k change the air
became colder and snow flakes fell. The natives became alarmed. As
they were drawing the first walrus to the ice a sound, like the
discharge of a gun beneath the sea, startled them. Seizing their
knives they dexterously fell upon the animal and lifted the meat and
blubber in long slices from the bones. A great quantity was cast to
the ravenous dogs. Two more walrus were lumberingly drawn to the ice;
the first sledge load and two hunters started shoreward; soon the
second sledge was loaded. Ootah and Maisanguaq remained to dress the
third beast.
Like scorpions in the hands of the mighty _tornarssuit_ the wind now
steadily beat upon the ice. The two men were almost lifted from their
feet. Not far away they heard the tumultuous crash of the rising
waves. As they were lashing the blubber to Ootah's sledge, a
resounding detonation vibrated through the ice under him--the field on
which they stood slowly but unmistakably began to move!
Maisanguaq spoke. The wind drowned his voice. Above its clamor they
heard the ice separating with the splitting sound of artillery.
Whipped by the terrific gale the snow cut their faces like bits of
steel. In the darkness, which steadily thickened, they heard the
appalling boom of bergs and the grind of floes colliding on the sea.
Ootah leaped to the team of dogs and interrupted their feast. He knew
they had not a single moment to lose--the field had surely parted from
the land ice and it was now a dreadful question as to whether a return
was possible. As he was hitching the dogs to the loaded sledge he
suddenly gave a start. Was he dreaming? Was he hearing the
disembodied speak, as men did in dreams? He listened intently--surely
he heard a soft sweet voice calling piteously through the wind. His
heart gave a great thud.
Through the gathering gloom he saw something . . . a blur of
blackness . . . gathering substance as it approached over the ice. It
moved uncertainly . . . and seemed to be driven toward him by the
furious wind.
"Look--who is it?" he called to Maisanguaq.
For answer, through the din of the elements, a voice called brokenly,
sobbingly:
"Ootah! . . . Ootah!"
Ootah leaped to his feet. Out of the snow-driven blackness a frail
figure staggered toward him.
"Annadoah," Ootah murmured, seizing the trembling woman in his arms.
She seemed about to faint.
"Why hast thou come hither?" He hugged her fiercely to his bosom. He
fel
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