“Hurrah! That’s Jack,” he shouted, dancing about in his excitement.
Quickly he repeated the whistle and this time it was answered much more plainly.
“Come on. Let’s go meet them,” he cried, and started off on the run without waiting to see if the others were following.
He met the dog first, and stopped to pet the animal, which almost upset him as he leaped upon him with short barks of joy.
He had hardly started off again before he caught sight of Jack and in another moment the brothers were in each other’s arms. Kernertok was not far behind and came in for his full share of the joyous greeting. Then Tom and Jacques came up and the reunion was, as Jack declared, complete.
They were soon in the little cabin belonging to the Indian, and a few minutes later a fire was sending its cheerful heat through the room. While Kernertok hustled about preparing a meal, the others were busy telling their stories. First Jack gave an account of what had befallen him, and as soon as he had finished, Bob told of the visit to the camp of their enemy in their search for him.
“But what happened to Big—” Jack began, but a warning glance from Bob caused him to stop in the middle of the sentence, and the others did not appear to notice the interruption.
In an amazingly short time the Indian had a meal of bacon and eggs, together with hot biscuits and coffee on the table, and it was a very merry party that sat down and gave thanks to the Giver of all good things.
Soon after three o’clock they said goodbye to Kernertok and started for camp, reaching there just in time for supper. Jacques had declared that he must be off early the following morning for the far North, and although the boys coaxed him to stay another day, he stuck to his purpose.
They were up early the next morning to see him off, and the first sign of the coming day was just showing in the east as the big Frenchman swung his long lash with a crack like a pistol shot over the heads of his huskies.