly to the great
speed of the kayaks when propelled by strong men fleeing for their
lives.

All the kayaks were well out of gunshot range when the shore was
reached, except one which lagged behind. At this one the Indians
discharged several volleys, but without effect, and soon after, it also
was beyond range.

The little vessel which thus lagged behind belonged to the unfortunate
Gartok, whose leg, it will be remembered, was wounded by one of the
balls discharged by Alizay. Despite his energy, and desperate though
the situation was, Gartok could not overcome the depressing influence of
pain and haemorrhage. He fell gradually behind the others, each of whom
was too anxious about his own safety to think much of his comrades.

When the firing ceased and the flotilla was well out of range, Gartok
laid down his paddle and bound up his wounded limb with some scraps of
seal-skin; at the same time, hailing the kayak nearest to him. As soon
as it was discovered that their chief was wounded, all the Eskimos came
cluste