of Greenland
now came a series of swift explosions, and in the brief succeeding
interval there was an unearthly silence. Then a grinding crash rent
the air. The spirits of the mountains had engaged in combat. And in
the swift downward surge of the glacial avalanches Annadoah saw tribes
wiped from existence and villages swept into the sun-litten sea. But
Annadoah knew that the sun-litten sea was a treacherous sea; she knew
that _Koyokah_, whose face in the mist was wan, whose lips were golden,
had no love for men, and she knew that the spirits of the air, who
moved in the diversely soaring clouds, were engaged in some fell
conspiracy against her helpless race.

A vague realization of the impotence of humanity against fate, against
the forces that weave the loom of life within and without one's heart,
weighed crushingly upon her.

Radiant indeed was the sky and softly molten golden the glorious sea,
but yet, grim and grisly, behind this smiling face of nature, Annadoah,
primitive child of the human race, shudderingly felt the malevolent and
evil eyes of _Perdlugssuaq_, the spirit of great evil, he who brings
sickness and death. Annadoah felt that instinctive fear which humanity
has felt from the beginning--the superstitious terror of tribes who
confront extinction, in the face of famine; the quiet white tremor of
the hard working hordes of modern cities in the face of poverty and
starvation; the dread of savage and civilized races alike of the
incomprehensible factor in the universe which wreaks destruction, that
original and ultimate evil which all the world's religions recognize,
interpret, and offer to placate--the force that is hostile to man and
the happiness of man.

On the smooth tossing waters, reflecting the glory of the sky, there
was no sign of those who had perished.

Then, after the first crushing sense of helplessness, an instinctive,
insurgent hope that would not be defeated asserted itself. Annadoah
called upon _Nerrvik_, for surely _Nerrvik_ was kind to men. She
pleaded with _Kokoyah_. She importuned the spirits of the sea and air
to return her beloved ones to her.

"_Nerrvik_! _Nerrvik_!" Annadoah supplicated persuasively, "gentle
spirit of the sea, lift Ootah unto me! Thou who art kind to man and
givest him fishes from the deep for food, give unto Annadoah's arms
Little Blind Spring Bunting."

She swayed her frail body to and fro, and in a tremulous, plaintive
chant told unto the gentl