Red Rooney by Robert Michael Ballantyne (best sci fi novels of all time txt) 📕

to a secluded spot near the neighbouring cliffs.

"Ippegoo," he said, turning round abruptly; "it is certain that you will never be an angekok."

"I don't want to be one," returned the simpleton quietly.

The wizard looked at him in surprise.

"What do you mean?" he asked sharply.

"I mean that if the torngak you were going to get for me is no better than your own, he is a fool, and I would rather not have him."

This unexpected rebellion of the worm which he had so often twisted round his finger was too much for Ujarak in his then irascible condition. He flew into a violent rage, grasped the handle of his knife, and glared fiercely at his pupil.

Ippegoo returned the look with a quiet smile.

This was perplexing. There are few things more trying to passionate men than uncertainty as to how their bursts of anger will be received. As a rule such men are merely actors. No doubt their rage may be genuine, but the manner in which they will display their anger depends very much on who are their witnesses, and what their opponents. Rage which fumes at some trifling insult, and tears off the coat, resolved on fighting, when a timid wife seeks to soothe, is likely to assume a very different appearance and follow some other course of action when a prize-fighter pulls the nose, and invites it to "do its worst."

If Ippegoo had winced, or stood on the defensive, or stepped back, or shown the slightest sign of fear, it is probable that the strong and lawless man would have stabbed him to the heart in the first impulse of his anger, for the poor youth was well acquainted with all his secrets and most of his bad intentions. But the motionless figure and the smiling face not only surprised--it alarmed--Ujarak. It seemed so unnatural. What powers of sudden onslaught might not lie hidden within that calm exterior? what dynamitic capacities of swift explosion might not underlie that fearless expression?

"Ippegoo," he said, stifling his anger with a painful effort, "are you going to turn against your best friend?"

"My mother is my best friend," answered the youth stoutly.

"You are right; I made a mistake."

"Why does your torngak let you make so many mistakes?"

Again a rush of anger prompted the wizard to sacrifice his quondam pupil, and once more the youth's imperturbable coolness overawed him. Bad as he was, Ujarak could not kill a smiling victim.

"Ippegoo," said the wizard, suddenly changing his tone, and becoming intensely earnest, "I see what is the matter. Angut and the Kablunet have bewitched you. But now, I tell my torngak to enter into your heart, and unbewitch you. Now, do you not feel that he has done it?"

The youth, still smiling, shook his head.

"I knew it," continued the wizard, purposely misunderstanding the sign. "You are all right again. Once more I lay my commands on you. Listen. I want you to go at once and tell Nunaga that _Angut_ wants to see her alone."

"Who?" asked Ippegoo in surprise.

"Angut."

"What! your rival?"

"Yes; my rival. My torngak tells me that Angut wants to meet her-- alone, mind--out on the floes at Puffin Island this afternoon."

"Are--are you sure your torngak has made no mistake?" asked the youth, with something of his old hesitancy.

"Quite sure," replied Ujarak sternly. "Now, will you give her my message?"

"Angut's message, you mean."

"Yes, yes; I mean Angut's message," said the wizard impatiently. "You'll be _sure_ to do what I tell you, won't you?"

"Quite sure," replied Ippegoo, the smile again overspreading his visage as he turned and quitted the spot.

Half an hour later he entered Okiok's hut in quest of Nunaga, but only her mother was there. She told him that the girl had gone off with a sledge along the coast to Moss Bay to fetch a load of moss to stuff between the logs of the hut where they required repairing, and that she had taken Kabelaw as well as Tumbler and Pussi with her.

"That's good," said Ippegoo, "then she can't and won't go to Puffin Island. I said I would tell her that Angut wants to meet her there alone."

"Who told you to tell her that?" asked Nuna.

"A fool," answered Ippegoo, promptly.

"He must indeed have been a fool," returned Nuna, "for Angut has just been helping Nunaga to harness the dogs, and he is now with my husband in his own hut."

This information caused the messenger to shut his eyes, open his mouth, and laugh silently, with evident enjoyment.

"I intended to deliver my message," he said, on recovering composure, "for I promised to do so; and I also meant to tell Nunaga that the message was a _big lie_."

At this amazing depth of slyness on his part, Ippegoo fell into another hearty though inaudible laugh, after which he went off to communicate his news to Okiok and Angut, but these worthies having gone out to visit some snares and traps, no one knew whither, he was obliged to seek counsel of Simek.

On hearing of the plot that seemed to be hatching, that jovial hunter at once ordered his sledge to be got ready, and started off, with two stalwart sons and his nephew Arbalik, for Moss Bay, to warn Nunaga of her enemy's intentions, and to fetch her home. But alas! for even the best laid of human plans.

