a terrible encounter, disastrous results, and singular termination.

let us return now to the wizard and his captives.

after travelling for several days at the utmost possible speed, the guilty man began to feel at ease as regarded pursuit, and commenced to advance at a more reasonable rate, giving the poor dogs time for sufficient rest, and going out once or twice on the floes to procure fresh supplies of seal-flesh for himself and his party.

the thaw which had by that time set steadily in had not broken up the old ice to the southward, so that no more thin ice or open water was met with. but although he had thus begun to take things more easily, ujarak did not by any means waste time. the wretched man was very morose, even savage, insomuch that he would scarcely reply to the questions which were timidly put to him at times by the women. it was evident that he repented of his hasty flight, and no doubt was rendered desperate by the reflection that the matter was by that time past remedy.

one morning, on rounding one of those bluff precipitous capes which jut out from the western coast of greenland into baffin’s bay, they came unexpectedly in sight of a band of eskimos who were travelling northwards.

ujarak pulled up at once, and for some moments seemed uncertain what to do. he had not yet been observed, so that there was a possibility of turning aside, if he were so disposed, and hiding among the rugged masses of ice which lined the bottom of the cliffs. before he could make up his mind, however, on the subject, a loud shout from the eskimos showed that he had been observed.

turning sharply, and with a savage scowl, to the women, he said in a low voice—

“if you say that i have run away with you, i will kill you and the children.”

a smile of contempt flickered on the face of kabelaw at the moment. observing it, the wizard added—

“there will be no escape for you. your death will be certain, for even if these people were to kill me, and carry you back to the village, my torngak would follow you and kill you.”

he said no more, for he knew well that he had said enough.

at first sight of the eskimo band, kabelaw’s heart had leaped for joy, because she at once made up her mind to explain how matters stood, and claim protection, which she had no doubt they would grant. but some eskimos, not less than many civilised people, are deeply imbued with superstition, and the bare idea of an invisible torngak pursuing her to the death—in the possibility of which she and nunaga more or less believed—was too much for her. in fear and trembling she made up her mind to be silent, and submit to her fate. it need scarcely be added, so did her more timid companion.

“where do you come from?” asked the leader of the party when they met.

“from the far-away there,” replied the wily wizard, pointing northward. “i do not ask where you come from.”

“why not?” demanded the leader, in some surprise.

“because i know already,” answered ujarak, “that you come from the far-away there,” pointing southward; “and i know that, because i am an angekok. you have come from a spot near to the land where the kablunets have settled, and you are bringing iron and other things to exchange with my kinsmen for horns of the narwhal and tusks of the walrus.”

knowing as he did from rumour that eskimos from the moravian settlements were in the habit of travelling northward for the purposes of barter, (though they had not up to that time travelled so far north as his own tribe), and observing bundles of hoop-iron on the sledges, it did not require much penetration on the part of a quick mind like that of ujarak to guess whence the strangers had come, and what their object was. nevertheless, the leader and most of the party who had circled round the wizard and his sledge, opened their eyes in amazement at this smart statement of their affairs.

“my brother must indeed be a great angekok, for he seems to know all things. but we did not come from near the land where the kablunets have built their huts. we have come from it,” said the matter-of-fact leader.

“did i not say that?” returned ujarak promptly.

“no; you said near it—whereas we came from it, from inside of itself.”

“inside of itself must be very near it, surely!” retorted the wizard, with a grave look of appeal to those around him.

a laugh and nod of approval was the reply, for eskimos appreciate even the small end of a joke, however poor, and often allow it to sway their judgment more powerfully than the best of reasoning—in which characteristic do they not strongly resemble some people who ought to know better? the matter-of-fact leader smiled grimly, and made no further objection to the wizard’s claim to correct intelligence.

“now,” continued ujarak, for he felt the importance of at once taking and keeping the upper hand, “my tribe is not far from here; but they are going away on a hunting expedition, so you must lose no time, else they will be gone before you arrive. they want iron very much. they have horns and tusks in plenty. they will be glad to see you. my torngak told me you were coming, so i came out a long way to meet you. i brought my wives and children with me, because i want to visit the kablunets, and inquire about their new religion.”

he paused for a moment or two, to let his tissue of lies have full effect, but the very matter-of-fact leader took advantage of the pause to ask how it was that if he, ujarak, had been told by his torngak of the coming of the trading party, he had failed to tell his tribe not to go on a hunting expedition, but to await their arrival.

