by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XVIII
A NEW PERIL
Long hours in the cranny of the cliff Phi was wrapped in heavy slumber.Dressed as he was in deerskin and sealskin garments, he did not feelthe cold. The bed was soft, his "house" well sheltered from the wind.
He awoke at last to start and stare. The sun was painting the peaks ofdistant ice-piles with a touch of pink and gold. He experienced astrange sensation. For one brief moment he fancied himself on themainland of Alaska. This, he realized, was not entirely impossible;the ice-floe might have circled about to carry him near to the coastagain.
So possessed was he with the idea that he grew impatient at the slowbroiling of their one remaining bird. Once the meal was over, havinghidden the bird net in the crevice, that he might return to it in caseof necessity, he hurried away. With Rover at his heels, he crossed theuneven surface of the plateau, keeping well toward the edge of therocky cliff that he might discover a path, if there should be one,leading down to a village or a miner's cabin.
In his mind's eye he pictured himself sitting down to a meal of"mulligan" and sourdough flapjack in some friend's mining shack, and,if this dream came true, how quickly he would shape his course towardthe spot he had been directed to by the ciphered note in the blueenvelope!
"I'd walk in on them like old Rip Van Winkle." He smiled and glancedat his dog.
"You look the part of Rip's dog, old fellow," he laughed; "you surelydo."
Yet, as he thought more soberly, he realized that there was really noreason for supposing that the ice-floe had returned him to the mainlandof America.
"Might be a point of the mainland of Asia," he reasoned. "The peoplewho come here hunting may be Chukches."
Had his mind been less occupied with these speculations he might havetaken note of some movement off to the right of him. As it was, hewalked straight on.
Suddenly a small, dark object flew past his head. Before he could turnto investigate, a second, better aimed, struck him in the side. Caughtoff his balance, he went crashing to the ground. The next moment thedog gave a yelp of pain. He too had been struck by one of these flyingmissiles which proved to be rocks.
Stunned, but not seriously injured, Phi rose upon hands and knees andmade all haste to fortify himself behind a massive bowlder. Growlingdefiance, the old dog crouched by his side.
It was a moment of suspense. What could this mean? Into the boy'smind there crowded many questions. Had he been carried to the shore ofsome island of the far north where the white man had never set foot?Was he about to be attacked by a murderous band of superstitiousnatives? He had seen no one. How many were there and why did they useonly stones for weapons? The bow and arrow are known to the mostignorant savage.
To these questions he could form no answer. He could only crouch thereand wait.
He did not have long to consider what his next move should be, for arock grazed his ear. A quick glance in the direction from whence itcame showed him the form of a single native. Instantly the manvanished, but a moment later a second rock flew through the air. Itcame from exactly the same spot.
"May be only one," he murmured.
Encouraged by this thought, he proceeded to stalk his enemy by hurryingaround the bowlder and peering out at him from the other end.
The ruse worked. He found the man standing in full view, craning hisneck to look around the side of the rock which the boy had just left.
Presently the native took a few steps forward. Phi thought he walkedwith a kind of stagger.
"It's strange he'd have the courage to attack me alone, armed only withrocks," he murmured.
A yelp from the old dog roused him to action. The native's rock hadfound a mark. His back was turned to the boy and with a sudden, swiftrush Phi leaped out and landed full upon his back. The two of themwent crashing to earth.
For a moment the man struggled with almost demoniacal strength, thensuddenly he crumpled in the boy's grasp and sank lifeless to the ground.
Fearing a trick Phi turned the man over and sat upon his chest, pinninghis hands to the ground. But he was unconscious; there was nomistaking that.
"That's queer," perplexedly. "I didn't do anything to him that I knowof. Wasn't thrown hard or anything."
He bent over to gather up a handful of snow with which to rub thenative's brow, when he caught an old, familiar odor.
Just then the dog came limping up. "Rover, old boy," Phi smiled aqueer sort of smile, "we're not beyond the reaches of the civilizedwhite man. This fellow's drunk. Hooch. In other words, moonshine; Ismell it on his breath. That's why he was throwing stones at us.Crazy drunk, that's all. Now he's gone dead on us, like a flivver runout of gas."
The dog smelled of the man and growled.
"Don't like it, do you? Most honest men and dogs don't. Moonshine'sno good for anybody. And now, just for that, we're in for something ofa task. This fellow'd lie here until he froze stiff as a mastodon tuskif we'd let him, but we can't afford to let him, even if he did pelt uswith rocks. We've got to get him on his feet somehow and make him'walk the dog' till he sweats some of that hooch out of him."
