The Eskimos again, and a Great Discovery and Rescue.

While Nazinred, under the influence of strong affection, was thus fighting with the unfamiliar difficulties and dangers of the polar sea, Cheenbuk and his Eskimo friends were enjoying life in what may be called their native element.

“Will Adolay come for a drive?” said our gallant Eskimo one day when the sun had risen near enough to the eastern horizon to almost, but not quite, extinguish the stars. “We go to seek for walruses.”

The Indian maiden was sitting at the time in the snow residence which belonged to Mangivik. Mrs Mangivik was sitting opposite to her mending a seal-skin boot, and Cowlik the easy-going was seated beside her, engaged with some other portion of native attire. Nootka was busy over the cooking-lamp, and old Mangivik himself was twirling his thumbs, awaiting the result of her labours. Oolalik was there too—he was frequently there—courting Nootka in the usual way, by prolonged silent staring. The process might have been trying to some women, but Nootka did not mind. Like many young damsels, she was fond of admiration, and could stand a good deal of it, no matter how peculiar the mode in which it was expressed.

“I don’t care to go,” said Adolay, with a sigh.

Cheenbuk did not repeat the invitation or press for a reason. He was a considerate as well as a gallant youth. He knew that the poor girl was pining for her parents, and that she regretted having left them—even although remaining in her native village might have involved her being wed against her will to the hated Magadar, or subjected to his persecutions during her father’s absence. Cheenbuk did his best to comfort her with the assurance that he would take her back to her home with the very first of the open water. But when Adolay began to realise what a very long time must elapse before the ice would reopen its portals and set the waters free, her heart sank and she began to mope.

“We may as well have some women with us,” remarked Oolalik, with a pointed glance at Nootka, but Nootka took no notice of either the observation or the glance. Even Eskimo girls understand how to tease!

“Will Cowlik go?” asked Cheenbuk.

“Yes.” Cowlik smiled, and was quite ready to go.

“No, she won’t,” said Mrs Mangivik, with a positiveness almost European in its tone.

“Very well.” Cowlik smiled, and was equally ready to remain.

Mangivik himself expressed no opinion on the subject, but twirled his thumbs faster as he expressed a hope that the cooking would be soon completed.

It was finally arranged that only young men should go, with sledges and teams of dogs to fetch the meat home.

The little town in which this scene was being enacted was composed of between twenty and thirty whitey-brown bee-hives of snow, of the usual shape, ranged on the ice near the shore of a large island. The scene presented was a lively one, for while some of the inhabitants were creeping into the small tunnels which formed as it were porches before the doors, others were creeping out. Men and dogs were moving about—the former harnessing the latter to sledges in preparation for the approaching hunt, while hairy little balls of children were scampering about in play, or sitting on the tops of the snow bee-hives, watching the proceedings with interest.

The Eskimo sledge is a contrivance of wood capable of accommodating five or six men, and usually drawn by a team of from six to ten dogs, each dog being fastened to it by means of a separate line of tough walrus-hide. In a short time the long-lashed, short-handled, powerful whips cracked, the teams yelped, the men shouted, and away they all went with much noise over the frozen sea.

After a short run the parties separated and went in different directions. Cheenbuk and his men drove in a southerly direction. Soon they came to a place which had been kept open by walruses as a breathing-hole. Here they got out, hid the sledge and dogs behind a hummock, and, getting ready their spears and harpoons, prepared for an encounter. After waiting some time a walrus thrust its ungainly head up through the young ice that covered the hole, and began to disport itself in elephantine, or rather walrusian, gambols.

Tiring of this in a few minutes, it dived, and the natives ran to the edge of the hole to be ready when it should come up again. The animal was a female, and a small one. When it re-appeared harpoons and lances were at once driven into it, and it was killed almost immediately. This is not always the result of such an encounter, for this elephant of the polar seas is naturally a ferocious brute, and when bulls are attacked they are prone to show fight rather than take fright.

Leaving the young men to skin and cut up the meat, Cheenbuk went on, with only Anteek to keep him company, in search of another breathing-hole.

“You must harpoon the next one all alone, and kill him without help,” said Cheenbuk to his companion soon after they had started.

“I’ll try,” returned the boy, with the air of confidence befitting a knight who had already won his spurs, yet with the modesty of a youth who was aware of his fallibility.

But Anteek was not destined to distinguish himself that day, for, about three miles beyond the place where the walrus had been slain, they came across a track so singular that, on beholding it, they were stricken dumb with surprise.

Stopping the dogs, they gazed at it for a few moments in speechless wonder.

“I am not an old man,” said Cheenbuk at length in a solemn tone, “but I have seen most of the wonderful things in this world, yet have I never seen a track like that!”

He pointed to the track in question, and turned a look of blazing inquiry on Anteek.

“And I am not an old boy,” returned the other, “but I too have seen a good many of the wonderful things of this world, yet have I never even dreamed of the like of that!”

It will doubtless strike the reader here, as an evidence that Eskimos are under similar delusions to the rest of the human family, that these two referred to that world of theirs as equivalent to the world at large!

“What can it be?” murmured Cheenbuk.

“The very biggest bear that ever was, come............