“ha! ho!” exclaimed several of the eskimos, turning a sharp gaze upon the wizard, as much as to say, “there’s a puzzler for you, angekok!”

but ujarak, although pulled up for a moment, was not to be overturned easily. “torngaks,” he said, “do not always reveal all they know at once. if they did, angekoks would only have to listen to all they had to tell on every subject, and there would be an end of it; they would have no occasion to use their judgments at all. no; the torngaks tell what they choose by degrees. mine told me to leave my tribe, and visit the kablunets. on the way he told me more, but not all.”

this explanation seemed quite satisfactory to some, but not to all of them. seeing this, the wizard hastened to turn their minds from the subject by asking how far it was to the land of the kablunets.

“four suns’ journey,” replied the leader.

“it is the same to the village of my kindred,” exclaimed ujarak, getting quickly on his sledge. “i must hasten on, and so must you. time must not be wasted.”

with a flourish of his whip, he started his team at full speed, scattering the eskimos right and left, and scouring over the ice like the wind.

for a moment or two the leader of the band thought of pursuit, but seeing at a glance that none of his teams were equal to that of ujarak, and feeling, perhaps, that it might be dangerous to pursue an angekok, he gave up the idea, and resumed his northward route.

for two days more the wizard continued his journey, encamping each night at sunset, eating his supper apart, making his bed of bearskins in the lee of a shrub or under the shelter of an overhanging cliff, and leaving his captives to make themselves comfortable as best they could on the sledge. this they did without difficulty, all of them being well accustomed to rough it, and having plenty of bear and deerskins to keep them warm. the dogs also contributed to this end by crowding round the party, with deep humility of expression, as close as they were allowed to come.

at the end of these two days an incident occurred which totally changed the aspect of affairs.

on the morning of the third day they started with the dawn, and drove steadily southward for a couple of hours. they had just traversed a small bay, and were close to the high cape which formed its southern extremity, when one of the bars of the sledge broke, rendering a halt necessary. breaking the gloomy silence which he had so long maintained, the wizard spoke:

“go,” he said, “cook some food under the cliffs there. i will mend the sledge.”

the women replied, not by words, but by the more emphatic method of at once obeying the order. kabelaw seized and shouldered a large piece of raw seal’s flesh. nunaga took up little pussi with one hand, and the materials for producing fire with the other, and followed her companion. tumbler brought up the rear, staggering under the weight of the cooking-lamp.

they had only a couple of hundred yards to go. in a few minutes kabelaw was busy under the cliffs producing fire, in the usual eskimo fashion with two pieces of dry wood, while her friend set up the lamp and sliced the meat. the children, inheriting as they did the sterling helpful propensities of their parents, went actively about, interfering with everything, in their earnest endeavours to assist.

“isn’t he strange?” remarked kabelaw, glancing in the direction of ujarak, as she diligently twirled the fire-stick between her palms; “so different from what he was.”

“i think,” said nunaga, pouring oil into the lamp, “that he is sorry for what he has done.”

“no; him not sorry,” said tumbler, as he assisted pussi to rise, for she had tripped and fallen; “him not sorry—him sulky.”

kabelaw took no notice of this juvenile observation, but, blowing the spark which she had at last evoked into a flame, expressed some doubt as to ujarak’s repentance, and said she had never seen him in a state of sorry-tude before. whereupon tumbler pertly rejoined that he had often seen him in a state of sulky-tude!

the damage to the sledge was slight. it was soon repaired, and the wizard brought it round with him to the spot where breakfast was being got ready.

this was the first time he had eaten with them since the flight began. his manner, however, was not much changed. he was still silent and gloomy, though once or twice he condescended to make a remark or two about the weather.

when a man talks upon the weather, the ice is fairly broken—even in arctic regions—and from that well-nigh universal starting-point ujarak went on to make a few more remarks. he did so very sternly, however, as though to protest against the idea that he was softening to the smallest extent.

“nunaga,” he said, holding up a finger, “in two suns, or less, we shall arrive at the land where the kablunets have built houses and settled down.”

we may explain that the wizard here referred to the moravians, who had about that time sent out their first mission to greenland. of course he knew nothing of the object those self-sacrificing men had in view in thus establishing themselves in greenland, only vague rumours having at that time reached his distant tribe. all he knew was that they were kablunets, or foreigners, and that they had something mysterious to tell about the god of the kablunets.

nunaga received ujarak’s information in silence, and waited for more.

“and now,” he continued, “i want you to say when you arrive there that you are my wife.”

