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Ballantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael), 1825-1894

"The World of Ice"

In a short time Meetuck, apparently, had expended all he had to
say to his friends, and turned to make explanations to Bolton in a very
excited tone; but little more could be made out than that what he said
had some reference to white men. At length, in desperation, he pointed
to a large hut, which seemed to be the principal one of the village, and
dragging the mate towards it, made signs to him to enter.
Bolton hesitated an instant.
"He wants you to see the chief of the tribe, no doubt," said Fred;
"you'd better go in at once."
A loud voice shouted something in the Esquimau language from within the
hut. At the sound Fred's heart beat violently, and pushing past the mate
he crept through the tunnelled entrance and stood within. There was
little furniture in this rude dwelling. A dull flame flickered in a
stone lamp which hung from the roof, and revealed the figure of a large
Esquimau reclining on a couch of skins at the raised side of the hut.
The man looked up hastily as Fred entered, and uttered a few
unintelligible words.
"Father!" cried Fred, gasping for breath, and springing forward.
Captain Ellice, for it was indeed he, started with apparent difficulty
and pain into a sitting posture, and throwing back his hood revealed a
face whose open, hearty, benignant expression shone through a coat of
dark brown which long months of toil and exposure had imprinted on it.
It was thin, however, and careworn, and wore an expression that seemed
to be the result of long-continued suffering.


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