|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 18
But in all this Ootah had no concern. Day by day the cloud-swimming
valleys below blazed with crimson-shot conflagrations . . . Ootah knew
the dead were lighting their monstrous camp fires--but even in this he
found no interest. Daily he became fainter and fainter from lack of
food, and daily, constantly, the winds whispered:
"The mouth of Annadoah is very red--red as a wound in the throat of a
deer . . ." and then sibilantly--"softly beats the heart of Annadoah
against the bosom of Olafaksoah." Then every fibre of him burned and
ached.
One day the radiant valley darkened . . . Out of the sky, as if rising
from worlds beyond the horizon, a cyclopean phantasm of clouds took
form. Rising higher and higher toward the zenith, ominous and
sinister, it gathered substance and spread across the glowing heavens
like a film of smoke . . . It took upon itself the awful semblance of
a mighty thing, half-beast, half-man. As if to strike, it slowly
lifted the likeness of a gigantic arm shrouded with tattered
clouds . . . The baleful shade shut off the sunlight from the
earth . . . Ootah's heart quailed . . . Terror gripped him . . . For
he saw--what few men had ever beheld--the shadow of _Perdlugssuaq_, the
Great Evil. Finally he found voice.
"O most dreadful of the _tornarssuit_ (spirits)," he called, grovelling
on his knees, "smite me! Smite me!"
During the tragic days of his isolation the full realization of all
that he had lost had come to Ootah. He fed upon the memory of
Annadoah's face. He remembered how, with the vision of that face
before him, he had excelled in the hunts and games, and for many moons
had felt confident of winning her. He dwelt for hours upon her
stunning rejection, of how she clung to the white man; he visioned with
heart corroding bitterness her days with Olafaksoah, and he burned with
unnameable anguished pangs as he conjured her nights. Now, the
violence of his grief exhausted, he invoked death.
Expectant, fearful, with closed eyes, he waited.
In the valley a storm gathered, and the low whine of the winds Ootah
believed to be the breath of the descending terror. The air became
unbearably colder as the dreaded creator of death, darkness and ice
descended. The taut suspense was terrible. Finally Ootah reached the
limits of human endurance--merciful unconsciousness blotted out the
long agony.
When he recovered the storm had passed. Scores of birds, driven
against the rocks by the terrible winds, lay dead at the entrance of
the cave. Surely the Great Evil had struck, but he lived. Hunger
stirred within him and he fell upon the birds.
Later he sought game in the lower valleys. He had lances and bows and
arrows with him. He found an inland vale, where a patch of green grass
was exposed despite a recent fall of snow--there a herd of musk oxen
grazed. He drew his bow of bone and sinew. One fell after the first
quiver of his arrow. His skill was marvellous. He had struck a vital
spot. He finished his killing of the fallen animal with a lance. He
feasted upon the raw meat, and carried away with him up to his eyrie
enough to last for many days.
The sun meanwhile sank lower and lower; there were long hours of
twilight; snow storms came; the cold increased. Ootah felt the first
whip of approaching winter. Ootah's spirit melted. Disquieting
messages came in the cold winds and darkening clouds. His heart beat
quickly at what the frightened birds told him. Olafaksoah, they said,
struck Annadoah. As she lay on the ground he kicked her. In the
snow-driven wind Ootah heard the echo of her heart-broken weeping. He
revoked the curses he had uttered; he cursed his own weakness whereby
he had invoked harm to her. Then in the winds Ootah heard the beat of
drums. In the clouds he saw the white men dancing with the Eskimo
maidens. Day after day they danced--day after day Annadoah wept.
Olafaksoah had become wearied. Disappointed in the failure to secure
greater supplies, he vented his impatience upon Annadoah. Cruelly he
bruised her little hands, he mocked and jeered her when she pleaded
with him. In fits of anger he often struck her. Finally, one day, in
the cloud phantasmagoria, Ootah saw Olafaksoah reeling from the strange
red-gold water the white men drank. He entered Annadoah's tent. She
crouched, terrified, in a corner. With him were three of his rough
blond companions. They staggered--and in the winds they sang.
Olafaksoah pointed consentingly to Annadoah. One of the men attempted
to embrace her. Then she rose defiantly and did what few Eskimo women
ever dared. She smote the man's leering face and, sobbing, sank on her
knees before Olafaksoah. He roared out things the Eskimos do not
understand. "_Goddlmighty_!" and more awful words. His fist
descended. In the winds Ootah heard Annadoah scream and call his name.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|