“but i am not your wife,” returned nunaga gently, yet firmly.

the wizard frowned, then he glared fiercely, then he looked sad, then there settled on his visage a sulky look which gradually faded away, leaving nothing but a simple blank behind. after that he opened his lips, and was about to speak, when nunaga opened her pretty eyes to their widest, also her pretty mouth, and gave vent to a tremendous shriek, which, reverberating among the cliffs, caused all the creatures around her, canine and human, to leap electrically to their feet.

to account for this we must take the reader round to the other side of the cliff, at the foot of which the party sat enjoying their breakfast.

there, all ignorant of the human beings so near at hand, sauntered an enormous polar bear. it seated itself presently on its haunches, and swayed itself gently to and fro, with its head on one side, as if admiring the arctic scenery. there was not much more than a space of five hundred yards between the parties, but owing to the great promontory which formed an effectual screen between them, and the fact that the light air blew from the land to the sea, neither bear nor dogs had scented each other.

it seemed as if bruin had only just got out of bed, for his little eyes blinked sleepily, his motions were exceedingly slow, and his yawns were frequent as well as remonstrative in tone. doubtless bears, like men, dislike early rising!

having gazed at the scenery long enough, and shaken off its lethargy to some extent, the bear began probably to think of food. then it arose, sauntered round the promontory, and presented itself to the more than astonished gaze of nunaga, who was the only one that chanced to sit facing in its direction.

the resulting shriek and its consequences seemed to have a petrifying effect on the animal, for it stood stock still for some moments, and simply gazed. this condition of things was instantly changed by three of the dogs breaking their traces, and rushing wildly at the animal. with two nimble pats of its great paws it sent two of the dogs into the air, almost killing them, while the third it dismissed, yelling hideously, with a bad tear in its flank.

quick as thought, ujarak set the other dogs free, and the whole pack ran open-mouthed at their natural foe, but another dog being promptly sent away howling, the rest were cowed, and confined themselves to barking furiously round their powerful foe.

apparently this was an old bear, confident perhaps in its strength, and used, it might be, to dog-assaults, for it paid no further attention to its canine opponents, but advanced with a very threatening aspect towards the sledge.

it is pretty well-known that two eskimo men of average strength and courage are more than a snatch for the polar bear, if armed with spears. the mode of attack is simple. the two men separate. the one who arranges to be the slayer of the animal advances on its left side; the other on its right. thus the victim’s attention is distracted; it becomes undecided which foe to attack first. the hunter on the right settles the question by running in, and giving him a prick with the spear. turning in fury on this man, the bear exposes its left side to the full force of a deadly thrust of the spear, which usually reaches the heart, and finishes it. the chances, however, are very much in favour of the bear when the man is alone. hence, single hunters are not fond of attacking a polar bear, except when unusually strong and courageous, as well as confident of their dexterity.

now it happened that ujarak, although strong and courageous enough, was not over-confident of his dexterity. with a tried comrade, he would readily have faced any bear in the arctic regions, but on this occasion he felt he had to depend entirely on himself.

seizing a spear quickly, he looked at the approaching animal, and glanced uneasily at nunaga.

“if i am killed,” he said, “you will have to defend the children.”

there was a tone of pathos in the voice, which showed that no touch of selfish fear influenced the man.

hitherto the women and children had stood absolutely horror-struck and helpless, but the vigorous nature of kabelaw came to her aid.

“we will help you,” she suddenly cried, catching up two spears, and thrusting one into the hands of nunaga; “two women may perhaps be equal to one man.”

the wizard smiled grimly in spite of circumstances at this heroic action, but there was no time for reply, as the bear was already close to them.

poor, timid nunaga, trembling from skin to marrow, had just courage enough to grasp her spear and follow kabelaw. the latter understood well how to act. she had often seen her own kinsmen do the work that was required of her. as for the two little ones, they continued throughout to stand limp and motionless, with eyes and mouths wide-open.

of course kabelaw ran to the right, and ujarak to the left of the foe. advancing, as in duty bound, a step or two ahead of her male friend, the former proceeded to prick the bear; but when the monster rose on his hind legs, and towered to a height of eight feet, if not more, her heart failed her. nevertheless, she made a gallant thrust, which might have at least incommoded the animal had not the spear received a blow which not only sent it spinning out of the woman’s hand, but hurled poor kabelaw herself on the ice, a small lump of which cut open her temple, and rendered her for the moment insensible. at the same instant the wizard took prompt advantage of his opportunity, and delivered what should have been the death-wound. but the very energy of the man foiled him, for the spear entered too near the shoulder, and stuck upon the bone.

