s they brushed her lashed
body--then she felt the quick gasps of their breath; she sensed the
strain of Ootah's limbs twisting in the struggle.

Again she perceived the two shifting away and being merged into the
swimming blackness. Presently she saw only the phosphorescent crest of
a mountainous wave . . . rising in the distance . . . She became cold
with white fear--she felt her blood turn to ice . . . She screamed and
struggled vainly with the lashings . . . She felt the floe rise, felt
herself being steadily lifted into the sheer air, and of paralyzed
fright again swooned.

Maisanguaq, by a fierce wrench, managed to release one hand, struck
Ootah a heavy blow and broke away. Leaping to the opposite side of the
sledge, with a terrific pull, he drew one of the harpoons out of the
ice and with his knife speedily cut it loose from the lashings. Ootah,
stunned for a moment, turned upon him. Maisanguaq desperately raised
the weapon. Ootah heard it hiss through the air. He reeled
backward--the harpoon grazed his arm and struck the ice.

At that very instant the oncoming breaker descended with a rush from
behind--a torrent of water washed the floe. Ootah was lifted from his
feet and dashed against the sled. When he rose he waited in silence
for an attack. There was none. He moved over the floe cautiously,
feeling the darkness. Creeping to the edge he saw something dimly
white and blurred on the receding wave. "Maisanguaq," he called,
softly. There was a pang at his heart, for he was truly gentle. He
strained his ears to hear through the din of the elements. The floe
suddenly jolted him as it was carried, with a thud, against
shore-clinging ice. Ootah peered seaward, and called again, loudly--

"Maisanguaq!"

Only the waves replied.

Hurriedly he cut the leather lashings and, leaping from floe to floe,
carried Annadoah to the shelter of the shore. Returning he loosened
the dogs. Only three lived. Biding his time until the floe was ground
securely among others, he then dragged his load of meat ashore.
Sinking to the earth he rubbed Annadoah's hands and breathed with eager
and enraptured transport into her face.

He called her name. Presently she stirred.

"Ootah," she murmured. "It is very dark--very dark--I wonder . . .
whether . . . it will soon . . . be spring."

He chafed her hands. For a lucid moment she nestled to him and in a
terrified voice whispered----

"Maisanguaq--where is he?