lamps with
oil, and arranged them solicitously in positions where they would give
most heat. He placed supplies in the house, and buried the rest
outside so that Annadoah might readily reach them. Meanwhile Annadoah
sat alone in her tent, her sad face buried in her hands, "her shadow
yearning toward the south." Many of the tribe, emerging from their
igloos, had paused to taunt Ootah at his labors.

"A-ha--a-ha!" they laughed. "Thinkest thou that Annadoah will let thee
share her igloo when the snow closes in?" They laughed again. Ootah
seriously shook his head.

"I would that Annadoah be protected from the storm," he said simply.

"A-ha--ha! No man buildeth a house wherein he may not have shelter; no
man layeth a bed of soft moss whereon he doth not expect to lie. Idiot
Ootah, as well mayest thou expect the willows to sprout in the long
night--Annadoah thinketh naught of thee. Why seekest thou not a
sensible maiden?"

"He hath given Annadoah half of his meat and fuel," the women murmured
complainingly among themselves.

"He hath given her his skins; he hath thieved upon himself."

"Why hath he not taken another to wife? Verily men are few; women are
many. And all gaze favorably upon Ootah."

"Yea, his arm is strong."

"There is courage in his heart."

"He feareth not the night."

"He should press his face upon the face of one who is fair; his wife
should bear children."

When Annadoah passed from her tent into her new home the women scolded
her bitterly. The men goodnaturedly jeered Ootah. Annadoah huddled
near Ootah and gazed gratefully into his eyes. In the thought that he
was there to protect her the heart of Ootah pulsed with joy.
Annadoah's heart was cold. Annadoah sat inside the new little house of
snow, the oil lights flickering fitfully. In the dancing shadows
Annadoah saw the semblance of the form of the blond chief. Joylessly
Ootah built his own home.

And in their houses, in celebration of the fall of night, the natives
continued their grotesque dances. Beating membrane drums, and singing
jerky chants, they danced frenziedly, forcing a false hilarity. They
felt the overwhelming approach of the dread spectre of famine. In
their dances some sobbed, others passed into uncontrollable hysteria.

Ootah alone did not indulge in the fierce ceremonies. His own igloo
built, day after day, night after night, he sat alone. His heart ached
with the unrequited and eternal desire of all