the fall of kabelaw had the peculiar effect of producing a gush of desperation in the tender heart of nunaga, which amounted, almost, to courage. with a lively shriek she shut her eyes, rushed in on the bear, and gave it a dab in the side, which actually sent her weapon into the flesh about an inch deep, and there it stuck fast.

feeling this new sting, the bear turned on her with a gasp of rage. she looked up. the great paws were extended over her head. the dreadful jaws were open. letting go her weapon, nunaga cast up her arms, shut her eyes again, and sank shuddering on the ice. down came the bear, but at that critical moment an irresistible force effected what the united party had failed to accomplish. the butt of nunaga’s spear chanced to enter a crack in the ice, where it stuck fast, and the weight of the descending animal sent the point through flesh, ribs, and heart, and out at his backbone. the spear broke of course, but in breaking it turned the monster on one side, and saved the poor girl from being smothered. at the same moment ujarak had made another desperate thrust, which, unlike the former, entered deep, but being misdirected, did not touch a vital part. in the violence of his effort the man fell, and the dying bear rolled upon him, rendering him also insensible.

when poor little nunaga, recovering from her state of semi-consciousness, opened her eyes, and sat up, her first impression was that the bear, the wizard, and kabelaw lay around her dead.

bad as the state of matters was, however, it was not quite so bad as that. the poor girl’s first act was to burst into a hysterical fit of laughter—so wonderfully constituted are some female minds—and she followed that up with an equally hysterical fit of weeping. but to do her justice, the fits did not last above half a minute. then she suddenly stopped, dried her eyes, jumped up, and, pursing her lips and knitting her brows, ran to her friend, whom she found just returning to a state of consciousness.

“what has happened?” asked kabelaw, in a dazed manner, as she looked at the blood which flowed from her wound.

nunaga did not answer, but ran to the bear, which was quite dead, and began to drag it off ujarak. with great difficulty, and by first hauling at its neck and then at its tail, she managed to move it just enough to set the man’s head and chest free. the wizard, thus partially relieved, soon began to show signs of returning life. in a few minutes he was able to sit up and drag his right leg from under the bear, but he was much exhausted, and only got it free after great exertion.

“are you hurt?” asked nunaga, in a tone of commiseration.

“not much, i think. i—i am not sure. i feel as if i had been much shaken, and my leg is painful. i hope,” he added, feeling the limb with both hands, “that it is not—”

he finished the sentence with a deep groan. but it was not a groan of pain so much as of despair, for his leg, he found, was broken just above the ankle.

it may perhaps require a little thought on the part of those who dwell in civilised lands to understand fully all that this implied to the eskimo. if it did not absolutely mean death by exposure and starvation, it at all events meant life under extremely uncomfortable conditions of helplessness and pain; it meant being completely at the mercy of two women whom he had grievously wronged; and it meant that, at the best, he could not avoid ultimately falling into the hands of his angry and outraged kinsmen. all this the wizard perceived at a glance—hence his groan.

now it may not be out of place to remark here that the qualities of mercy, pity, forgiveness, etcetera, are not by any means confined to the people of christian lands. we believe that, as our saviour “died for the sins of the whole world,” so the spirit of jesus is to be found working righteousness among individuals of even the worst and most savage nations of the earth. the extreme helplessness and pain to which her enemy was reduced, instead of gratifying revenge in nunaga, aroused in her gentle breast feelings of the tenderest pity; and she not only showed her sympathy in her looks and tones, but by her actions, for she at once set to work to bind up the broken limb to the best of her ability.

in this operation she was gleefully assisted by little tumbler and pussi, who, having recovered from their horror when the bear fell dead, seemed to think that all succeeding acts were part of a play got up for their special amusement.

when the surgical work was done, nunaga again turned her attention to kabelaw. she had indeed felt a little surprised that her friend seemed to take no interest in the work in which she was engaged, and was still more surprised when, on going up to her, she found her sitting in the same position in which she had left her, and wearing the same stupid half-stunned look on her face. a few words sufficed to reveal the truth, and, to nunaga’s consternation, she found that her friend was suffering from what is known among the civilised as concussion of the brain.

when the full significance of her condition at last forced itself upon the poor girl, when she came to see clearly that she was, as it were, cast away in the arctic wilderness, with the whole care of a helpless man and woman and two equally helpless children, besides a sledge and team of dogs, devolving on her she proved herself to be a true heroine by rising nobly to the occasion.

her first act was to return, with characteristic humility, and ask ujarak what she must do.

