"Annadoah hath already chosen—her heart is in the south," Ootah replied, sadly.
"Fool!" the other man shrieked. "Didst thou not go to the mountains to get her food; didst thou not thieve from thine own self to give oil to her; didst thou not fawn upon her and perform the services of a woman? Thou liest if thou sayest thou wilt not have her for thy wife. No man doeth this unseeking of reward."
"I love Annadoah," Ootah said, bitterly.
"Yea, and thou hast hope."
"Perchance—perchance I have hope."
"And Annadoah looks with favor upon thee—I have seen it in her eyes. Did she not greet thee as women greet their lovers when thou camest from the mountains, and did she not bind thy wounds with strange ointment?"
"She thought of another—her heart was in the south."
"Hath she not sought thee hither—upon the ice—when the women fell upon her with their curses? Her heart wings to thee, did she not say, as birds to green grasses in the mountains?"
"Her heart is in the south," Ootah sadly moaned.
"The heart of woman changes always," cried Maisanguaq. "The heart of woman always yields to force. Pst?"