Part 15 (1/2)
”Sur-re, they niver wuz caught! They got to the Ignatook; that's phwat these haythen call th' creek av th' bilin' wather--an' they fear-r ut.
Niver a man av thim will go into ut's valley. They say ut's divil-ha'nted. Th' wather's black an' bilin'--an' ut stinks. Ut's pizen, too; av ye dhrink ut ye'll die. They's a pile av bones, an' man-ny a skull ar-round th' owld copper mine. 'Twuz wan av thim Oi shlipped into th' rock cairn, back yondher, hopin' to warn th' fur-rst av th'
shtampede to wait f'r th' rist, phwin th' Injuns robbed th' _cache_.
”Av we kin git to th' Ignatook wid th' dogs, we're safe. Oi've hid there a dozen toimes, but Oi niver c'd make th' outside f'r lack av dogs.
They's sixteen hunder' pounds av caribou mate in th' tunnel, an' sixty percers av fish.
”They've an eye on us, an' Oi'm fear-red they'll misthrust we're plottin'. Wait till tonight, an' Oi'll go now an' make up a fairy shtor-ry that'll satisfy th' owld chayfe about our long palaver-r.”
O'Brien started toward the old shaman, but turned and retraced his steps:
”How man-ny quar-rts av nuggits did ye say?” he asked, as a far-away look crept into his eyes. Waseche Bill answered softly:
”I don't rightly know what nuggets is fetchin' a quaht. But, offhand, I'd say a quaht oah two w'd be a plenty to take yo' clean around the wohld.”
CHAPTER XIV
THE ESCAPE FROM THE WHITE INDIANS
The man, O'Brien, despite the fact that he spent half his time mooning and muttering to himself about quarts of gold and the delights of a torrid clime, proved himself no mean strategist, and his intimate knowledge of the lay of the land and the habits and language of the natives, was invaluable in formulating the plan of escape.
Far into the night the three lay, Connie and Waseche Bill in their sleeping bags under the little shelter tent pitched close against the rounded side of the _igloo_, and O'Brien lying inside the _igloo_ upon his vile-smelling bed of skins with his face to the hole he had bored low in the snow wall.
Their only hope in getting out of the Lillimuit lay in saving the dogs, and it was decided that this could be accomplished only by a quick dash for the Ignatook, which joined the larger river a quarter of a mile to the northward.
On the sleds remained about five hundred pounds of caribou venison, besides a small quant.i.ty of tea, coffee, bacon, and flour.
”Ut's loike this,” concluded O'Brien, when the situation had been carefully reviewed from every slant and angle, ”Oi'll go to owld Metlutak, tomorry, an' Oi'll say: 'Chayfe,' Oi'll say, 'thim dogs is a plinty soight ribbier thin phwat Oi thought they wuz. We can't git no fat onto um insoide av a wake or tin days but we kin hav' th' _potlatch_ jist th' same--ondly we'll hav' _two potlatchs_ instead av th' wan. They is foive hunder' pounds av caribou mate on th' sleds an' we'll hav' th'
caribou _potlatch_ fur-rust, an' th' dog _potlatch_ lather, phwin they've bin give a chanst to lay on some fat.'
”Th' owld b'y won't loike th' caribou so much as th' dog but Oi'll pint out to um that av we use th' caribou fur-rust th' dogs can't shlip along in th' noight an' ate it up on us, whoilst av we kill th' dogs an' lave th' caribou, ye can't tell phwat w'd happin.”
”But the dogs couldn't eat the meat if they were dead!” objected Connie.
”Whisht lad! Th' chayfe don't know no 'rithmetic. Two _potlatches_ is bether thin wan, an' beyant that he ain't goin' to study.
”We'll wor-rk ut loike this: they's about tin pound av mate apiece--no gr-reat glut--but enough to kape um busy afther th' dance. Th' dance'll begin phwin th' sun jist edges yondher peaks, an' wanst they git het to the wor-rk, 'twill kape up till mid-noight. We'll dhrag th' mate over, an' Bill, here, he'll shtand ridy wid his axe to cut ut in chunks, an'
Oi'll toss ut to wan an' another so they'll all git a piece. They'll ghrab ut an' dhrive their har-rpoons into ut so they kin howld ut over th' foir-re an' thaw ut out. They'll ate ut raw off th' ind av th'
har-rpoons--'tis a gr-rand soight!
”Now, her-re's phwere th' b'y comes in: as soon as Bill shtar-rts choppin' mate, ye must shlip over here an' har-rness th' dogs f'r all ye're worth. Ye must finish befoor th' mate's all doled out. Hav' th'
loight grub an' th' robes an' shlapin' bags on th' sleds, but lave th'
tint shtand. Lave th' roifles in th' pack; they've niver kilt me, an' Oi won't see har-rm come to thim--but av Oi c'd git a good cr-rack at wan or two wid me fisht, 'tw'd aise th' mimry av thim, twinty-wan toimes they've dhrug me back over th' tundra.
”Wanst their har-rpoons gits dhrove into th' fr-rozen mate, they'll niver git um out till they're thawed out. They'll be too heavy to run wid, an' be th' toime they kin fr-ree thim, we'll be safe on th'
Ignatook, phwere they wudn't come afther us av they doied fur-rst.