“you must take the dogs and sledge and the children,” he answered in a low voice, “and save yourselves.”

“what! and leave you here?”

“yes; i am bad. it is well that i should die.”

“but kabelaw?” said the girl, with a glance at her friend. “she has got the head-sickness and cannot help herself.”

“leave her to die also,” said the wizard carelessly; “she is not worth much.”

“never!” cried nunaga, with emphasis. “i will save her, i will save you all. did you not tell me that the village of the kablunets is only two suns from here?”

“that is so, nunaga.”

“can you creep to the sledge?” asked the girl quickly.

“i think i can.”

“try, then.”

the wizard tried, and found that he could creep on his hands and one knee, dragging the wounded limb on the ice. it gave him excruciating pain, but he was too much of a man to mind that. in a few minutes he was lying at full length on the sledge.

“now, tumbler and pussi,” said nunaga, “cover him well up with skins, while i go and fetch kabelaw, but don’t touch his leg.”

she found that kabelaw could walk slowly, with support, and after much exertion succeeded in getting her also laid out upon the sledge alongside of the wizard. then nunaga tied them both firmly down with long walrus-lines. she also attached the children to the sledge with lines round their waists, to prevent their being jolted off. having thus made things secure, and having cut off some choice portions of the bear for food, she harnessed the dogs, grasped the whip, mounted to the driver’s place, brought the heavy lash down with wonderful effect on the backs of the whole team, and set off at full gallop towards the land where kablunets were said to dwell.

fortunately, the ice was smooth most of the way, for jolting was not only injurious to poor kabelaw, but gave the wizard great additional pain. it also had the effect of bumping tumbler and pussi against each other, and sometimes strained their lashings almost to the breaking point.

at night nunaga selected as comfortable a spot as she could find under the shelter of the greenland cliffs, and there—after detaching the children, re-dressing ujarak’s leg, arranging the couch of the semi-conscious kabelaw, and feeding the hungry dogs—she set up her lamp, and cooked savoury seal and bear cutlets for the whole party. and, not withstanding the prejudices with which fastidious people may receive the information, it is an unquestionable fact that the frying of seal and bear cutlets sends a most delicious influence up the nose, though perhaps it may require intense hunger and an eskimo’s digestion to enable one to appreciate to the full the value of such food.

these labours ended, nunaga put the little ones to bed, made the wizard and kabelaw as comfortable as possible for the night, fastened up the dogs, and, spreading her own couch in the most convenient spot beside them, commenced her well-earned night’s repose. the first night her bed was a flat rock; the second, a patch of sand; but on both occasions the cheery little woman softened the place with a thick bear-skin, and, curling up, covered herself with the soft skin of a reindeer.

and what were the thoughts of the wicked ujarak as he lay there, helpless and suffering, silently watching nunaga? we can tell, for he afterwards made a partial confession of them.

“she is very pretty,” he thought, “and very kind. i always knew that, but now i see that she is much more. she is forgiving. i took her from her home by force, and would have made her my wife against her will—yet she is good to me. i have been harsh, unkind, cruel, sulky to her ever since we left home—yet she is good to me. i have torn her from all those whom she loves, with the intention that she should never see them again—yet she is good to me. she might have left me to die, and might easily have gone home by herself, and it would have served me right, but—but she is good to me. i am not a man. i am a beast—a bear—a fox—a walrus—”

as the wizard thought thus, a couple of tears overflowed their boundaries, and rolled down the hitherto untried channel of his cheeks.

do you think, reader, that this line of thought and emotion, even in a savage, was unnatural? is not the same principle set forth in scripture in reference to far higher things? need we remind you that it is “the goodness of god which leadeth thee, (or any one else), to repentance?”

as it is in the spiritual world, so is it in the natural. at the time of which we write the same grand principle was powerfully at work in nature. “thick-ribbed ice,” which the united forces of humanity could not have disrupted, was being silently yet rapidly dissolved by the genial influence of the sun, insomuch that on the evening of the day after nunaga had been compelled by circumstances to assume command of the expedition, several sheets of open water appeared where ice had been expected, and the anxious charioteer was more than once obliged to risk the lives of the whole party by driving out to sea on the floes—that being better than the alternative of remaining where they were, to die of starvation.

but by that time they were not far distant from the kablunet settlements.