A far-away look came into her eyes, and Ootah felt an infinite ache at his heart.

“I am afraid, Ootah,” she said presently, in a trembling voice . . .  “Afraid . . . my head burns—­the igloo is black . . .  Dost thou remember what the women told their dead? . . .  They invoked the dead to curse me . . . as I stood by the open sea . . . when the moon rose . . .  Ootah!  Ootah!  I cannot see thee . . .  It is very . . . dark.”  Ootah laid his hand upon Annadoah’s head.

“The spirits do not fare well within thee,” he said.  “But I will care for thee.”

For nearly a moon Annadoah lay ill with a strange fever.  And in her disturbed dreams, as Ootah watched through the long hours, she murmured vaguely, but longingly, for the spring.

IX

“Turning softly, she found a tiny naked baby . . .  Annadoah leaned forward, gazing at it intently, wildly—­then uttered a scream as though she had been stabbed to the heart . . .”

The sun rose above the horizon and flooded the earth with liquid gold; again the sea ran with running light; the melting glaciers shimmered with burning amethystine hues; the snow-covered mountains took fire and glowed with burning bars of chrysoberyl and sapphire, while on the limpid sea the moving bergs glittered like monstrous diamonds electrically white.  On the sequestered slopes of the low mountain valleys green mosses once more carpeted the earth, buttercups and dandelions peeped pale golden eyes from the ground, in the teeming crevices of the high promontories delicate green and crimson lichens wove a marvellous lacery, and wherever the sun poured its encouraging springtime light beauteous small star- and bell-shaped flowers burst into an effulgence of pale rose and glistening white bloom.  The suggestion of a very faint, sweet aroma pervaded the air.

Above the promontories millions of auks again made black clouds against the sky,—­eider ducks floated on the molten waters of sheltering fjords,—­along the icy shores puffins, with white swelling breasts, sat in military line,—­guillemots cooed their spring love songs and fulmar gulls uttered amorous calls,—­on the green slopes the white hare of the arctic gambolled, and tiny bears, soft and silken flossed, played at the entrances of moss-ensconced caves.  Out on the sea unexpected herds of walrus lay sleeping on floating ice; harp seals sported joyously in the waves; a white whale spouted shafts of blue water high into the air.  From the interior mountains came the howl of wolves and foxes, the sound of rushing waters and the roar of released glaciers.  Nature was vocal with awakening life.

In her igloo Annadoah lay alone—­for with spring the time of her trial had come.