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Page 55
In her desperation to escape, Annadoah, without a thought of the
danger, essayed to cross fjords where the ice was breaking. As she
sped over deceptive unbroken areas the ice often split under her feet.
In one of the sounds jammed ice was moving. To go around it she knew
would mean a loss of three miles. She leaped upon the heaving ice. It
rocked dangerously beneath her feet. As she left the shore the current
increased, the ice moved more swiftly. From cake to cake she leaped
with the agility of an arctic deer. The ice floes swirled under her
and tilted as her feet alighted. Half way across, her foot
slipped--the ice fragment eluded her wild grasp and she sank into the
frigid water. She felt herself sinking; for a moment she seemed unable
to continue the struggle--then she recalled the dear burden upon her
back. She fought the swift current and grappled madly with the jamming
ice. It gathered about her--she feared she would be buried by the
force of the impact. But with a mighty struggle she finally grasped
hold of a fortunate ridge on a cake and clambered to its surface. The
baby was unscathed. It was crying loudly in its hood. Although her
hands were almost frozen, the cold water had not entered her garments.
She leaped into the air and fled. She next scaled the rocky face of a
precipice to gain time--the rocks cut her face and hands. Swarms of
birds, frightened from their nests, surrounded her. Their cries filled
her with terror. Reaching, on the farther side, shallow streams over
which thin ice lay, she bravely forged ahead--the ice broke--her feet
sank into the mud. Her breath gave out--she felt paralyzing pangs in
her lungs. Yet the cries behind--which had become somewhat more
distant--urged her on. Again and again, in crossing water moving with
broken ice her feet slipped into black, treacherous streams, and,
swimming with native skill, she saved the child from the least harm.
By degrees its cries ceased and it fell into slumber. Occasionally
Annadoah was compelled to rest, to regain her breath. Her reserve
strength--as is that of her people--was tremendous. Staggering slowly
ahead, she often sank into engulfing morasses where the earth had
melted and willows were sprouting. Panting, trembling in every limb,
she fought her way out. For the better part of the journey her legs
moved mechanically--she was only half conscious. Urged by her
superhuman determination, the little woman struggled over twenty miles,
and when she reached the great promontory where the house stood, her
_kamiks_ were torn, her clothing was soaked with frigid water, and her
hands were bleeding from wounds inflicted by the sharp rocks.[1]
Behind her, in her delirious flight, Annadoah ever heard the
threatening cries of pursuing tribesmen.
As she approached the wooden house she staggered to and fro, and at one
time was perilously near the edge of the cliff.
Upon her back the infant slept peacefully.
"Olafaksoah! Olafaksoah!" she struggled to call, but her voice fell to
a whisper.
The windows of the grim house were as black as burnt holes; they glared
at her unseeingly, without welcome--like blind eyes.
Desperately she raised her voice. Only a panting, breathless plaint
quavered over the dumb, unreplying rocks. The sea licked its yellow,
hungry tongues below.
At the door of the frame house Annadoah paused and still without losing
hope again essayed to call. Her voice broke. The house was
undoubtedly vacant. There was no reply.
She bent her head to listen. She could hardly hear because of the
pound of blood in her ears.
Surely he had come--did he not say he would come in the spring?
She tried the door. It was locked.
She beat it frenziedly with her fists. She beat it until her fingers
bled.
Then she threw her body against it like a mad thing. With crooked
fingers she clawed savagely at the wood. At last she quelled the
tumult in her bosom and found voice.
"Olafaksoah--Olafaksoah--Olafaksoah--_ioh-h-h_! _Ioh-h-h_!" she
screamed. She sank to her knees and pounded at the door-sill with her
fists.
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