And so, with the mysterious child under the deck at
his back, and the mysterious dead man lying in the boat at his feet,
and his own skiff trailing behind, Abel, with a strong arm and a stout
heart and a head filled with perplexing questions, rowed the mysterious
boat to the low ledge of rocks that served as a landing place on
Itigailit Island.
Of course Mrs. Abel Zachariah, keenly interested in his quest of the
prize, was there to meet him, and looking into the boat she saw the
ghastly passenger and was duly shocked.
"The man has been killed!" she exclaimed, stepping backward as though
afraid the thing would injure her. "It is a boat of evil! Come away from
it! Why did you bring it in from the sea?"
For answer Abel reached beneath the deck, lifted out the child, and
stepping ashore placed it in Mrs. Abel's arms.
"A boy," said he. "God sent him to us and he is ours."
Mrs. Abel was taken completely by surprise. For a long moment she
looked into the child's flushed and feverish face, and it looked into
her round and eager face, and smiled its confidence, and from that
instant she took it to her heart as her own. She pressed it to her bosom
with all the mother love of a good woman, for Mrs. Abel Zachariah,
primitive Eskimo though she was, was a good woman, and her heart was
soft and affectionate.
The child was ill and neglected. It was evidently suffering from
exposure and lack of nourishment. Mrs. Abel's instincts told her this at
a glance and forgetful of all else, she hurried away with it to the
tent.
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