laid one of his strong hands on the Englishman's shoulder, intending to
thrust him aside violently. Leo was naturally of a tender disposition.
He shrank from dealing a violent blow to one who had not the remotest
idea of what was coming, or how to defend himself from the human fist
when used as a battering-ram.

But Leo chanced to be, in a sense, doubly armed. During one of his
holiday rambles in England he had visited Cornwall, and there had
learned that celebrated "throw" which consists in making your haunch a
fulcrum, your right arm a lever, and your adversary a shuttlecock. He
suddenly grasped his foe round the waist with one arm. Next moment the
Grabantaks saw what the most imaginative among them had never till then
conceived of--Koyatuk's soles turned to the sky, and his head pointing
to the ground! The moment following, he lay flat on his back looking
upwards blankly.

The huk! hi! ho! hooroos! that followed may be conceived, but cannot be
described. Some of the men burst into laughter, for anything ludicrous
is irresistible to an Eskimo of the very far north. A few were
petrified. Others there were who resented this indignity to the
heir-apparent, and flourished their spears in a threatening manner.
These last Grabantak quieted with a look. The incident undoubtedly
surprised that stern parent, but also afforded him some amusement. He
said it was an insult that must be avenged. Oddly enough he made use of
an expression which sounded curiously familiar to Leo's ears, as
translated by Anders. "The insult," said Grabantak, "could only be
_washed out in blood_!"

Strange, that simple savages of the far north should hold to that
ridiculous doctrine. We had imagined that it was confined entirely to
those further south, whose minds have been more or less warped by
civilised usage.

A ring was immediately formed, and poor Leo now saw that the matter was
becoming serious. He was on the eve of fighting an enforced duel in
Oblooria's service.

While the savages were preparing the lists, and Koyatuk, having
recovered, was engaged in converse with his father, Leo whispered to
Anders--

"Perhaps Oblooria has no objection to be the wife of this man?"

But the poor girl had very strong objections. She was, moreover, so
emphatic in her expressions of horror, and cast on her champion such a
look of entreaty, that he would have been more than mortal had he
refused her. It was very perplexing. The idea of k