Blue Envelope

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER XVI

  A FORTUNATE DISCOVERY

  As Phi and his dog reached the top of the cliff and were about to stepupon the uneven, snow-covered tableland which lay before them, theboy's eyes chanced to light upon a strange looking brown mass which layon the rock beneath the shelter of a projecting ledge.

  "What do you suppose that is?" he said to the dog, at the same timestepping aside to examine it. "It's a net," he commented. "Too finefor a fish net--must be a bird net. That'd be good luck for us if itwere summer. Place must be alive with birds then from the looks of allthe deserted nests, but now--now you're no good to us." He kicked thenet contemptuously. "Tell us one thing though," he confided to Rover;"there are people on this island, or at least have been. Natives ofsome kind, they must be, for no white man would have the patience tomake a net of sealskin as fine as that. Question is, were they justcamping here to gather eggs or do they live here? If they live here,what kind of people are they? Well, anyway, let's go see."

  Wearily he dragged his tired limbs up a gentle slope. Wearily the olddog followed on.

  But as they reached the crest the dog became suddenly alert. His earscocked up, his legs stiff, he sniffed the air.

  "What's that, old fellow? Birds? You've a bit of bird dog blood inyou. Lots of leaders have, but I guess you're mistaken. Not birdsthis late in the year."

  He moved forward a few feet, then his mouth flew open, but no soundcame out. Had he seen a white streak flit across the snow? He had.There was another and another.

  Slowly he backed away. Followed reluctantly by the dog, he retreatedto the rocky shelf where lay the net.

  "We may be able to use you yet," he remarked as he picked up an end ofthe net. "If you're not too rotten, you'll serve us a good turn.There are ptarmigan out there. Don't know how many, but enough if wecatch them. Ptarmigan are good too," he smiled at the dog, "good asquail and about as plump. Boy, Oh, boy! won't we feast though if onlywe can catch them? But," he sobered suddenly, "how I'm going to dropboth ends of this net at just the right moment is more than I can tell."

  The net proved to be in serviceable condition. It was some ten yardsby three wide and was of a finely woven mesh. Two ten-foot poles layfarther back under the ledge. One of these was quickly attached to anend of the net, then the net wound upon it. The second stake wasfastened to the remaining loose end.

  Carrying the net to a level stretch at the top of a ridge, he unrolledit, then for a full five minutes stood studying it. At last he turnedthoughtfully to the right and strolled along the net. Suddenlysomething caught his foot and he sprawled upon the ground.

  Rising, he looked at the thing that had tripped him. Then a light ofjoy spread over his face.

  "Creeping willows!" he exclaimed. "The very thing!"

  He spent the next three minutes pulling at long strands of creepingwillows. When he had found two long, strong ones, he left them stillfast to earth at one end and went for his net. One pole he set on endand proceeded to fasten it there by the aid of the creeping willows,guying it to right and left, as a flag-pole is often braced. He thenran out the length of his net and, having pulled it tight, with theother pole perpendicular, he gave this pole a sudden pull and twist,then threw it to the ground. The net went flat.

  "Capital!" he cried. "That will do it."

  Having reset his net he took a long, circular route; he came up at lasta hundred yards from his fence-like net. The dog had followed meeklyat his heels, but now, seeming to sense what was needed, he beganrocking back and forth, first to the right, then to the left. Now andthen a white spot rose a foot or two above the snow to soar forward.The boy's eyes snapped. Here was sport that meant life to him and tohis dog if they won.

  Now they neared the net. His heart beat fast. Suppose the birdsshould rise and soar away? Then all this work would be lost. But theystill ran or fluttered forward.

  "Must be eight or ten of them," was his mental comment.

  Now they were nearing the net. Veering swiftly to one side, the boyraced to the reclining pole. Lifting it lightly he drew the net toposition. So white were the birds that he could scarcely distinguishthem from the snow. But, suddenly, he caught a faint shock. A bird inlow flight had struck the net. With wildly beating heart, he threw thenet to the snow, then went racing down its length.

  "One," he exclaimed, fairly beside himself, "two, three, four." Eachtime he named the count he had drawn a bird from the meshes. At lasthe was to the end and sank down exhausted. The dog was at his side.

  "Rover, old top," he murmured, "four of em; four beauties! We eat, oldtop! We eat!"

  The dog's eyes rolled hungrily, but he did not offer to touch the birds.

  With eager, trembling fingers the boy tore the feathers from two of thebirds, then tossed to the dog the wings, legs and back, reserving forhimself the dark, rich meat of the breasts, a food fit for a king'stable. He cut this off in thin strips and spread it upon a hard-packedbank of snow. The thermometer must stand at ten below. The thinstrips would soon be frozen solid. They would then be almost aspalatable as if they had been cooked.

  With a meal in sight, he found his mind becoming more composed. Histhoughts wandered back to the question of the nature of the land he haddiscovered.

  Little knowing what lay just before him, he munched the frozen stripsof flesh; then, strengthened and enheartened, he began making plans fora night on the newly discovered land.

  A freezing wind swept across the plateau. He must find shelter fromthis if he was to secure the sleep his tired form demanded. After asearch, he found a rocky crevice which, by the aid of some squares ofsnow cut from a near-by bank, he converted into a three-sided house,with the open side away from the wind. From the sheltered sides of thegreat rocks that lay tumbled about here and there, he gathered moss bythe armful and carrying it to his house, made a thick soft bed forhimself and the dog.

  His next thought was of a fire. He had no desire to eat more raw meat,besides he was not unmindful of the cheering influence of even a tinyblaze. The ground was everywhere over-run with creeping willows.These he clipped off with his hunting knife and tied in bundles. Somewere dry and dead. These he kept in a separate bundle. When he had anarmload, he carried them to a spot near the door of the house.

  He had no matches, but this did not trouble him. Cutting off a foot ofa pole used with the net, he split it in two pieces. One of thesehalves he split again and from these smaller pieces he formed the bowand drill of an Eskimo bow-drill. With a tough creeping willow runnerfor a string to his bow, with dry moss for tinder, he soon had, first asmoke, then a blaze. Not long after this, he was turning a carefullypicked and cleaned fowl over a cheerful flame.

  Having broiled this to a turn, he shared it with the dog, then lay downto sleep. Before the sweet oblivion of sleep quieted his achingmuscles, the old haunting questions came back to him, "What land? Whatpeople?" There were but two questions now; the third had beentemporarily solved; they still had a bird for breakfast, and that therewere others to be caught he did not doubt.