Morrow, too, recognized the danger of overloading a stomach long deprived of food, took hold of the meat and tore it away from the Eskimo.
"But surely they'll let him eat more later?" asked Moira of Mrs. Morrow in a hushed tone.
Seymour spoke rapidly to the missionary, asking him to go to the trading post for the interpreter. In some way, the Eskimo grasped the gist of this request.
"Avic, he speak them Engleesh," was his surprising statement.
"Then tell me, where you get this gun?" Seymour demanded. "Where is the red coat that owns him?" Unwittingly he had fallen into the broken speech of the few natives who know other than their own tongue.
Avic grinned widely, showing ivory fangs, in the openings between which shreds of meat still hung.
"Him hungry all same me," he said. "Him out there——" He gestured to the front door which one of the women had closed. "——stay by sled."
Something about this reply seemed to tickle the native for he laughed until the loose folds of his parkee rippled. Neither Seymour nor Morrow waited to learn the reason for the mirth, but dashed out the door.
In the furrowed trail they found La Marr, holding the dogs with difficulty, for they recognized they were at trail's end. The constable was in his sleeping bag which was lashed to the koinatik. He had "stay by sled" for an excellent reason. His leg was broken.
"Well, Charlie, I see you got your man," said Seymour, by way of being cheerful, as he steadied the sled which the dogs, under Morrow's guidance, were pulling up the bank into the yard.