, where a patch of green grass
was exposed despite a recent fall of snow--there a herd of musk oxen
grazed. He drew his bow of bone and sinew. One fell after the first
quiver of his arrow. His skill was marvellous. He had struck a vital
spot. He finished his killing of the fallen animal with a lance. He
feasted upon the raw meat, and carried away with him up to his eyrie
enough to last for many days.

The sun meanwhile sank lower and lower; there were long hours of
twilight; snow storms came; the cold increased. Ootah felt the first
whip of approaching winter. Ootah's spirit melted. Disquieting
messages came in the cold winds and darkening clouds. His heart beat
quickly at what the frightened birds told him. Olafaksoah, they said,
struck Annadoah. As she lay on the ground he kicked her. In the
snow-driven wind Ootah heard the echo of her heart-broken weeping. He
revoked the curses he had uttered; he cursed his own weakness whereby
he had invoked harm to her. Then in the winds Ootah heard the beat of
drums. In the clouds he saw the white men dancing with the Eskimo
maidens. Day after day they danced--day after day Annadoah wept.
Olafaksoah had become wearied. Disappointed in the failure to secure
greater supplies, he vented his impatience upon Annadoah. Cruelly he
bruised her little hands, he mocked and jeered her when she pleaded
with him. In fits of anger he often struck her. Finally, one day, in
the cloud phantasmagoria, Ootah saw Olafaksoah reeling from the strange
red-gold water the white men drank. He entered Annadoah's tent. She
crouched, terrified, in a corner. With him were three of his rough
blond companions. They staggered--and in the winds they sang.
Olafaksoah pointed consentingly to Annadoah. One of the men attempted
to embrace her. Then she rose defiantly and did what few Eskimo women
ever dared. She smote the man's leering face and, sobbing, sank on her
knees before Olafaksoah. He roared out things the Eskimos do not
understand. "_Goddlmighty_!" and more awful words. His fist
descended. In the winds Ootah heard Annadoah scream and call his name.

That day he descended from the mountains.

Much that Ootah conjured in his mind, or imagined he saw in the clouds,
really happened. Whether he actually sensed these things by some
wonderful power of clairvoyance, which the natives themselves
believe--or whether he just accurately guessed what occurred, I do not
know. But of