deer . . ." and then sibilantly--"softly beats the heart of Annadoah
against the bosom of Olafaksoah." Then every fibre of him burned and
ached.

One day the radiant valley darkened . . . Out of the sky, as if rising
from worlds beyond the horizon, a cyclopean phantasm of clouds took
form. Rising higher and higher toward the zenith, ominous and
sinister, it gathered substance and spread across the glowing heavens
like a film of smoke . . . It took upon itself the awful semblance of
a mighty thing, half-beast, half-man. As if to strike, it slowly
lifted the likeness of a gigantic arm shrouded with tattered
clouds . . . The baleful shade shut off the sunlight from the
earth . . . Ootah's heart quailed . . . Terror gripped him . . . For
he saw--what few men had ever beheld--the shadow of _Perdlugssuaq_, the
Great Evil. Finally he found voice.

"O most dreadful of the _tornarssuit_ (spirits)," he called, grovelling
on his knees, "smite me! Smite me!"

During the tragic days of his isolation the full realization of all
that he had lost had come to Ootah. He fed upon the memory of
Annadoah's face. He remembered how, with the vision of that face
before him, he had excelled in the hunts and games, and for many moons
had felt confident of winning her. He dwelt for hours upon her
stunning rejection, of how she clung to the white man; he visioned with
heart corroding bitterness her days with Olafaksoah, and he burned with
unnameable anguished pangs as he conjured her nights. Now, the
violence of his grief exhausted, he invoked death.

Expectant, fearful, with closed eyes, he waited.