“I know how you feel, and I wish we could do something, but it’s useless to hunt blindly for him,” the Corporal replied regretfully. “We must hope he turns up by himself or that some of the Eskimos happen to run onto him.”
“Do you suppose Mistak or some of the other outlaws might have attacked him?” Dick asked falteringly.
“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t possible. I don’t like to think the worst any more than you do. Anyhow, we know Sandy McClaren is pretty well able to take care of himself. There’s no danger of him laying down and dying while he’s an ounce of strength left to find his way back to us.”
Dick was forced to accept this as his only comfort for the present. But as the hours passed and Sandy did not show up, the suspense became unbearable. A host of questions thronged and tormented his worried mind. Could Sandy, if lost, hold out until the moon came up to light the way for him and a searching party? Had Mistak captured him and imprisoned him? Or had the outlaws brutally murdered him?
But one thing Dick was thankful for—the weather remained fair, with no wind, and a temperature as high as fifteen degrees below zero, warm for the Arctic winter.
As the time drew near for the reappearance of the moon, Dick did not sleep at all, but paced up and down on the packed snow in front of his igloo. He was there when the first pale, cold, faint light stole over the snow, and with a cry of gladness, he turned to the bleak horizon, where the edge of a yellow disc had just appeared as the moon rose.
Corporal McCarthy was quickly at Dick’s side. “We can start a search right away now,” said the officer sympathetically. “I’ll have two parties of Eskimos start on in different directions, one led by Sipsa, and one by Constable Sloan. Corporal Thalman can take charge of Moonshine Sam while we’re gone.”
The searching parties were hastily organized, and started off. Corporal McCarthy, Dick and Toma formed a third party. They started out at the beaten path between Dick’s igloo and Moonshine Sam’s. It was from there they were quite certain Sandy had vanished. But the vicinity of the path and the village of igloos was so criss-crossed with tracks that they could make no headway. So, striking out blindly, they headed southward, while the other divisions of the searchers took the remaining three directions.
Outside the vicinity of the encampment where the snow was unbroken, they began walking back and forth, examining every foot of snow for signs of Sandy’s feet.
But the snow was covered by a crust several inches thick, and an ordinary weight made no impression. Despairingly, they kept on, until at last Dick spied something glittering in the rays of the moon. Quickly he ran to the object and picked it up. Renewed hope was expressed in his loud summons of Toma and Corporal McCarthy.