“But they are not long gone,” said Nunaga’s mother, by way of comforting her child.
“What matters that?” cried Nunaga in despair; “dear old Kannoa will be lost, for they know nothing of her danger.”
While the poor girl spoke, her brother Ermigit began to prepare himself hastily for action.
“Fear not, sister,” he said; “I will run to the great cliff, for I know it well. They left me to help to guard the camp, but are there not enough to guard it without me?”
With these words, the youth caught up a spear, and darted out of the hut.
Well was it for old Kannoa that night that Ermigit was, when roused, one of the fleetest runners of his tribe. Down to the shore he sprang—partly tumbled—and then sped along like the Arctic wind, which, we may remark, is fully as swift as more southerly breezes. The beach near the sea was mostly smooth, so that the absence of light was not a serious drawback. In a remarkably short space of time the lad overtook the rescue party, not far beyond the spot where the women had been surprised and Nunaga captured. Great was their satisfaction on hearing of the girl’s safe return.
“It’s a pity you didn’t arrive half an hour sooner, however,” said Rooney, “for poor Angut has gone off with a party towards the hills, in a state of wild despair, to carry on the search in that direction. But you look anxious, boy; what more have you to tell?”
In a few rapidly-spoken words Ermigit told of Kannoa’s danger. Instant action was of course taken. One of the natives, who was well acquainted with the whole land, and knew the mound where the robbers had halted, was despatched with a strong party to search in that direction, while Rooney, Okiok, and the rest set off at a sharp run in the direction of the great cliff which they soon reached, panting like race-horses.
Scrambling to the top, they found no one there. By that time the short night of spring had passed, and the faint light of the coming day enabled them to make an investigation of the ground, which tended to prove that no one had been there recently.
“We can do nothing now but wait,” said Red Rooney, as he sat on a projecting cliff, wiping the perspiration from his brow.