As he looked the man over for a knife which might prove dangerous oncehe was roused from his stupor. Phi realized that he was not on themainland of America. This man's costume was quite unlike that of theDiomeders. He wore a shirt of eiderduck skins such as was never seenon the Little Diomede, and his outer garments of short-haired deerskin,instead of being composed of parka and trousers were all of one piece.
"Wherever we are," he said to the dog, "we'll know what's what in anhour or two."
* * * * * *
After witnessing the strange actions of the group of natives as theyclustered in about the boarded-up house, with wildly beating heartsLucile and Marian took their places back a little in the shadows, wherethey could not be seen but could still watch the wild antics of theirstrange visitors.
"What does it mean?" whispered Marian.
"I can't even guess," Lucile whispered back. "Something terriblethough, I am sure."
By this time the entire group were circling the house, and their wildshrill cadent song rose high and loud:
"Ki--yi--yi--um--Ah! Ah! Ah! I--I--I!"
The single dancer tore his hair again and again, and repeated his madgesticulations.
Only one figure stood back impassive--not singing and not taking anypart in the weird demonstration.
Suddenly, at a sign from the wild-haired leader, all the singingceased. He uttered a few words apparently of command, then waved hisscrawny arms toward the house.
A wild shout rent the air. All the natives, save the impassive one,sprang to their feet and started toward their village. But now theimpassive one leaped up and tried to check them, to drive them back.As well attempt to stop a torrent with the open hand. They pushed himaside and hurried on.
The next moment the girls heard a pounding at the door, but dared notopen it.
"What does it mean? What _can_ it mean?" They kept asking one another.
Presently the mad group came racing back. Some bore on their shoulderspoles and boards hastily torn from their caches. Two others werestaggering under a load which appeared to be a sealskin filled withsome liquid.
"Seal-oil!" said Lucile. "What--" and then the full meaning of it cameto her like a flash. "Marian!" she said in an almost inaudiblewhisper, "they mean to burn the cabin. That's what the wood and oilare for--to start the fire!"
The words were hardly out of her mouth when Marian gripped her arm."Look!" she cried.
A dense black smoke was rolling past the window.
Roused by her cry, the crippled Eskimo boy sprang upon his one wellfoot and came hopping toward them.
One look at the smoke, at the madly dancing old man, and he hopped forthe door. Throwing the pole to the floor, he hopped outside and away.
"He's gone! Deserted us!"
"What does it matter now?" Lucile covered her fac
e with her hands.
"But look!" cried Marian.
The boy had hopped out into the howling, dancing circle. The howlinghad ceased. He had tumbled to a sitting position on the snow, but wasspeaking and motioning with his hands. Once he pointed at his bandagedfoot. Twice he put his hands to his mouth, as if to mimic eating.Then he sprang nimbly upon his one foot and would have leaped towardthe now raging fire, but the one who had been first impassive, then hadattempted to restrain the mad throng, restrained him, for the others,leaping at the fire, threw it hither and yon, stamping out with theirfeet the blaze that had already begun eating its way into the building.
It was all over in a minute. Then the two girls sank down upon thefloor, dizzy and sick, wondering what it was all about.
* * * * * *
Phi found that to rouse the native from his drunken stupor was no easytask. After rubbing the man's forehead with snow, he stood him on hisfeet and attempted to compel him to walk. Finding this impossible, heworked his arms back and forth, producing artificial respiration.
At last his efforts were rewarded; the man opened his eyes and stareddully up at him. For some time he lay there motionless. Then, with awild light of terror in his eye, he struggled to his feet and attemptedto flee. His wabbly legs would not support him. He tumbled to theearth, only to try it again. Rover ran barking after him.
"Let him alone," smiled Phi. "As long as he is not in danger ofharming himself, let him work. He's doing as much as we could do forhim. He'll work it out of his system."
In spite of his muddled state the fellow appeared to possess a sense ofdirection, for the boy soon found that he had come upon a narrow pathleading along the cliff at a safe distance from its edge.
As he stumbled forward, the native's falls became less frequent."Sobering up," was Phi's mental comment. "We'll soon strike a placewhere the path leads down the side of the cliff. I wonder if he canmake that alone or will he break his neck?"
Suddenly the man disappeared from view.
"That," said Phi to the dog, "means there's a path leading directlydown, probably to some village. If it is a village there are nativesthere--perhaps hundreds of them. They have seen white men at one timeor another. They may have been badly treated by them and may behostile to them. If one were to judge by the action of this fellow hemust conclude that they are.
"But that cannot influence our action in any way. If we stay up hereand live on birds they'll find us sooner or later. Might as well godown; the quicker the better, too, for this drunken fellow willdoubtless give a weird and terrible account of us."
