as they pierced the radiant distance. From the mountain passes behind
the village echoed the joyous howls of approaching dogs. Something
stirred in the heart of Annadoah--something fluttered there like the
wings of a frightened bird.


Ootah's paddle touched the water with the softness of a feather, yet so
quickly that the double blades emitted constant flashes of light
intermittently on either side. His arms moved with consummate ease.
His kayak made a dark blurred line as it sped forward over the yellow
waters. Soon he had outdistanced the party. Then his speed slackened,
he glanced behind.

The other kayaks darted after him like erratic bugs. The land was a
mere curve on the horizon; all about him the sea rose and fell, and
from the shimmering mirror of every wave the sunlight shot backward in
various directions. A thousand golden searchlights seemed playing over
the sea. Now and then through the coppery mists an emerald green berg
loomed titanically, and as it slowly bore down upon him, Ootah would
gracefully manipulate one end of his paddle and shift his kayak about
while the berg lurched toweringly onward. As he gained distance from
the land the ocean swelled with increasing volume. His frail skin
kayak was lifted high on the oily crests of waves, and as it descended
with swift rushes, Ootah felt exultant thrills in his heart. Far away
he heard the resounding explosion of ice bergs colliding. A low bellow
arose from a floe immediately ahead. Ootah's blood leaped, the spirit
of the hunter throbbed in his veins, his nostrils sensitively quivered.
With a slow silent movement of the paddle, he prevented his kayak from
going too great a distance forward in order to await the others.
Judging by the sound of the muffled bellowing, he assumed that the