With the setting of the sun, the wind fell. The snow-fog drifted away and the moon came out. Lucile crept out of the cabin and went in search of some new form of food. She found the spare-ribs of a seal hanging over a pole on one of the caches. It seemed fairly fresh, and when a piece was set simmering over the seal-oil lamp it gave forth an appetizing odor.
The two girls stood by the window as the food cooked. They were looking out over the sea, which was now a solid mass of ice.
"I almost believe I can catch the faint outline of that other island," said Lucile.
"Yes, I think you can," said Marian. "But what was that?" She gripped her companion's arm.
"What?" said Lucile.
"I—thought—yes, there it is; out there to the right. Some dark object moving among the ice-cakes."
"Yes, now I see it. And there's another and another. Yes, perhaps twenty or more. What can they be?"
"Men—and—dogs," said Marian, slowly. "The tribe is coming home." There was a little catch in her voice. Every muscle in her body was tense. They were far from their homes, not knowing where they were; and these people, a strange, perhaps wild, tribe of savages.
Then there came to Marian the words of the great bishop: "Humanity is very much the same everywhere," and for a time the thought comforted her.
They remained there standing in full view in the moonlight, watching until the men could be distinguished from the dogs; until the whole company, some fifty or more people, left the ice and began to climb the slope that led to the village.