Despite the preparation their minds had received, and the fact that they were out in search of these very people, this sudden appearance of them filled most of the Eskimos with alarm—some of them with absolute terror, insomuch that the term “pale-face” became most appropriate to themselves.
“What shall we do?” exclaimed Akeetolik, one of the men.
“Fly!” cried Ivitchuk, another of the men, whose natural courage was not high.
“No; let us stay and behold!” said Oolichuk, with a look of contempt at his timid comrade.
“Yes, stay and see,” said Eemerk sternly.
“But they will kill us,” faltered the young woman, whom we have already mentioned by the name of Tekkona.
“No—no one would kill you,” said Eemerk gallantly; “they would only carry you off and keep you.”
While they conversed with eager, anxious looks, the steam yacht—for such she was—advanced rapidly, threading her way among the ice-fields and floes with graceful rapidity and ease, to the unutterable amazement of the natives. Although her sails were spread to catch the light breeze, her chief motive power at the time was a screw-propeller.
“Yes, it must be alive,” said Oolichuk to Akeetolik, with a look of solemn awe. “The white men do not paddle. They could not lift paddles big enough to move such a great oomiak,” (see Note 1), “and the wind is not strong; it could not blow them so fast. See, the oomiak has a tail—and wags it!”
“Oh! do let us run away!” whispered the trembling Oblooria, as she took shelter behind Tekkona.