Annadoah, tell her Ootah has loved her for many, many moons."

The bergs crashed into one another, and in the impact sank into the sea.

Ootah bit his lips. A vague misgiving was cold within his heart.

A flock of gulls passed low over the waters.

He called to them--that they should take his love to Annadoah. They
were to tell Annadoah that he would soon return, laden with food and
fuel for the winter. Their raucous cries mocked him. He demanded what
they meant. "Ootah--Ootah," they seemed to call, "how foolish art
thou, Ootah, how foolish art thou to love Annadoah. For fickle is
Annadoah--fickle, fickle the heart of the maiden Annadoah!"

Ootah shrieked an enraged defiance. His eyes sought the horizon.
_Kokoyah_, the sea god, was breathing deeply, and in the mists which
rose like fire-shot smoke before the sun, singular forms took shape.
Ootah saw the magnified shadows of great dogs. They seemed to be
dashing along the horizon. Then, with crushing strides, behind the
adumbration a great sled, a titan figure gathered substance in the
clouds. It moved with terrific speed; it dominated the sky. Its dress
was not that of the northern tribes. Ootah felt a resentful stirring,
as, looking upward, in the clouds overhead, a white face, hard, fierce,
scowling, with burning blue eyes, momentarily appeared.

"A white warrior from the south," Ootah murmured. "And he comes with
swift tread. What can it mean?"

In common with many primitive peoples, Ootah possessed the soul of a