At that he raced along the cliff-top path and the next moment foundhimself slipping and sliding down a zig-zagging trail which led downthe hillside.
He was halfway down before he caught the first glimpse of the village.Beneath him lay some brown cubes which he knew to be boxlike upperstories to the houses of the natives.
"That settles one thing," he murmured. "They're islanders. Thenatives of Russia build their homes of poles, deerskin and walrus-skin,tepee fashion; the American natives use logs and sod. Only islandersbuild them of rocks."
For a moment his courage failed him. He was a boy on an islandsomewhere in the Arctic, his only companion an old and harmless dog,his only weapon a hunting knife; and he was about to enter a villagefilled with natives.
"Perhaps," he said slowly, looking down into the trusting eyes of thedog, "we had better wait. They may all be on a grand spree. And ifthey are it won't be safe. Whatever they may be when they're sober,they'll be dangerous enough when drunk."
But the peaceful quiet of the village, as it lay there some hundreds offeet below, reassured him.
"Come on, old boy," he said at last, "we'll chance it."
CHAPTER XIX
MYSTERIES EXPLAINED
There was little time left to the girls for wondering after the fireagainst the boarded-up house had been extinguished, for the entirethrong burst in upon them. This time, apparently as eager to welcomethem as they had been a few minutes before to destroy them, they rushedup to grasp their hands and mumble:
"Me-con-a-muck! Il-e-con-a-muck!"
Soon they all filed out again, two of them bearing the boy with thecrushed foot.
Only one remained. He was a young Eskimo with a clean-cut intelligentface. Lucile, by his posture, recognized the one who had championedtheir cause from the first.
"Perhaps you wonder much?" he began. "Perhaps you ask how is this?Sit down. I will say it to you."
The very sound of their own tongue, badly managed though it might be,was music to the two worn out and nerve-wrecked girls. They sat downon the sleeping-bag to listen, while the yellow light of the seal-oillamp flickered across the dark, expressive face of the Eskimo.
He bent over and drew imaginary circles on the floor, one small and onelarge, just as the boy had done with charcoal.
"Here," he smiled, "one island. Here one. This island one house.Here--"
"Where is this island?" broke in Lucile, too eager to know theirposition on the shore of the Arctic to hear him through.
"Yes," he smiled, "this island is here, very small. This one is here,very large." Again the imaginary circles were drawn.
Lucile smiled and was silent.
"This one large island," the native went on, "this one plenty Eskimo.Come to visit some Eskimo. Some live here, these Eskimo.
"Pretty soon come big ice-floe. Wanna cross, these people. Can't.Wanna cross, one boy. Try cross. Broke foot. You see. Come house.Fell down. Think die, that boy. Wanna come in. Pretty soon, opendoor, white women, you. See white women; scared, that boy, too muchscared. Wanna run, that boy. Can't. Pretty soon see white womangood, kind, that one boy. Plenty fix up foot. Plenty eat, that boy.Wanna stay.
"Pretty soon come plenty wind; plenty ice. Wanna cross ice all time,those Eskimo. Now can cross. Cross plenty Eskimo, plenty dog-team.Come this island, one little island. See?"
"Where is this island?" Lucile broke in again.
"Yes," the speaker smiled frankly, "one big island, one little island.Wanna cross people. All cross people."
Again Lucile was silent.
"Pretty soon," he resumed, "see light in Alongmeet's (white man's)house. Wanna know who come island. Look. See two white face inwindow; two white women. Then pretty much scared. One witch-doctor,old man, hair all so," he rubbed up his hair. "Say that witch-doctor,'No come white women this island; too much ice, no come. Spirits come;that's all.' Say that one witch-doctor, 'Must kill white womanspirits; must burn house. Wanna burn house quick.'
"I say, 'No burn; no spirits mebbe. White women mebbe.'
"He say, that witch-doctor, he say, 'No white woman, white spirit,that's all.' All people say, 'Spirit! Spirit! Burn! Burn!' Allwanna burn.
"Me, I wanna stop burn. No can do. Wanna burn. Bring wood, bringoil, all that Eskimo. Pretty soon fire. Wanna come in mine. No cando.
"By and by come that one boy, rush outa cabin; wanna tell no burnhouse. No spirit; white woman, that's all. No burn. He say, thatboy, 'No burn. See white woman eat fish. Spirits no eat fish.'
"Then all the people say quick, 'No burn! No burn!' So no burn. See?That's all."
The Eskimo smiled frankly, as he mopped the perspiration from his brow.
"They wanted to burn us because they thought we were spirits," Lucilesaid slowly; then suddenly, "What do they call this island?"
