nother.

And they were right. A vessel of the pale-faces had penetrated these
northern solitudes, and was advancing swiftly before a light breeze
under sail and steam.

Despite the preparation their minds had received, and the fact that they
were out in search of these very people, this sudden appearance of them
filled most of the Eskimos with alarm--some of them with absolute
terror, insomuch that the term "pale-face" became most appropriate to
themselves.

"What shall we do?" exclaimed Akeetolik, one of the men.

"Fly!" cried Ivitchuk, another of the men, whose natural courage was not
high.

"No; let us stay and behold!" said Oolichuk, with a look of contempt at
his timid comrade.

"Yes, stay and see," said Eemerk sternly.

"But they will kill us," faltered the young woman, whom we have already
mentioned by the name of Tekkona.

"No--no one would kill _you_," said Eemerk gallantly; "they would only
carry you off and keep you."

While they conversed with eager, anxious looks, the steam yacht--for
such she was--advanced rapidly, threading her way among the ice-fields
and floes with graceful rapidity and ease, to the unutterable amazement
of the natives. Although her sails were spread to catch the light
breeze, her chief motive power at the time was a screw-propeller.

"Yes, it must be alive," said Oolichuk to Akeetolik, with a look of
solemn awe. "The white men do not paddle. They could not lift paddles
big enough to move such a great oomiak," [see Note 1], "and the wind is
not strong; it could not blow them so fast. See, the oomiak has a
tail--and wags it!"

"Oh! _do_ let us run away!" whispered the trembling Oblooria, as she
took shelter behind Tekkona.

"No, no," said the latter, who was brave as well as pretty, "we need not
fear. Our men will take care of us."

"I wish that Chingatok was here!" whimpered poor little Oblooria,
nestling closer to Tekkona and grasping her tail, "he fears nothing and
nobody."

"Ay," assented Tekkona with a peculiar smile, "and is brave enough to
fight everything and everybody."

"Does Oblooria think that no one can fight but the giant?" whispered
Oolichuk, who stood nearest to the little maid.

He drew a knife made of bone from his boot, where it usually lay
concealed, and flourished it, with a broad grin. The girl laughed,
blushed slightly, and, looking down, toyed with the sleeve of Tekkona's
fur coat.

Meanwhile the yacht drew near to the floe on which