They both laughed uncontrollably at this until they fell helplessly to the snow where they rolled about, sides aching with laughter.

“I like these Erqigdlit,” Kalaleq finally gasped. “They do things that we would never think of.”

“Wake the others. Share the fun. Take the ikkergak. We will have to race to catch him before it grows dark.”

The shouting outside woke Armun. She saw the tent flap thrown back and the Paramutan hurrying and calling out to one another. After the fighting and the excesses of the night before Kerrick had spread his furs between her and the others to prevent any more unwelcome attention. They were thrown back now; he must be outside with the others. She pulled her clothing over to her and dressed under the furs. The Paramutan found the sight of her smooth and hairless skin too interesting and exciting and she did not want any more trouble. When she went outside she saw that one of the ikkergaks was being pushed into the sea. Angajorqaq hurried up, her brown-furred face split into a broad grin.

“Your Kerrick, so funny. While we slept he sailed away in a boat to make us chase him.”

Fear seized Armun. This was not funny, not to her, nor could it have been to Kerrick either. He had not laughed with the others during the night, had scarcely been aware of them, but had been cold and grim, his thoughts elsewhere, and had only stirred to life when one of the Paramutan had pulled at her clothing. Then he had struck with fierce anger, would have killed if she had not pulled him away. This was not a joke. If he had taken the boat it was for one reason alone. He would go south. He would try to find the island; he talked of nothing else.

“I am coming with you,” she cried out as the ikkergak slipped into the sea. “Wait for me—you must wait for me.”

The Paramutan chortled with pleasure as they helped her aboard, trying to touch her body through the thick furs. When she slapped their hands away they laughed even harder. She could not be angry at them because they were so different from the Tanu, laughing at everything and sharing their women.

Armun stayed out of the way while the sail was run up. Nanuaq was at the tiller tacking the ikkergak across the wind. Kalaleq looked up at the set of the sail with a quizzical eye, then loosed a line and tightened it into a new position.

“How will you find him?” Armun asked, looking out at the gray expanse of empty, white-flecked sea.

“He can’t go west into the ocean, go north only ice, so we go south and find him quick because we sail better.” He made the line fast, then tried to reach up under her furs while he talked. She pulled away and went into the bow, away from all of them.