ON THE ROOF OF THE WORLD 43 



sound as of stiff silk crumpled in vast folds. 

 The man's eyes were keen and steady. In a 

 flash both hands were out of his great fur 

 mittens, which were tied by thongs to his 

 sleeves. The heavy musket leapt to his 

 shoulder, and his eye ran coolly along the 

 barrel. There was a thunderous roar, as of 

 a little cannon. A dense cloud of smoke 

 sprang into the air just before the muzzle of 

 the gun. 



Through the smoke a towering shape, with 

 wide jaws and battering paws, hurled itself. 

 The man leaped to one side, but not quite far 

 enough. One great paw, striking blindly, 

 smote him down ; and, as he fell, the huge 

 bulk fell half upon him, only to roll over the 

 next instant and lie huddled and motionless 

 upon the ice. 



The man picked himself up, shook himself ; 

 and a look of half-dazed triumph went across 

 his swarthy face as he pulled on his mittens. 

 Then he smiled broadly, patted approvingly 

 the old Hudson Bay musket, turned on his 

 heels, and sent a long, summoning cry across 

 the ice towards the igloos at the foot of the 

 Little Hills. 



