Part 21 (2/2)
The food supply was growing lower with every meal. Six cans of the unknown fruits and vegetables had been opened and with all the perversity of unknown quant.i.ties had turned out to be fruit, pleasing but not nouris.h.i.+ng.
”There's some comfort in knowing that there are other people on the island, at that,” Lucile had argued. ”They've probably got a supply of food and, rather than starve, we can cast ourselves upon their mercy.”
”How many of them do you suppose there are?” Marian suddenly looked up from her book to ask.
”Only saw one,” answered Florence, ”but then of course there are others.”
”Strange we didn't see any tracks when we went the rounds of the island.”
”Snowed the night before.”
”But people usually have things outside their igloos; sleds, boats and hunting gear.”
”Not when they're in hiding. There might be fifty or a hundred of them.
Nothing about an igloo shows unless you chance to walk right up to the entrance or the skylight. And we didn't. We--”
She broke off abruptly as Lucile whispered. ”What was that?”
She had hardly asked the question when the sound came again--a loud trill. It was followed this time by a musical:
”Who-hoo!”
”I never heard a native make a sound like that,” exclaimed Lucile, springing to her feet.
”Nor I,” said Marian.
”Sounds like a girl.”
Throwing caution to the wind the three of them rushed for the door.
On reaching the deck, they saw, standing on sh.o.r.e, a very short, plump person with a smiling face. Though the face was unmistakably that of a white girl, she was dressed from head to toe in the fur garments of an Eskimo.
”h.e.l.lo there,” she shouted, ”Let down the gang plank. I want to come aboard.”
”Haven't any,” laughed Florence. ”Wait a minute. You climb out on that old tree. We'll pole the yacht around beneath it, then you can drop down on deck.”
”What a spiffy little cabin,” exclaimed the stranger as she entered the door and prepared to draw her fur parka off over her head. ”I wasn't expecting company. When did you arrive?”
”Came in with the ice-floe,” smiled Marian.
”Are--are you a captive?” asked Lucile suddenly. ”And--and do they make you live with them?”
”Captive? Live with whom?” the girl's eyes were big with wonder.
”The Negontisks.”
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