by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XIV A STRANGE SIGHT
Before leaving his shelter Curlie hacked from the quarter of caribou meata piece the size of a roast. This he managed to tie to his back. He thenfaced up the hill and, having reached the top, scrambled and slid to thevalley beyond.
A wild battle with the storm followed. Panting, freezing, aching in everymuscle, yet doggedly determined, he fought his way from hilltop tohilltop.
"Ought to be getting near the place," he told himself as he found himselfin a valley broader than any other he had crossed. "Nothing looksfamiliar. Can't see far. Blamed snow keeps blowing so."
Suddenly he stopped short. A black hulk loomed just before him. His heartskipped a beat? What was it? A cabin? Some Indian's hut? A miner's shack?What a boon in a wild night such as this!
He was not left long in doubt. Pressing eagerly forward for twenty yardshe at last paused to exclaim: "Willows! Just willows with dead leaveson!"
But willows were something. They meant a shelter from the blasts of windwhich had been slowly beating the life out of him. They meant, too, apossible fire.
"I'll just get into them and see what can be done," he mumbled as he oncemore beat his way forward.
So great was the relief from getting away from the knife-edged wind thathe felt there must be somewhere among the willows a hidden fire.
"Might make one, at that," he told himself.
Struggling through the dense growth, he came at last to an open spot somefive yards in diameter which, he decided, was probably a frozen pool.About this the willows grew to a height of eight feet. The protectionfrom the gale was complete.
"I'll camp here till it blows over!" he thought as he began cutting downsome slender willows with his sheath knife. These he spread on the smoothsurface of the bare spot. Above them he built a tent-shaped shelter withonly one end open. This completed, he began making a pile of dry twigsand leaves. Over this at last he piled larger, green branches. Finally hedug down in the soft snow to where deep beds of mosses lay. These weresoft and dry.
"Good tinder," he murmured as he unwrapped a package of matches andstruck one of them.
Soon he had a crackling fire.
"That's better," he chuckled. "Much better! Might even do a littlecooking."
Chipping off strips of frozen meat, he sharpened a twig and strung themupon it. These he held before the fire until they were done to adelicious brown.
"Mm!" he exulted. "Couldn't be better! I only wish the other boys hadsome. Wonder just where they are now."
Had he but known it, they were camped in the other end of this willowclump, not a quarter of a mile away. Five minutes' walk down the frozenstream would have brought him to them. But they had allowed their fire todie down and had crept into their sleeping-bags. No smoke came from themto him and the smoke from his fire was blown directly away from them; sothey passed the night in ignorance of their close proximity to eachother. When morning came they took courses which carried them milesapart.
As for Curlie, when morning broke and he found the storm had passed, heat once made his way to the top of the hill to reconnoiter. There strangethings awaited him.
As he reached the crest of the hill he beheld, apparently on the ridgejust beyond, a sight which caused his pulse to quicken. He saw two dogteams moving along at a steady walk. There were seven dogs in the firstteam and eight in the second. They were hitched white man fashion, twoand two abreast. The sleds of the long, basket type were well loaded.Atop the first rode a powerfully built man, dressed in an Eskimo parka.On the second sled, with back to Curlie, rode another person. Dressed asthis one was in an Eskimo costume, one might have said he was looking ata small Eskimo man, a woman or a girl.
"The outlaw and the Whisperer," he murmured.
Involuntarily his feet moved forward. To approach them alone would seemmadness. Yet, so great was his desire to unravel their secret that beyondquestion he would have risked it. But a strange thing happened at thatmoment.
The sled party had come to the end of the ridge. They should naturallyhave gone gliding down the slope but, to Curlie's vast astonishment, theymoved straight on into thin air.
"What"--his mouth flew open in astonishment.
The next instant he laughed.
"A mirage!"
And so it was. As he focused his eyes closely upon the scene he coulddetect the faint outline of the long ridge upon which the party wasreally traveling.
"Might be forty miles away," he told himself, "and I was going to stopthem. Well, anyway," he mused, "it's a glimpse that may aid us in thefuture."
He set himself to studying every detail of the equipment--dogs,harnesses, sleds, clothing, everything. He even sat down on the snow andtraced on an old envelope with the stub of a pencil the picture as he sawit.
Then, suddenly, the sleds dropped from view.
"Light changed or they came to the edge of the ridge," he told himself.
Left to his own thoughts, he began to doubt that this was the outlaw andhis companion. There were natives in this region. These people had beendressed as natives. True, the dogs were hitched white man fashion and thesleds were white man type, but the Eskimo had learned many things fromthe whites; they took pleasure in imitating this superior race of people.
"No," he said to himself, "it might not have been them. I don't reallyknow that the Whisperer exists at all. I don't--"
He paused suddenly, to stare away to the left of him where was anotherstream and a second long clump of willows. The wind had dropped to awhisper. The air was keen and clear. From the midst of this clump ofwillows, straight up a hundred feet there rose a thin, pencil-like columnof white vapor which appeared to be smoke.
"Now who," he asked himself, "can be camping down there?"
His heart beat fast. Was it Jennings and Joe? He would see.
Hurriedly, yet with utmost caution, he made his way down the hill towardthat clump of willows from which the thin column continued to rise.