They followed the path and soon found themselves on the threshold of the hut. Its door, a clumsy contrivance, was ajar, and littered all about were fish bones, scales, and bones and remnants of animals. A rank odor assailed their nostrils, the true smell of an Aleut settlement.
Tom strode boldly forward and was about to cross the threshold when something dashed out of the hut, making him jump back with an involuntary shout of alarm. For a minute he was sure they had been attacked by whoever dwelt within. His companions, too, echoed his cry, but the next instant they all burst out laughing. What had alarmed them so was a small red fox that had darted off like a flash.
"That shows us no one is inside," chuckled Tom, turning to his comrades. "I guess we've dispossessed the sole inhabitant."
They crossed the threshold and found themselves in a low, smoke-begrimed structure with a dome-shaped roof. In the middle of the roof was a hole presumably for the smoke to escape, although soot hung thick on the rafters that supported the grass-sods, peat and earth that formed the covering of the rude dwelling.
Tom bent and examined a heap of ashes in the middle of the dirt floor under the hole.
"Nobody has been here for a long time," he declared, "except wild beasts."
"I wonder who put it up?" inquired Sandy.
"Trappers, maybe; but most likely Aleuts," replied Tom. "I've seen pictures of their huts and they are very like this one. I never thought we'd have to take up quarters in one, though."
"Hoot! d'ye think we'll have to stay here lang?" asked Sandy.
"Impossible to tell," rejoined Tom. "Of course, as soon as they find we're gone they will start on a search for us; but unless they find those rascally Aleuts they'll never know what became of us, unless they stumble on us accidentally."