r reluctantly moved out from his
fellows.

"We shall want as many as seven or eight of them," remarked Wade.

"Form a ring around this one, then, while I get out another," said
Kit.

But the second one backed off as Kit approached him, gesticulating,
and shouting, "_Na-mick, na-mick!_" and, on Kit's laying his hand on
his shoulder, he let out a "straight left" with considerable _vim_.

"Donovan," said Kit, "take hold of him!"

Don made a rush, and, clutching one hand into his hair, shook him
about, tripped him up, and held the point of the butcher-knife at his
throat. The savage howled and begged. With a single effort Donovan set
him on his feet, and thrust him into the ring. The third, fourth, and
fifth man came out at a mere tap on the shoulder. But the sixth--a
little dark fellow--jumped back when Kit stepped up to him, and struck
with a rough dagger-shaped weapon made of a walrus-tusk. Indeed, it
was a wonder he had not stabbed him; for the movement was remarkably
quick and cat-like. Donovan sprang forward; but Kit caught his arm,
and dealt him a blow with his fist that sent him reeling to the
ground. Don seized him by the collar of his bear-skin smock, and,
with a twitch and a kick, sent him spinning into the ring. Several of
the remaining men had run to their tents, and now re-appeared with
harpoons in their hands. Kit took his musket, and, walking up to one
of them, struck the dart out of his hand with a tweak of the bayonet,
and then walked him along to the ring.

"I guess seven will be enough," said Wade.

"Well, keep round them," replied Kit. "Don't let 'em get away from us.
Ready! Forward, march!"

We turned to go down to the _oomiak_, and had proceeded a few steps,
when some of the savages about the huts suddenly shouted "_Ka-ka,
ka-ka!_" In an instant their dogs, which had been growling and
prowling about all the time, rushed after us, barking madly. Guard was
a little behind us. They set upon him like hungry wolves. Such a
barking and snarling! Kit and Wade, who formed the rear-guard, ran to
the rescue. Wade laid on them with the butt of his musket; while Kit,
with his bayonet, gave several of the gaunt, wolfish curs thrusts
which speedily changed their growls to yelps of agony. The savages
cried out dismally. Exclamations of "_Mickee!_" "_Arkut mickee!_"
"_Parut mickee!_" besought us not to kill them. They had set them on
to us, nevertheless. The dog riot suppressed, we moved on down to the
sho