"This? This one island?" The Eskimo pointed to the floor.
"Yes." The girls learned forward eagerly.
"This one white man call 'Little Diomede.'"
The two girls stared at one another for a moment. Then they laughed.In the laugh there was both surprise and great joy. They weresurprised that in all the drifting of their ice-floe they had beencarried about in a circle, and at last landed only twenty-two milesacross-ocean from their home, on Little Diomede Island, the halfwaystation between the mainland
of America and Russia.
"We live at Cape Prince of Wales," said Lucile. "How can we go home?"
The Eskimo merely shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
"Whose is this house?" asked Marian.
"Government," the Eskimo replied. "Schoolhouse one time. Not now.Not many children. I--I teach 'em a little, mine. Teach 'em in nativehouse, mine."
So there the mystery was solved. They were in a schoolhouse built bythe United States Government, but which was not now being used. Thenatives, always very superstitious, having seen their faces through thewindow, and not believing it possible that any white persons could cometo the island at such a time, had, at the suggestion of the oldwitch-doctor, resolved to burn the house in the hopes of driving thespirits away. When the lame boy had limped into their midst, and hadtold how his wound had been dressed by these white women, and how hehad seen them eat fish, which no spirit can do, according to thesuperstition of the Eskimo, they had been quite ready to put out thefire and welcome the strangers, all the more so since the girls hadbeen kind to one in distress.
Phi's experience in the village of the island upon which he had beencast was more happy than he could have dreamed of. It turned out thatthe native who had attacked him was the only drunken person on theisland. That it was an island, the Big Diomede, he was immediatelyinformed by a young native who had learned English on a whaler.
So it turned out that the two parties, Lucile and Marian and Phi andRover, had been carried about on the ice-floe for three days at last tobe landed on twin islands.
Phi's first thought was for the safety of his former travelingcompanions. When he learned that nothing had been seen of them on theBig Diomede, without pausing to rest he pushed on across the nowsolidly frozen mass of ice which silenced the two miles of ocean which,in summer, sweeps between the two islands.
It was night when he arrived, the night of the strange witch-doctor'sseance. This had all come to an end. The schoolhouse was dark--thegirls were asleep. From a prowling native he learned that the girlswere there and safe, then he turned in for a long sleep.
Next day, much to the surprise and delight of the girls, he walked inupon them as they were at breakfast.
When the story of all their strange adventures had been told Phi drewfrom his pocket a much soiled blue envelope.
Phi first told how he had finally come into possession of the letter,then he went on:
"I--I guess I may as well tell you about it. It's really no greatmystery, no great story of the discovery of gold. Just the locating ofa bit of whalebone.
"You see, my uncle came to the North with two thousand dollars. Hestayed three years. Then the money was gone and he had found no gold.That happens often, I'm told. Then, one day he came upon the carcassof an immense bowhead whale far north on the Alaskan shore. It hadbeen washed ashore by a storm. No natives lived near. The bone ofthat whale was worth a small fortune. He cut it out and buried it inthe sand dunes near the beach. So eager was he to make good at lastthat he actually lived on the gristly flesh of that whale until thework was done. Then he went south in search of a gasoline schooner tobring the treasure away. It was worth four or five thousand dollars.But he had made himself sick. He was brought home from Nome delirious.From his ravings his son, my cousin, gathered some notion of a treasurehid away in Alaska. The doctor said he would recover in time. Hisfamily was in need of money. I offered to come up here and find outwhat I could. His son was to write me any information he could obtain.We had written one another letters in Greek while in college. Wedecided to do it in this case, addressing one another as Phi Beta Ki.
"Apparently my uncle had said too much in his delirium before he leftNome. This crooked old miner, our bearded friend, heard it, and later,somehow, got on my trail.
"You know the rest, except that this letter gives the location of thewhalebone. In the spring I shall go after it."
As he finished, a great, glad feeling of content swept over Marian; shehad been right, had made no mistake; the letter was really Phi's. Nowhe had it and all was well.
The following day they succeeded in finding a competent guide to pilotthem the remaining distance across the Straits, and in due time theyarrived safely at the cabin which had been their home.
Lucile found a new teacher in her position, but for that she did notcare, as she had already decided to spend a month with Marian in Nome,then take the overland trail home.
Marian's sketches were received with great enthusiasm by the Society ofEthnology. Because of her extra efforts in securing the unusualpictures of the Reindeer Chukches, they added a thousand dollars to theagreed price.
Phi's search for the buried treasure was successful, and to him wasgiven the unselfish joy of seeing his uncle, now completely restored tohealth, comfortably set up in a snug little business of his own.
