rly she
was judging the situation by the movement of his lips and the sound of
his voice. With him unafraid she would be unafraid. He judged that
quickly. Her eyes bared her faith in him, and suddenly he reached out
and took her face between his two hands, and laughed softly, while each
instant he feared the smash of a javelin through the window. "I like to
see that look in your eyes," he went on. "And I'm almost glad you can't
understand me, for I couldn't lie to you worth a cent. I understand
those pictures now--and I think we're in a hell of a fix. The Eskimos
have followed you and Bram down from the north, and I'm laying a wager
with myself that Bram won't return from the caribou hunt. If they were
Nunatalmutes or any other tribe I wouldn't be so sure. But they're
Kogmollocks. They're worse than the little brown head-hunters of the
Philippines when it comes to ambush, and if Bram hasn't got a spear
through him this minute I'll never guess again!" He withdrew his hands
from her face, still smiling at her as he talked. The color was
returning into her face. Suddenly she made a movement as if to approach
the window. He detained her, and in the same moment there came a fierce
and snarling outcry from the wolves in the corral. Making Celie
understand that she was to remain where he almost forcibly placed her
near the table, Philip went again to the window. The pack had gathered
close to the gate and two or three of the wolves were leaping excitedly
against the sapling bars of their prison. Between the cabin and the
gate a second body lay in the snow. Philip's mind leapt to a swift
conclusion. The Eskimos had ambushed Bram, and they believed that only
the girl was in the cabin. Intuitively he guessed how the superstitious
little brown men of the north feared the madman's wolves. One by one
they were picking them off with their javelins from outside the corral.

As he looked a head and pair of shoulders rose suddenly above the top
of the sapling barrier, an arm shot out and he caught the swift gleam
of a javelin as it buried itself in the thick of the pack. In a flash
the head and shoulders of the javelin-thrower had disappeared, and in
that same moment Philip heard a low cry behind him. Celie had returned
to the window. She had seen what he had seen, and her breath came
suddenly in a swift and sobbing excitement. In amazement he saw that
she was no longer pale. A vivid flush had gathered in each of her
cheeks and her eyes