The Eternal Maiden

un . . . 'I-o-h-h-h,' she moaned, and her voice sobbed its pathos over the seas. 'I-o-h-h-h! I-

habitation could not be imagined in all the world, a more devastated land could nowhere else on all the globe be found. For leagues and leagues to the north and south, the scrofulous promontories lay barren under the blight of the merciless northern blasts. Over the corroded iron rocks strata of red earth and deeper crimson ore ran like the streaky stains of monstrous and unhuman murders committed in aeons past.

rescents of broken spray. From the sheer precipitous receding face of the cliff, knife-like granite spars projected, and in the crevices and nooks of these countless

lack. Before her-a small speck in the distance-she saw the black wooden house silhouetted against the molten sea. She could scarcely move her legs

ch step her one urging, predominant thought had been to forge ahead, to

slippery sides of melting glaciers, some of them a thousand feet high, and made sheer descents over

ming 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 mov

ht, Annadoah ever heard the threa

staggered to and fro, and at one time w

the infant sle

he struggled to call, but h

ck as burnt holes; they glared at her uns

eathless plaint quavered over the dumb, unreplying r

without losing hope again essayed to call. Her voice br

e could hardly hear because of

id he not say he wou

he door. It

ith her fists. She beat

th crooked fingers she clawed savagely at the wood. At

oh-h-h!" she screamed. She sank to her knees

ade their inviolable law, clambered up the cliff, they saw a dark, stark figure l

the tribe had accompanied them. Their voices rose with eager, glad calls to vengeance; they demanded the life

nadoah murmured, awakened from he

gainst the door, facing the clamoring crowd defiantly. In their veins the savage blood of fierc

ut the sinew lashing and rudely tore the baby from its hood. Annadoah fell back, half-stunn

a savage, snarling cry, as of a mountain wolf robbe

ncoherently. Holding to the men with a fierce grip she was dragged along on her knees. Then letting go, she cursed the tribe; she called upon the

the distance. Raising herself slightly, she saw a well-known figure bounding over

nnadoah's flight and the pursuit; and with an unselfish d

o an uproar; the women were chattering fiercely. With quick dexterity Attalaq loosely twisted a leather thong about the baby's neck, and in haste to

otah cried. "I will be fa

to become the father, protector and supporter of another man's helpless, defective infant. For, according to their custom, they just as spontaneously grant life to a defective child when a member offers to assume sole

hey gave way, and a low groan aros

open-eyed, frightened astonishment skyward, and in a lull of the interm

ff . . . he saw Annadoah's pleading white face . . . he extended his arms as a bird opens its wings for flight and brought the finger tips of hi

nadoah stood alone on the extreme edge of the precipitous cl

so overwhelming, unselfish and great, the natives ret

nights seemed concentrated in the brief spell that Annadoah tensel

tapults as they hurled him, nearer and nearer, toward the rocks beneath the cliff. Annadoah saw his white hand, glistening with water, shine in the sunlight as he tried to climb against the impetus of the sea. Sometimes his head sank-then only the struggling hand was seen. She crept dangerously closer to the edge of the cliff . . . Slowly, but steadily, Ootah and the child were being swept backward . . . By degrees the steady strokes of Ootah's arm began to waver. Annadoah saw him being carried further and further under the cliff by the irresistible momentum of the waves . . . To be dashed against the jagged rocks beneath s

ering her body, gazed wildly, for a

, understood. They all loved Ootah-none dared, none could speak. Silent, grief-stricken, they turned away

e-nothing. On the aureate

solemn eyes seaward; for the moment s

waters-rose from the melting floes. A strange spell seemed suddenly to have fallen over the earth. Out on the ocean the great bergs, which had majestically moved southward like the pha

aves seemed resolved into the solemn so

n the soul of Annadoah. And to her in that magical spell the spiri

saw her watery green and wondrous tresses of uncombed hair. She saw the nebulous shadow of the dreaded Kokoyah, the p

