“Kogmollocks— the blackest-hearted little devils alive when it comes to trading wives and fighting,” said MacVeigh to Pelliter, as he came up at the head of the seven little black men. “ Watch the door, Pelly. They’re coming in.”
He stepped into the cabin, and the Eskimos followed. From Pelliter’s bunk Little Mystery looked at the strange visitors with eyes which suddenly widened with surprise and joy, and in another moment she had given the strange story that Pelliter or Billy had ever heard her utter. Scarcely had that cry fallen from her lips when one of the Eskimos sprang toward her. His black hands were already upon her, dragging the child from the bunk, when with a warning yell of rage Pelliter leaped from the door and sent him crashing back among his companions. In another instant both men were facing the seven Eskimos with leveled automatics.
“If you fire don’t shoot to kill!” commanded MacVeigh.
The chief man was pointing to Little Mystery, his weird voice rising until it was almost a scream. Suddenly he doubled himself back and raised his javelin. Simultaneously two streams of fire leaped from the automatics. The javelin dropped to the floor, and with a shrill cry which was half pain and half command the leader staggered back to the door, a stream of blood running from his wounded hand. The others sprang out ahead of him, and Pelliter closed and bolted the door. When he turned MacVeigh was closing and slipping the bolts to the heavy barricades of the two windows. From Pelliter’s bunk Little Mystery looked at them and laughed.
“So it’s you?” said Billy, coming to her, and breathing hard. “It’s you they want, eh? Now, I wonder why?”
Pelliter’s face was flushed with excitement. He was reloading his automatic. There was almost a triumph in his eyes as he met MacVeigh’s questioning gaze.
They stood and listened, heard only the rumbling monotone of the drifting ice— not the breath of a sound from the scores of men and dogs.
“We’ve given them a lesson,” said Pelliter, at last, smiling with the confidence of a man who was half a tenderfoot among the little brown men.
Billy pointed to the door.
“That door is about the only place vulnerable to their bullets,” he said, as though he had not heard Pelliter. “Keep out of its range. I don’t believe what guns they’ve got are heavy enough to penetrate the logs. Your bunk is out of line and safe.”