and to all suitors shook her head.  “Become a great chief,” she would say.  “Win in the games, bring back the musk oxen, then perhaps Annadoah will listen.”  Each summer the young men pursued the hunt with the hope of becoming chief hunter among the tribesmen.  But for three summers Ootah had won signally above them all.  To the remote regions of their world the name of Ootah was whispered with awe.  Ootah carried off honors in the muscle-tapping and finger-pulling matches; he out-distanced all rivals in kayak races on the sea; he left everyone behind on perilous journeys to the inland mountains.  Of every living animal on land and sea he had killed, and in quantity of game he excelled them all.  Only of late had Annadoah listened with some degree of favor to his pleadings.  In the days of want he brought blubber to her for fuel, and provided her with meat.  And she was grateful.  Perhaps her heart stirred, but she feared the quiet passion of Ootah, and by a perverse feminine instinct she resented a tenderness so gentle that it seemed almost womanly.  With winter approaching, and food scarce, it was inevitable that Annadoah should wed.  And now that Ootah in the quest of the walrus had made the greatest kill, none doubted that he should be chosen.

As the kayaks approached the village an unexpected sight greeted the eyes of the hunters.

Along the shore, the women of the tribe and strange men were dancing.

Before the village tents they were gathered in groups.  While the elder women of the tribe beat a savage dance on membrane drums, the chubby-bodied maidens, dressed in fur trousers, swayed in the arms of the foreigners.

As the boats approached the shore, the natives recognized the visitors.  They were one of a half dozen parties of Danish traders who came north yearly from Uppernavik to gather the results of the season’s hunt.  Their visit meant an untold distribution of wealth among the tribe, for they brought needles, knives, axes, guns, ammunition, and in return secured a fortune in furs and ivory tusks.  They also doled out tea, biscuits, matches, tobacco, thread, and gaudy handkerchiefs beloved by the women.  Their coming had not been expected this season because of the dearth of game.

The men in the boats shouted to one another joyously.  Only Ootah felt a heavy sinking at his heart.  He saw the big blond-bearded men chucking the little women under their chins.  Their method of kissing was strange and repugnant to him.  Accustomed only to the chaste touching of a maiden’s face, the kiss of the white men he instinctively regarded as unnameably unclean.  He resented their freedom with the women.  But, children of the heart and brain, primitive, innocent, the women did not understand the white men’s strange behavior.  And the husbands, not comprehending, did not care.  A gun, ammunition, a few boxes of matches—­these constituted wealth in value exceeding a wife.