Marian took their places back a little in the shadows, where
they could not be seen but could still watch the wild antics of their
strange visitors.

"What does it mean?" whispered Marian.

"I can't even guess," Lucile whispered back. "Something terrible
though, I am sure."

By this time the entire group were circling the house, and their wild
shrill cadent song rose high and loud:

"Ki--yi--yi--um--Ah! Ah! Ah! I--I--I!"

The single dancer tore his hair again and again, and repeated his mad
gesticulations.

Only one figure stood back impassive--not singing and not taking any
part in the weird demonstration.

Suddenly, at a sign from the wild-haired leader, all the singing
ceased. He uttered a few words apparently of command, then waved his
scrawny arms toward the house.

A wild shout rent the air. All the natives, save the impassive one,
sprang to their feet and started toward their village. But now the
impassive one leaped up and tried to check them, to drive them back.
As well attempt to stop a torrent with the open hand. They pushed him
aside and hurried on.

The next moment the girls heard a pounding at the door, but dared not
open it.

"What does it mean? What _can_ it mean?" They kept asking one another.

Presently the mad group came racing back. Some bore on their shoulders
poles and boards hastily torn from their caches. Two others were
staggering under a load which appeared to be a sealskin filled with
some liquid.

"Seal-oil!" said Lucile. "What--" and then the full meaning of it came
to her like a flash. "Marian!" she said in an almost inaudible
whisper, "they mean to burn the cabin. That's what the wood and oil
are for--to start the fire!"

The words were hardly out of her mouth when Marian gripped her arm.
"Look!" she cried.

A dense black smoke was rolling past the window.

Roused by her cry, the crippled Eskimo boy sprang upon his one well
foot and came hopping toward them.

One look at the smoke, at the madly dancing old man, and he hopped for
the door. Throwing the pole to the floor, he hopped outside and away.

"He's gone! Deserted us!"

"What does it matter now?" Lucile covered her face with her hands.

"But look!" cried Marian.

The boy had hopped out into the howling, dancing circle. The howling
had ceased. He had tumbled to a sitting position on the snow, but was
speaking and motioning with his hands. Once he pointed at his bandaged
foot. Twice he pu