“No, no,” said the latter, who was brave as well as pretty, “we need not fear. Our men will take care of us.”
“I wish that Chingatok was here!” whimpered poor little Oblooria, nestling closer to Tekkona and grasping her tail, “he fears nothing and nobody.”
“Ay,” assented Tekkona with a peculiar smile, “and is brave enough to fight everything and everybody.”
“Does Oblooria think that no one can fight but the giant?” whispered Oolichuk, who stood nearest to the little maid.
He drew a knife made of bone from his boot, where it usually lay concealed, and flourished it, with a broad grin. The girl laughed, blushed slightly, and, looking down, toyed with the sleeve of Tekkona’s fur coat.
Meanwhile the yacht drew near to the floe on which our Eskimos were grouped. The ice was cracked right across, leaving a lane of open water about ten feet wide between its inner edge and the shore ice. The Eskimos stood on the land side of this crack, a hundred yards or so from it. On nearing the floe the strange vessel checked her speed.
“It moves its wings!” exclaimed Eemerk.
“And turns its side to us,” said Akeetolik.
“And wags its tail no more,” cried Oolichuk.
“Oh! do, do let us run away,” gasped Oblooria.