But now they all stopped. They were pointing at the cabin, some of them gesticulating wildly.
After a time they came on again, but this time much more slowly. In their lead was a wild-haired man, who constantly went through the weird dance motions of these native tribes; weird, wild calisthenics they were, a thrusting out of both hands on this side, then that, a bowing, bending backward, leaping high in air. And now they caught the sound of the witch song they were all chanting:
"I—I—am—ah! ah! ah!
I—I—I ah! ah! ah!"
As they neared the cabin Lucile turned away.
"I—I think," she said unsteadily, "we had better bar the door."
At that she lifted the heavy bar and propped it against the door.
CHAPTER XVIII
A NEW PERIL
Long hours in the cranny of the cliff Phi was wrapped in heavy slumber. Dressed as he was in deerskin and sealskin garments, he did not feel the cold. The bed was soft, his "house" well sheltered from the wind.
He awoke at last to start and stare. The sun was painting the peaks of distant ice-piles with a touch of pink and gold. He experienced a strange sensation. For one brief moment he fancied himself on the mainland of Alaska. This, he realized, was not entirely impossible; the ice-floe might have circled about to carry him near to the coast again.