pbraid her.
Tremblingly, with a last lingering hope, she crept on her knees to the
edge of the lane of lapping black water. She whispered a pathetic plea
to _Nerrvik_, the gentle queen of the sea, whose hand had been severed
by those she loved, and who felt great tenderness for men. Annadoah
listened.

"Thou art cold of heart to him who loves thee, Annadoah," a voice
seemed to whisper in the lapping waves. "Thou art beautiful as the
sun, but as _Sukh-eh-nukh_ shall thou be eternally sad. Thou shalt
lose because of thine own self the greatest of all treasures. That is
fate."

Far out on the open ocean spectral fire-flecks flashed like mast-lights
on swinging ships. These mysterious jack o' lanterns of the arctic are
caused by the crashing together of icebergs covered with phosphorescent
algae.

To Annadoah the dead were lighting their oil lamps for the long night.
As she watched the weird illuminations a paralyzing fear of the vague
unknown world beyond the gate of death filled her, and her blood ran
cold. She felt utterly crushed, utterly helpless, and utterly
deserted, both in the affection of the living and that of the dead.
She uttered a despairing cry and fell back in a cold faint. The women
drew about as if to leap upon her.

A momentary wavering of the northern lights revealed her face grown sad
and wan. The women stood still, however, for approaching in the
distance they heard a man's voice calling:

"Avatarpay--avatarpay,
akorgani--akorgani,
anagpungah . . ."

Those mystic words, believed to give magic speed to the one who utters
them, came in the well known tones of Ootah. A joyous cry went up from
the women.

When Annadoah opened her eyes Ootah was bending over her.

"I was held in the mountains, Annadoah. The hill spirits were at war.
The snow came, the storm spirits loosed the ice. I fell into an abyss
. . . I lay asleep . . . for very long. It seemed like many moons. I
could barely walk when I awoke. I had no food. I became very weak,
but I uttered the _serrit_ (magic formula;), those words of the days
when man's sap was stronger, and the good winds bore me hither."

A mystical silver light had risen over the horizon, and in the soft
glimmer Annadoah saw that the face of Ootah was haggard and drawn. His
voice was weak.

"The sun hath gone," murmured Ootah. "The long night comes. Ootah
heard thy cry and has come to care for thee, Annadoah."

His voice was a caress.