distinct among all the heavenly bodies, throbbed with a van-colored
changing glow like a bulbous opal, and about it, with a strange
shimmer, visibly swirled its iridescent rings.

"Thou standest alone--thou wouldst leave me?" Papik, eager,
triumphant, questioning, emerged from the stone entrance to the house
and approached the girl. The other natives, homeward bent, followed.

The girl was silent.

"Methought thou wouldst be glad----"

"Thy dog is strong," the girl replied.

"Dost thou love that dotard Attalaq?"

"No," the maid replied. "He is clumsy as the musk ox."

They turned, walking toward the igloo occupied by Ahningnetty and her
aged father.

"Wilt thou not be Papik's wife?" Papik pleaded. "My shelter is
cold--little meat have I. The white men robbed the tribe. But
perchance the bears come--then I shall kill them; valiant is my dog."
He patted the animal's shaggy head.

"But thy fingers, Papik--Papik! No--no!"

"But Papik loves thee," he protested; "his skin flushes with the
thought of thee."