They made good time that morning, although toward noon the boys noticed that the water was becoming more and more thickly blocked with ice so that in some places it seemed nothing short of a miracle that they were able to get through at all.
Again and again they thanked the lucky stars that had given them the experienced and friendly old Eskimo as their guide.
When they finally stopped to rest and eat from the generous lunch Kapje’s wife had put up for them, they could see by the Eskimo’s placid expression that he was well-pleased with the progress they were making.
As Kapje and his son talked together in their own language, the boys wandered off a little by themselves, in order to talk over what was uppermost in their minds—the treasure.
“We ought to find it pretty soon, now,” Billy said in low, excited tones.
“If we find this Mooloo, we may,” said Mouser. “But by the time we reach his igloo he may have gone. You know what Kapje said, when an Eskimo gets tired of one place, he trots on a bit and makes a new snow palace.”
“Down with the gloom hound!” cried Fred, indignantly. “What’s the use of looking for trouble?”
“Kapje’s been mighty white to us,” said Bobby thoughtfully. “If we ever do find the treasure you can bet he and his family are going to be mighty glad of it.”
At the mention of the Eskimo they realized that they had wandered away further than they had intended and turned to go back. They hastened their steps, thinking they might have kept their guides waiting.
As they reached the clearing where they had left the two men, some instinct, some feeling, warned them of danger, cautioning them to proceed quietly.