Chingatok caught her by the wrist, held up a finger as if to impose silence, smiled brightly, and listened.
Again the shriek was repeated with prolonged power.
“Tell me, my son,” gasped Toolooha, “is Oblooria—are the people safe? Why came you to me alone?”
“The little sister and the people are safe. I came alone to prevent your being taken by surprise. Did I not say that it could shriek and yell? This is the white man’s big canoe.”
Dropping the old woman’s hand as he spoke, Chingatok darted into the open air with the agility of a Polar bear, and Toolooha followed with the speed of an Arctic hare.
Chapter Four.
A Catastrophe and a Bold Decision.
Two days after her arrival at the temporary residence of the northern Eskimos, the steam yacht Whitebear, while close to the shore, was beset by ice, so that she could neither advance nor retreat. Everywhere, as far as the eye could reach, the sea was covered with hummocks and bergs and fields of ice, so closely packed that there was not a piece of open water to be seen, with the exception of one small basin a few yards ahead of the lead or lane of water in which the vessel had been imprisoned.