had wrought havoc upon Annadoah. Ootah's heart ached.
Finally her eyelids stirred. Her lips parted. A smile brightened her
face. Ootah leaned forward, breathlessly. Her lips framed an
inaudible word:
"Olafaksoah . . . Olafaksoah . . ." She opened her eyes. The smile
faded. "Thou . . . ?" she said.
"Yea, Annadoah, I have brought thee food," Ootah said. It was his last.
"I hunger," she breathed. "It is very cold . . . I was in the
south . . . where the sun is warm . . . it is very cold here."
Eagerly he pressed her hands. She drifted again into a stupor and for
a long while was silent. Ootah's warm panting breath finally brought
blood to her cheeks.
"Thou art so big . . . and strong . . ." she smiled again. "Thy arms
hurt me . . . as the embrace of _nannook_ (the bear). . . ." Her smile
deepened . . . her breath came more quickly. "Oh, oh, it is
pleasant . . . here . . . in . . . the south."
"Annadoah!" Ootah's wail of hurt recalled her.
Her eyes sought the igloo wonderingly.
"Thou?" she repeated, dully. "Yea, it is cold here. I am hungry . . .
Are there not _ahmingmah_ in the mountains, Ootah? Didst thou not tell
me there were _ahmingmah_ in the mountains . . . why do not the men of
the tribe seek the musk oxen in the mountains?"
With a sudden start Ootah remembered having told Annadoah of the herd
he had found in the inland valley--it was strange, he thought, he had
not remembered the herd before. And it was stranger still that now she
should remind him. But the improbability of ever reaching the game,
the obvious impossibility of such a journey at this time of winter, had
prevented any such suggestion.
"Many musk oxen are there in the mountains," he said, soothing her
hands. She drew them away. "And thou art hungry . . ."
"I am hungry," she replied, faintly.
After he had given her the last bit of meat he left her igloo. Above
him the stars burned, the air was clear and still. Not a thing moved,
not a sound was heard--the earth was gripped in that unrelenting spell
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