BACK TO SCHAROK 291 
I watched Mekolka with much interest. A strong 
wind was blowing against him, yet he held on his course, 
sitting with his face to the bows. 
Turning a corner he was out of sight, but presently I 
heard a ‘honking,’ and peeping out, there was Mekolka, 
who had turned the. swans, and was pulling after them 
down the lake and gaining every moment. 
Now he stopped, and picking up his bow he slipped 
an arrow at one of the cygnets (they were quite big 
birds) at about twenty yards, as near as I could guess, 
and with such effect that the bird beat the water wildly 
for a moment, and then lay still. 
Now he was opposite to me, and the way he had lost 
in shooting and picking up his bird he was rapidly making 
up. 
He loosed another arrow, and I saw one of the young 
swans flap along for some ten yards, drop its head, and 
lie still, while Mekolka rowing up pulled it into the boat. 
I was astonished that so large and strong a bird should 
succumb so quickly from an arrow wound. 
Then followed an in-and-out chase after the old birds. 
They led Mekolka a pretty dance, but after a time one of 
them headed right for the end of the lake, and ran out 
on to the tundra. 
It was a very long way from me, but I could see it 
running, and after it the two dogs; but well used as they 
were to catching birds they could make little of this, and 
though they turned it once or twice it still ran on. I 
