“A mystery!” shouted Grabantak.
“An evil spirit!” cried Koyatuk.
“A new kind of bird!” roared Teyma.
At that moment a cry louder than ever arose. Leo’s boat was observed coming like a narwhal over the sea, with the foam flying from its bows!
The “new kind of bird,” so they at first imagined, had let down a long thin tail, caught the boat of the white man, and was flying away with it!
Into the midst of them the boat rushed. They dashed aside right and left. Leo was standing in the bow. He moved not, spoke not, looked at no one, but stood up, bent a little forward, with a stern frown on his brow, his lips compressed, and the long lance held level in both hands as if in the act of charging.
“Catch hold of him!” yelled Grabantak as they flew past. As well might they have tried to catch a comet!
“Steer a little to the left,” said Leo in a low tone.
Obedient, on the instant, the girl made a sharp stroke with the oar.
“Steady—so. Now, Oblooria, hold on tight for your life!”