rn skies perchance write, in
irid traceries of fire, mystic messages of hope which none, of all
humanity, during all the centuries, has ever learned entirely to
understand.

Not until the wonder lights were fading did the tribesmen take up the
precious bear meat, and according to Ootah's instructions divide
portions among the community. His arm full of meat, Ootah joyously
entered Annadoah's igloo.

Annadoah, sad and lonely, sat by her lamp. Her igloo was like that of
all the others. Inside, so as to retain the heat and carry off the
water which dripped from the melting dome of snow, there was an
interior tent of seal skin. In a great pan of soapstone was a line of
moss, which absorbed the walrus fat, and served as a wick for the lamp.
This emitted a line of thin, reddish blue flame. Over the light, and
supported by a framework, was a large soapstone pot in which bits of
walrus meat were simmering. By the side of the pot a large piece of
walrus blubber hung over a rod. In the heat of the lamp this slowly
exuded a thick oil which, falling into the pan below and saturating the
moss wick, gave a constant and steady supply of fuel.

Like the other women, Annadoah sat by her lamp day after day. When she
could endure hunger no longer she would eat ravenously of the meagre
food in the pot. Regular meals are unknown in the arctic--a native
abstains from food as long as he can in days of famine, but when he
eats he eats unstintedly.

As Ootah entered the low enclosure Annadoah's eyes lighted.

Ootah told her of the bear encounter, and, with the joy of children,
they placed bits of the meat in the pot and sat by, delightedly
inhaling the odor as it cooked.

Several days later, while they were eating the last remainder of the
meat, both heard an uproar outside. They crept from the igloo and
discovered most of the village assembled without.

"Attalaq hath carried off Ahningnetty," one told them.

"He broke into her father's house and seized her with violence!"

Not far away they heard Ahningnetty's screams.

"Attalaq is strong," said one.

"Yea, as a boy did he not kill his brother?" All remembered the brutal
encounter of the two brothers years before, when, throwing him to the
ground, Attalaq jumped on his brother's body and striking his head with
stones beat him to death. Attalaq was a type of the older warriors;
unlike his more gentle tribesmen he possessed the atavistic savagery of
his forebears of cen