Grabantak now ordered his men to encamp, and feed till the gale should abate. Then, calling Leo and the interpreter aside, he questioned them closely as to the condition of the Poloese and the numbers of the white men who had recently joined them.
Of course Leo made Anders give him a graphic account of the preparations made by his enemies to receive him, in the hope that he might be induced to give up his intentions, but he had mistaken the spirit of the Eskimo, who merely showed his teeth, frowned, laughed in a diabolic manner, and flourished his spear during the recital of Amalatok’s warlike arrangements. He wound up by saying that he was rejoiced to learn all that, because it would be all the more to his credit to make his enemy go down on his knees, lick the dust, crawl in his presence, and otherwise humble himself.
“But tell him, Anders,” said Leo, earnestly, “that my white brothers, though few in number, are very strong and brave. They have weapons too which kill far off and make a dreadful noise.”
Grabantak laughed contemptuously at this.
“Does the Kablunet,” he asked, “think I am afraid to die—afraid of a noise? does he think that none but white men can kill far off?”
As he spoke he suddenly hurled his spear at a gull, which, with many others, was perched on a cliff about thirty yards off, and transfixed it.
“Go to the boat, Anders, and fetch my rifle,” said Leo in a low tone.
When the rifle was brought a crowd of Eskimos came with it. They had been closely observing their chief and the stranger during the conference, but remained at a respectful distance until they saw something unusual going on.
“Tell the chief,” said Leo, “to look at that peak with the solitary gull standing on it.”
He pointed to a detached cone of rock upwards of two hundred yards distant.