by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XII ANCIENT TREASURE
With a hand that trembled slightly, Marian held the candle that was tolight their way in the exploration of the mysterious mountain cavern. Asif drawn by a magnet, she led the way straight to the spot where but afew hours before she had been so frightened by finding herself standingin the burned out ashes and bones of an old camp-fire.
She laughed now as she bent over to examine the spot. There could be noquestion that there had once been a camp-fire here. There were a numberof bones strewn about, too.
"That fire," she said slowly, "must have burned itself out years ago;perhaps fifty years. Those bones are from the legs of a reindeer orcaribou. They're old, too. How gray and dry they are! They are about tofall into dust."
She studied the spot for some time. At last she straightened up.
"Not much to it, after all," she sighed. "It's interesting enough to knowthat some storm blown traveler who attempted the pass, as we did, oncespent the night here. But he left no relic of interest behind,unless--why--what have you there?" She turned suddenly to her companion.
Attatak was holding a slim, dull brown object in her hand.
"Only the broken handle of an old cow-drill," she said slowly, stillstudying the thing by the candle light.
"It's ivory."
"_Eh-eh._"
"And quite old?"
"Mebby twenty, mebby fifty years. Who knows?"
"Why are you looking at it so sharply?"
"Trying to read."
"Read what?"
"Well," smiled Attatak, as she placed the bit of ivory in Marian's hand,"long ago, before the white man came, my people told stories by drawinglittle pictures on ivory. They scratched the pictures on the ivory, thenrubbed smoke black in them so they would see them well. This cow-drillhandle is square. It has four sides. Each side tells a story. Three areof hunting--walrus, polar bear and caribou. But the other side issomething else. I can't quite tell what it says."
Marian studied it for a time in silence.
"Mr. Cole would love that," she said at last, and her thoughts were faraway. For the moment her mind had carried her back to those thrillingdays aboard the pleasure yacht, _The O'Moo_. Since you have doubtlessread our other book, "The Cruise of _The O'Moo_," I need scarcely remindyou that Mr. Cole was the curator of a great museum, and knew all aboutstrange and ancient things. He had done much to aid Marian and herfriends in unravelling the mystery of the strange blue face.
"Bring it along," Marian said, handing the piece back to Attatak. "Ittells us one thing--that the man who built that fire was an Eskimo. It isworth keeping. I should like to take it with me to the Museum when I goback.
"Now," she said briskly, "let's go all over the cave. There may be thingsthat we have not yet discovered."
And indeed there were. It was with the delicious sensation of researchand adventure that the girls wandered back and forth from wall to wall ofthe gloomy cavern.
Not until they had passed the spot where they had spent the night, andwere far back in the cave, did they make a discovery of any importance.Then it was that Marian, with a little cry of joy, put out her hand andtook from a ledge of rock a strange looking little dish no larger than afinger bowl. It was so incrusted with dirt and dust that she could nottell whether it was really a rare find of some ancient pottery, or anordinary china dish left here by some white adventurer. However,something within her seemed to whisper: "Here is wealth untold; here is aprize that will cause your friend, the museum curator, to turn green withenvy."
"_Sulee!_" (another), said Attatak, as she took down a larger object ofthe same general shape.
A few feet farther on was a ledge fairly covered with curious objects;strange shaped dishes; bits of ivory, black as coal; pieces of copper,dulled with age. Such were the treasures of the past that lay beforethem.
"Someone's pantry of long ago," mused Marian.
"Very, very old," said Attatak, holding up a bit of black ivory. "Mebbytwo hundred, mebby five hundred years. Ivory turn black slow; very, veryslow. By and by, after long, long time, look like that."
As Attatak uttered these words Marian could have hugged her for sheerjoy. She knew now that they had made a very rare find. The objects hadnot been left there by a white man, but by some native. Broken bits ofancient Eskimo pottery had been found in mounds on the Arctic coast.Those had been treasured. But here were perfect specimens, such as anymuseum in the world would covet.
And yet, had she but known it, the rareness and value of some of thesewere to exceed her fondest dreams. But this discovery was to come later.
Drawing off her calico parka, Marian tied it at the top, and using it asa sack, carefully packed all the articles.
"Let's go back," she said in an awed whisper.
"_Eh-eh_," Attatak answered.
There was a strange spookiness about the place that made them half afraidto remain any longer.
They had turned to go, when Marian, chancing to glance down, saw the bitof ivory they had found by the outer camp-fire. At first she was temptedto let it remain where it lay. It seemed an insignificant thing after thediscovery of these rarer treasures. But finally she picked it up andthrust it into her bag.
Well for her that she did. Later it was to prove the key to a mystery, anentirely new mystery which had as yet not appeared above their horizon,but was, in a way, associated with the mystery of the purple flame.
"Listen!" said Marian, as they came nearer to the mouth of the cave, "Ido believe the storm is passing. Perhaps we can get off the mountainto-day. Oh, Attatak! We'll win yet! Won't that be glorious?"
It was true; the storm was passing. Attatak was dispatched toinvestigate, and soon came hurrying back with the report that they couldbe on their way as soon as they had eaten breakfast and packed.
Marian was possessed with a wild desire to inspect her newly discoveredtreasure--to wash, scrub and scrape it and try to discover how it wasmade and what it was made of. Yet she realized that any delay for such acause would be all but criminal folly. So, after a hasty breakfast, sherubbed as much dust as she could from the strange treasures and packedthem carefully in the folds of the sleeping bags.
Soon the girls found themselves beside their deer, picking their waycautiously forward over the remaining distance to the divide; then quiteas cautiously they started down the other side.
During the day they halted for a cold lunch while their reindeer fed on abroad plateau, a protected place where they were safe from the wildblizzards of the peaks that loomed far above them.
"From now on," said Marian, "there will be little rest for us. Our boldstroke has saved us nothing. It is now a question of whether reindeer aretrustworthy steeds in the Arctic; also whether girls are capable ofsolving problems, and of enduring many hardships. As for me," she shookher fist in the general direction of Scarberry's herd, "I'll say theyare. We'll win! See if we don't!"
To this declaration Attatak uttered an "_Eh-eh_," which to Marian soundedlike a fervent "Amen!"
