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