Next moment he charged through the canine throng—scattering them in abject terror—dashed into the tunnel of Mangivik’s dwelling, and disappeared from view. Another moment and there issued from the igloe—not a scream: Indian girls seldom or never scream—but a female ebullition of some sort, which was immediately followed by the sudden appearance of Adolay, with the dog waltzing around her, wriggling his tail as if he wished to shake off that member, and otherwise behaving himself like a quadrupedal lunatic.
Eager inquiry was intensified in every line of her expressive face, and, withal, a half-scared look, as if she expected to see a ghost. If she had really seen one the effect could scarcely have been more impressive when her eyes encountered those of her father. She stood for a few moments gazing, and utterly unable to move, then, with a wild cry of joy, she bounded towards him. In like manner the Indian stood at first as if thunderstruck, for Cheenbuk’s information had not led him to expect this. Then his wonted dignity utterly forsook him; for the first time in his life, perhaps, he expressed his feelings of affection with a shout, and, meeting the girl half-way, enfolded her in an embrace that lifted her completely off her legs.
The Eskimos, as may well be imagined, were not only surprised but profoundly interested in the scene, and Cheenbuk was constrained to draw his narrative to an abrupt conclusion by informing them hurriedly that the Fire-spouter was the father of Adolay; that he had left home alone and on foot to search for her; that he was also the very man with whom, on the banks of the Whale River, he had fought and fraternised, and that therefore it behoved them to receive him hospitably as his particular friend.
Cheenbuk spoke the concluding sentence with a look and tone that was meant to convey a warning to any one who should dare to feel or act otherwise; but there was little need of the warning, for, with the exception of Aglootook the medicine-man, the chief leaders of the fire-eating portion of the tribe, Gartok and Ondikik, were at the time helpless.
While this irrepressible display of Dogrib affection was enacting, Attim was performing a special war-dance, or rather love-dance, of his own round the re-united pair. He was an unusually wise dog, and seemed to know that he could expect no attention just then; he therefore contented himself with a variety of hind-legged pirouettes, and a little half-suppressed yelping, knowing that his turn would surely come in time.
Meanwhile an incident occurred which seemed further to enhance the dramatic character of the meeting. There burst suddenly and without warning upon the amazed and horrified multitude a miniature thunder-clap, which, being absolutely new to their experience, shook them to their spinal marrow. Several boys of unusually inquisitive disposition, taking advantage of the pre-occupation of the tribe, ventured to poke about the sledge which had just arrived, and discovered the fire-spouter of the Indian. With awe-stricken countenances they proceeded to examine it. Of course, when they came to the trigger it went off. So did the boys—excepting the one who had touched the trigger. He, having the butt against his chest at the moment, received a lesson which he never forgot, and was laid flat on his back—as much with fright as violence. Fortunately there was nothing in front of the gun at the time save the tip of a dog’s tail. Into this one lead-drop entered. It was enough! The owner of the tail sprang into space, howling. Every one else, including dogs and bairns, with the exception of Mrs Mangivik—who, being as it were petrified with consternation, remained absolutely immovable—fled for shelter behind the igloes, leaving Nazinred, Adolay, Cheenbuk and Anteek in possession of the field.
By degrees their fears were calmed, and according to their courage the rest of the population returned to the scene of the explosion, some half ashamed of having run away, others more than half ready to run again.
“Do they sometimes do like that by themselves?” asked Cheenbuk, referring to the gun.
“Never,” said the Indian. “Some one must have touched it.”
“The boys,” remarked Anteek; “I know them!”