George Tracy Marsh

“ With the emotions of a man suddenly reprieved from a sentence of death, Marcel poled his canoe out into the current. The Eskimos had joined Kovik on the shore behind him, when, warned by a shout from his friend, Marcel instinctively ducked, as a seal spear whistled over his head. Some doubter was testing the magic of the white man.
Seizing his paddle, Jean rapidly crossed the river and secured his precious net; but he was not yet rid of his enemies. If the young men, conquering their fear of his friendship with demons, at once launched their kayaks they could overhaul his loaded canoe. ”

“ The dog, although lashed to the bow thwart, had managed to crawl out of the boat and was struggling with the thongs which held her, when the Huskies came running up. Looking into the birch bark, they turned on each other gray faces on which was written ghastly fear.
The canoe was empty!
The white man they had thought to find a bloodied heap was after all a maker of magic—a friend of demons. Kovik had told the truth. They were lost! Struck motionless by terror, their feet frozen to the beach, the young ruffians awaited the swift vengeance of their enemy. ”

“ Carried by breeze and current, with its whimpering puppy and silent human freight, the craft grounded a half mile below the ambush. The chattering pair of assassins, hurrying toward it were already quarreling over the division of the outfit of the dead man. ”