Suddenly the dogs growled fiercely, and ran so fast towards the rocks that Buza was scarcely able to hold them.
"It only needed this!" he cried with pale lips. "A rock-spirit!"
A dark brown, unmoving face looked through a crevice in the rock.
"Make the sign of the Cross over him, Father!"
With trembling hands the missionary made the sign of the Cross; but the head did not disappear. Stefan held in his dogs, which were straining at their harness. He looked fixedly at the head.
"Otowaka! is that you?" he cried at last, when an old Chukchee, thin and pale, came out, leading a little boy by the hand.
"It is I ... Otowaka ... Kituwia...." he said; but his lips were too parched to continue, and he merely waved his hand towards the distant Peweka. "The Great Spirit would not allow my family to perish without an avenger. I will go with you and be baptized, and bring him up."
He laid his hand on the head of the boy, whose face suddenly took a disdainful expression, reminding Stefan strikingly of Kituwia's stony face.