Ootah began work on an igloo for Annadoah.  None of the tribesmen had offered to do this for her, and, as only the men develop the architectural skill required to construct a snow shelter, Annadoah, until Ootah’s return, was forced to continue to live in her seal-skin tent, where she suffered bitterly from the cold.  His back aching, scarcely pausing to rest, Ootah constructed an icy dome of more than usual solidity.  This completed, he went many miles, through the darkness, to the south, where, in the shelter of certain rocks, he knew there was much soft moss.  Digging through the frozen blanket of ice he secured a quantity, and returning, made with it a soft bed for Annadoah over a tier of stones.  This he covered in turn with the soft skin of caribou.  Inside the immaculate house of snow he fashioned an interior tent of heavy skins to retain the heat of the oil lamps.  Of his own supplies of blubber and walrus meat, which he had secretly buried early in the hunting season and which had thus escaped the rapacity of the white men, he gave more than half to Annadoah.  He fixed her lamps with oil, and arranged them solicitously in positions where they would give most heat.  He placed supplies in the house, and buried the rest outside so that Annadoah might readily reach them.  Meanwhile Annadoah sat alone in her tent, her sad face buried in her hands, “her shadow yearning toward the south.”  Many of the tribe, emerging from their igloos, had paused to taunt Ootah at his labors.

“A-ha—­a-ha!” they laughed.  “Thinkest thou that Annadoah will let thee share her igloo when the snow closes in?” They laughed again.  Ootah seriously shook his head.

“I would that Annadoah be protected from the storm,” he said simply.

“A-ha—­ha!  No man buildeth a house wherein he may not have shelter; no man layeth a bed of soft moss whereon he doth not expect to lie.  Idiot Ootah, as well mayest thou expect the willows to sprout in the long night—­Annadoah thinketh naught of thee.  Why seekest thou not a sensible maiden?”

“He hath given Annadoah half of his meat and fuel,” the women murmured complainingly among themselves.

“He hath given her his skins; he hath thieved upon himself.”

“Why hath he not taken another to wife?  Verily men are few; women are many.  And all gaze favorably upon Ootah.”

“Yea, his arm is strong.”

“There is courage in his heart.”

“He feareth not the night.”

“He should press his face upon the face of one who is fair; his wife should bear children.”

When Annadoah passed from her tent into her new home the women scolded her bitterly.  The men goodnaturedly jeered Ootah.  Annadoah huddled near Ootah and gazed gratefully into his eyes.  In the thought that he was there to protect her the heart of Ootah pulsed with joy.  Annadoah’s heart was cold.  Annadoah sat inside the new little house of snow, the oil lights flickering fitfully.  In the dancing shadows Annadoah saw the semblance of the form of the blond chief.  Joylessly Ootah built his own home.