each brave hunter. For whoever brought back the most game, so they
believed, stood the best chance of winning the hand of Annadoah. Of
all the unmarried maidens of the tribes, none cooked so well, none
could sew so well as Annadoah, none was so skilled in the art of making
_ahttees_ and _kamiks_ as Annadoah. And, moreover, Annadoah was very
fair.

"Ootah! _aveq soah_! Hasten thou! The walrus are drifting to sea."

Attalaq rushed up to the village and paused at the tent of Annadoah.

"Ootah!" he called.

A voice from within replied.

"We start--the wind drifts--the walrus are carried to sea."

"I come!" replied Ootah.

The flap of the tent opened. The sunlight poured upon the face of the
young hunter. He smiled radiantly, with the self-assertion of youth,
the joy of life.

Ootah was graced with unwonted beauty. He was slight and agile of
limb; his body was supple and lithe; his face was immobile, beardless,
and with curving lips vividly red, a nose, small, with nostrils
dilating sensitively, and eyebrows heavily lashed, it possessed
something of the softness of a woman. His glistening black hair, bound
about his forehead by a narrow fillet of skins, fell riotously over his
shoulders. His eyes were large and dark and swam with an ardent light.