A TEEASUKY OP ESKIMO TALES 



had killed their young. Quickly they saw the 

 brave hunter beside the great stone, and the 

 mother bird swooped down upon him, her wings 

 sounding like a gale in a spruce forest. Swiftly 

 fitting an arrow to the string, as the eagle came 

 down the hunter sent it deep into her throat. 

 With a hoarse cry she turned and flew away over 

 the hills far to the north. 



The father bird had been circling overhead and 

 came roaring down upon the hunter, who, at the 

 right moment, crouched close to the ground be- 

 hind the stone, and the eagle's sharp claws struck 

 only the hard rock. As the bird arose, eager to 

 swoop down again, the hunter sprang from his 

 shelter and drove two heavy war arrows deep un- 

 der its wing. Uttering hoarse cries of rage, and 

 spreading his broad wings, the thunderbird 

 floated away like a cloud in the sky, far into the 

 northland, and was never seen again. 



Having taken blood vengeance, the hunter 

 went down into the nest where among ribs of old 

 canoes and other bones he found some fragments 

 of his wife, which he carried to the water's edge 

 and, building a fire, made food offerings and 

 libations of water such as would be pleasing to 

 her ghost. 



102 



