Part 17 (1/2)

”_Eh-eh_,” grinned Attatak.

”And Attatak, bring the deer through the outer door, then close it. They were fed two hours ago. That will do until morning.”

She lighted a candle, gathered up some bits of wood that lay strewn about the narrow room, and began to kindle a fire while Attatak went out after the deer.

For the moment, being alone, she began to think of the herd. How was the herd faring? What had happened to Patsy during those many days of her absence? Were Bill Scarberry's deer rapidly destroying her herd ground.

”Well, if they are, we are powerless to prevent it,” she told herself with a sigh.

As she looked back upon it now, she felt that her whole journey had been a colossal failure. They had discovered the mountain cave treasure, only to be obliged to leave the treasure behind. They had reached the Station in time to talk with the Government Agent, but he had not been able to come with her. Only twenty-four hours before they had reached the cabin of Ben Neighbor, only to find it dark and deserted. He had gone somewhere, as people in the Arctic have a way of doing; and where that might be she could not even hazard a guess. At last, in despair, she had headed her deer toward her own camp. In thirty-six hours she would be there.

”Well, at any rate,” she sighed, ”it will be a pleasure to see Patsy and to sleep the clock round in our own sweet little deerskin bedroom.”

She was indeed to see Patsy, but the privilege of sleeping the clock round was not to be hers for many a day. She was destined to find the immediate future far too stirring for that.

Twenty-four hours later saw Marian well on her way home. Ten hours more, she felt sure, would bring her to camp. And then what? She could not even guess. Had she been able to even so much as suspect what was going on at camp, she would have urged her reindeer to do their utmost.

Patsy was right in the middle of a peck of trouble. Because of the fact that for the last few days she had been living in a realm of exciting dreams, the troubles that had come down upon her seemed all the more grievous. Since that most welcome radio message regarding the proposed purchase of reindeer by the Canadian Government had come drifting in over the air, she had, during every available moment, hovered over the radio-phone in the momentary expectation of receiving the confirmation of that rumor which might send the herd over mountains and tundra in a wild race for a prize, a prize worth thousands of dollars to her uncle and cousin-the sale of the herd.

Perhaps it was because of her too close application to the radio-phone that she failed to note the approach of Scarberry's herd as it returned to ravish their feeding ground. Certain it was that the first of the deer, with the entire herd close upon their heels, were already over the hills before she knew of their coming.

It was night when Terogloona brought this bit of disquieting news.

”And this time,” Patsy wailed, ”we have not so much as one hungry Eskimo with his dog to send against them.”

As if in answer to the complaint, the aged herder plucked at her sleeve, then led her out beneath the open sky.

With an impressive gesture, he waved his arm toward the distant hills that lay in the opposite direction of Scarberry's herd. To her great surprise and mystification, she saw gleaming there the lights of twenty or more campfires.

”_U-bogok_,” (see there) he said.

”What-what does it mean?” Patsy stammered, grasping at her dry throat.

”It is that I fear,” said Terogloona. ”They come. To-morrow they are here. You gave food for a week for a few; flour, sugar, bacon. They like him. Now come whole village of Sitne-zok. Want food. You gave them food.

What you think? No food for herders, no herders. No herders, no herd.

What you think?”

Patsy did not know what to think. Gone was all her little burst of pride over the way she had handled the other situation that had confronted her.

Now she felt that she was but a girl, a very small girl, and very, very much alone. She wished Marian would come. Oh, how she did wish that she would come!

”In the morning we will see what can be done,” was all she could say to the faithful old herder as she turned to re-enter the igloo.

That night she did not undress. She sat up for hours, trying to think of some way out. She sat long with the radio head-set over her ears. She entertained some wild notion of fleeing with the herd toward the Canadian border, providing the message confirming the offer for the deer came. But the message did not come.

At last, in utter exhaustion, she threw herself among the deerskins and fell into a troubled sleep.

She was roused from this sleep by a loud: ”h.e.l.lo there!” followed by a cheery: ”Where are you? Are you asleep?”