It so happened that one of the Eskimo youths, who was rather inclined to tease Nunaga, had set a snow-trap for Arctic foxes about two miles from the village. As the spot was not much out of the way, the girl resolved to turn aside and visit the trap, take out the fox, if one chanced to be caught, and in any case set the trap off, or put a bit of stick into it by way of fun. The spot chanced to be only a short distance beyond the place where the wizard had met Ippegoo, but the sea-shore there was so covered with hummocks of ice that Nunaga had approached without being observed by either the wizard or the pupil. It was not more than a few minutes after Ippegoo had left on his errand to herself that she came suddenly in sight of Ujarak. He was seated, as if in contemplation, on a rock at the base of the cliff.

Suspecting no evil, Nunaga stopped her team of dogs. It was her father's best team, consisting of the swiftest and most enduring animals in the village. The wizard observed this as he rose up and approached, rejoicing to think that Fortune had favoured him. And truly Fortune--or rather, God--was indeed favouring the wicked man at that time, though not in the way that he imagined.

In a few moments Ujarak's plans were laid. The opportunity was too good to be lost.

"Where goes Nunaga to-day?" he asked quietly, on reaching the sledge.

"To Moss Bay," answered Nunaga.

"Has Nunaga forgotten the road?" asked Ujarak, with a slight look of surprise. "This is not the way to Moss Bay."

"It is not far out of the way," said Kabelaw, who was the more self-assertive of the two lying sisters; "we go to visit a trap, and have no time to waste with _you_."

As she spoke she seized the heavy Eskimo whip out of Nunaga's hand, and brought it smartly down on the backs of the whole team, which started off with a yelp, and also with a bound that well-nigh left Tumbler and Pussi behind. But she was not quick enough for Ujarak, who exclaimed with a laugh, as he leaped on to the sledge and assumed the place of driver--

"I too am fond of trapping, and will go with you."

He took the whip from Kabelaw, and guided the team.

A few minutes, at the speed they were going, brought them close to a point or cape which, in the form of a frowning cliff two or three hundred feet high, jutted out into the sea. To round this, and place the great cape between them and the village, was Ujarak's aim. The ice was comparatively smooth and unbroken close to the land.

"See!" exclaimed Nunaga, pointing towards the bushes on shore; "the trap is there. That is the place."

Ujarak paid no heed to her. The die was cast. He had taken the first step, and must now go through with it at all hazards. Plying the cruel whip, so as to make the dogs run at their utmost speed, he drove on until the other side of the cape was gained. Then he relaxed the speed a little, for he knew that no shriek, however loud, could penetrate the cliffs that lay between him and the Eskimo village.

Taking up a walrus-line with a running noose on it that lay on the sledge beside him, the wizard turned, dropped the noose suddenly over Kabelaw, and drew it tight, so as to pin her arms to her sides. Almost before she could realise what had occurred, he took a quick turn of the same line round Nunaga, drew the girls together, and fastened them to the sledge. They knew now full well, but too late, that Ujarak meant mischief. Screaming at the utmost pitch of their voices, they struggled to free themselves, but were too well secured for that.

The wizard now glanced at the children. For a few moments he was perplexed. They could be of no use on a long journey, and might be troublesome--besides, they would have to be fed. There was one sure and easy method of getting rid of them. He grasped his knife-handle.

The women observed the movement, and became instantly silent with horror.

But the bold free air of Tumbler and the soft innocent look of Pussi were too much for the wizard. He abandoned the half-formed thought, and, turning to the women, said in a low, stern voice--

"If you cry or struggle again, these shall die."

This was enough. The poor creatures remained perfectly silent and still after that, while the wizard guided the dogs out upon the floes on a totally different route from that which led to Moss Bay.

Coming to a place where the ice had been cut up into many tracks by the Eskimos' sledges during the winter work of traffic to and from the hunting-grounds, Ujarak availed himself of the opportunity to lose, as it were, his own track among the others, so that, in the sure event of pursuit, the pursuers might be effectually baffled. The only point he had to consider after that was the necessity of diverging from the track with such care that the point of divergence should be impossible to find.

In this he was again favoured by circumstances. Having driven at full speed straight out from the land in a westerly direction, he came to a place where the ice had been considerably broken up, so that the old tracks ended abruptly in many places where lanes of water had opened up. A sharp frost had set these lanes and open spaces fast again, and the new ice was just strong enough to bear a sledge. There was some risk