he latter dark days a terrible calamity had made itself felt
among the tribe. This was the death of many of the newly born.
Outside the igloos during the past months, as the babies had come, the
number of tiny mounds had increased, and when the aurora flooded the
skies heart-broken mothers could be seen weeping over these graves of
snow. It is not uncommon in this land for babies to die at birth or
come prematurely; but the number of recent deaths and tragic accidents
to expectant mothers was unprecedented. This was undoubtedly due to
the depleted vitality of the starving mothers--but to the natives there
was some other, some unaccountable, some sinister, cause. In their
hearts they experienced, each time a new mound rose white in the
moonlight, that tremulous terror of a people who instinctively fear
extinction. The grief of a mother was for a personal loss; to the
tribe each death meant an even greater, more significant loss, a thing
of more than personal consequence.

And when, out of the dim regions of her brain, one of the women now
conjured the terrible thing which she whispered concerning Annadoah, it
was little wonder the other two regarded the girl as a thing hateful
and accursed.

"_She stealeth souls!_"

Nothing more frightful could have been said.

"Yea, the night my baby died I heard her voice," repeated Inetlia
angrily.

And the other, among the superstitious voices in her memory, found it
not difficult to recall a similar thing:

"Methinks I heard her sing the night my own little one came--too soon."

And the third whispered:

"She is as the hungry hill spirit who feasts upon the entrails of the
dead. Yea, she carrieth off the souls of the children. _Ioh_!
_Iooh_!"

Their voices rose in a maniacal cry of terror and denunciation.

Annadoah rose. Clasping her hands, she demanded piteously:

"Why . . . sayest ye this of me?"

And they shrieked:

"Thou stealest souls! By the _angakoq_ shalt thou be accursed!"

"No, no! No, no!" the girl pleaded, falling on her knees and weeping.

Although they suddenly ceased their reviling, hearing outside the
barking of dogs, the women thereafter in secret often assembled
together; there were ominous whisperings; and each time a child died
visits were paid to the _angakoq_, and the unseen powers were invoked
to bring misfortune to Annadoah.

Outside the silenced women detected the barking of dogs approaching the
village from the distance. The