“It is not so,” broke in Joe fiercely. “We do not rob the people. Instead, we trade with them, and give them good things in exchange. We are the friends of the people, as you well know. We are truly their brothers, as you call us in derision. But have a care. The white men are very many. They are more than the grass in summer in number. They are very wise, and can see far. Have a care how you punish us. The great chief of the white men will know of it, and will send his thunder ships to punish you, if you do us harm. If you do not set us free, there shall be no more Ankuts among the tribes. The great white chief will see to that.” Thus spake Joe, indignantly and fearlessly. Harry thought him very handsome as he stood erect and thus poured out defiance at his armed enemies; but he could not help wondering what the effect would be and whether such talk was wise. He was surprised to see the apparent change in attitude of the Ankuts after it was made. They looked at one another in silence. Then the half-breed spoke again. “What my white brother says may be true. Yet the white chief is a long way off, and the Ankuts are very near, if they choose to punish. Still, a feast is better than a fight. What say you?” he said to the other Ankuts, looking from one to another with his evil smile still on his face. “Shall our white brothers suffer punishment, or shall we bid them to a feast?” The same smile seemed to run around the circle of Ankut faces, and they all wagged their heads vigorously. “It shall be a feast!” they affirmed in unison, and there was something sinister in their satisfaction in this change of programme. Harry poked Joe with his elbow. “Great Scott!” he said in a low tone, “but we are pulling out of this in great luck.” His knees ceased to feel weak under him, and he had great admiration for Joe’s boldness, which had seemingly brought this happy change about. But Joe did not altogether share his delight. “I don’t know about this,” he replied in an equal undertone. “They don’t look very feasty.” It was a fact that they did not, nor did the listening drudges who stood outside the circle. A certain wide-eyed horror seemed to pierce their stolidity and apathy, and their faces, as they looked at the boys, showed it. The two wizards who had brought them out conducted them back to the igloo with much ceremony. “Our brothers will rest here,” they said, “while the feast is prepared for them. It will be a great feast,—and there will be nothing but the bones left when it is over.”