losions, and in the brief succeeding interval there was an unearthly silence. Then a grinding crash rent the air. The spirits of the mountains had engaged in combat. And in the swift downward surge of the glacial avalanches Annadoah saw tribes wiped from existence and villages swept into the sun-litten sea. Bu

fate, against the forces that weave the loom of life wi

kness and death. Annadoah felt that instinctive fear which humanity has felt from the beginning-the superstitious terror of tribes who confront extinction, in the face of famine; the quiet white tremor of the hard working hordes of modern cities in the face of poverty and starvation;

cting the glory of the sky, there w

be defeated asserted itself. Annadoah called upon Nerrvik, for surely Nerrvik was kind to men. She p

sea, lift Ootah unto me! Thou who art kind to man and givest him fishes fro

ains, how he had braved the hill spirits, how they struck him in the frigid highlands, and how the beneficent quilanialequisut had brought him home. Her exquisite voice rose to a splendid crescendo as she described that valorous adventure, and in the chant ran the motifs of the hill spirit's anger, the brave leaping steps of Ootah, the tremor of the mountains as they were struck, and the deep tenderness o

ted, after each statement of Ootah's bravery, her

ast cast into the depths by those thou didst love, thou whose heart achest for affection-hear me, hear me,

h Ootah; she knew now that he had used her to rob her people, that his heart was as stone. Ootah, she had once said, had the heart of a woman; but now she realized the difference between them. She knew the arms of Ootah were strong, that the words of Ootah were true, that the heart of Ootah was kind. And she felt stirring in her bosom things she could not express; a vague comprehension of the pure spirituality of the man who had died to save her child, a response to the love that had st

her heart as a frozen bird in wintertime-but her heart was only sleeping! And n

breasts. She bent over the sea and li

of every animal did he kill; and great was his love for Annadoah. Even the spirits had marvelled and spoken of it among themselves; but Annadoah had chosen

e called upon all the spirits of the winds and air. In a tremulous, heart-broken plaint she f

peated to her, as in mockery, all that she had told them that Ootah had done, of his mighty love for her; but nevermore might she soothe his injured limbs, nevermore might she touch his gentle hands, nev

ining sun. In the midst of that wild golden-burning desolation, Annadoah felt her utter

n who had perished, the tribe stood murmuring. In their hearts was no lit

her feet her tears fell like rain. For the heart of Annadoah ached. Nothing in the world

, an instinctive wild-world-understanding of that tragedy of all life, of all the universe perchance-of that unself

she wrung her hands toward the sun, the eternal ma

I-o-h-h-h! I-o-h-h-h, Sukh-eh-nukh! I-o-o-h-h, Sukh-eh-nukh! Unhappy sun-unhappy s

alone. To the north the sky darkened with one of those sudden arctic storms which come, as in a moment's space, and blast the tender flowers of spring. A c

nhappy sun-unhappy

gentle benediction of feathery flakes of gold-over and about the dark,

y her husband made a forty-mile journey during winter to a spot south of her village where a child, some years before, had been buried. Th

sed a terrible storm at sea. Water filled the boat in which Nerrvik was escaping. When they realized that Nerrvik was the cause of the storm her brothers cast her into the sea. With one hand she clung to the boat; her grandfather lifted his knife and struck. Nerrvik descended into the ocean and became the queen of the fishes. Possessing only one hand she cannot plait her hair. A magician

NA

t know-the sun and moon will meet. They will then, having endured loneliness and long yearning, be immeasurably happy, and in the consummation of their desire all mankind will share . . . For as ultimate darkness closes, all who have been true to the highest ideals of the chase will be lifted into celestial hunting grounds, where no one is ever hungry nor where is it ever cold; all who have done noble deeds will be hailed as celestial heroes. He who died to save another will attain immortal life; he who gave of his substance to feed the starving will find ineffable food and in abundance; he who loved greatly, who suffered rejection uncomplainingly, and wh