The Eternal Maiden | Page 2

the members of the tribe. Along a
mottled green-and-brown stretch of shore, which rolled undulatingly
toward the icy fringe of the polar sea, more than twoscore hunters were
engaged in unusual activity. Some were lacing tight over the
framework the taut skin of their kayaks. Others sharpened harpoon
points with bits of flint. Tateraq busily cut long lashings from tanned
walrus hides. Maisanguaq deftly took these and pieced them together
into long lines, which were rolled in coils lasso-fashion. Arnaluk and a
half dozen others sat on their haunches, between their knees great balls
made of the entire hides of seals. With cheeks extended they blew into
these with gusto. Filled with air, the hides became floats, which were
attached to the leather lasso lines. The lines in turn were fastened by

Attalaq and Papik to harpoons, which were to be driven into the walrus,
the natives' chief prey of the arctic sea.
A babel of conversation swayed to and fro among this northernmost
fringe of the human race. Now and then it was drowned in the raucous,
deafening shriek of auks which swarmed from nearby cliffs and soared
in clouds over the shore.
"Aveq soah! Walrus! Walrus!" shouted Papik, tossing up his arms and
dancing, his brown face twisting with grotesque grimaces of joy.
"_Aveq soah! Aveq soah_!" He leaped in frenzy. He seized his harpoon
in mimicry of striking, and darted it up and down in the air. "Walrus!
Walrus!" he cried, and his feverish contagion spread through the crowd.
"Aveq tedicksoah! A great many walrus," echoed Arnaluk. "Aveq
tedicksoah! Walrus too many to count!"
They stopped their work and gathered in a group, Papik before them,
his arms pointing toward the sea. His eyes glistened.
To the south, _Im-nag-i-na_, the entrance to the polar sea, was hidden
by grayish mists which, as they shifted across the sun, palpitated with
running streaks of gold. From the veiled distance the sound of a glacier
exploding pealed over the waters like the muffled roar of artillery. The
sun, magnified into a great swimming disc by the rising vapors, poured
a rich and colorful light over the sea--it was a light without warmth. In
the turquoise sky overhead, the moving clouds changed in hue from
crimson to silver, and straggling flecks, like diaphanous ribbons,
became stained with mottled dyes. Against the horizon, the arctic
armada of eternally moving icebergs drifted slowly southward and, like
the spectral ships of the long dead Norsemen who had braved these
regions, flaunted the semblance of silver-gleaming sails. The sea rose
in great green emerald swells, the wave crests broke in seething curls of
silver foam, and in the troughs of descending waters glittered cascades
of celestial jewels. It was late summer--the hour, midnight.
The keen eyes of the natives searched the seas.
To the south of where the watchers were gathered, the glacial heels of
the inland mountains step precipitously into the sea and rise to a height
of several thousand feet. At the base of these iron rocks, corroded with
the rust of interminable ages, the fragments of great floes, like catapults,
are tossed by the inrushing sea. Above, in summertime, rises and falls
constantly a black mist resembling shifting cloud smoke. Millions of

auks swarm from their moss-ensconced grottos; an oppressive clamor
beats the air. Along the ocean, where crevices of the descending
iron-chiselled cliffs are fugitively green with ribbons of pale grass,
downy-winged ducks purr, mating guillemots coo incessantly, and
tremulous oogzooks chirrup joyously to their young.
As the natives listened, a deep nasal bellowing from the far ocean
trembled in the air.
Not a man stirred. The sound vibrated into silence. The auks screamed.
Hawks shrilled. From the far interior valleys came the echoed
wolf-howling of Eskimo dogs. There the mountain tops, perpetually
covered with ice and snow, gleamed through the clouds with running
colors of amaranth, green and mottled gold. The air swam with frigid
fire. As the tribe stood in silence along the shore, a roar as of gatling
guns pealed from the mist-hidden heights. After a taut moment of
silence, a frightened scream rose from every living thing on land and
sea. Yet the group of men only bent their heads. Then, like an
undertone in the chorus of animate life, their quick ears detected the
long-drawn, hoarse call of walrus bulls. The howls of the dogs from the
distant mountain passes came nearer. More distant receded the
stertorous nasal bellow on the sea.
The natives feverishly leaped to their tasks. There was a note of anxiety
in their voices. Onto the forepart of the kayaks they placed their
weapons, leather lines, floats and drags. More than twoscore boats were
drawn over the land-adhering ice to the edge of the sea. A fierce chatter
brought all the women to the