The drift was only about fifty yards from the sledges where the dogs were tied, and Dick soon reached it. About to go around the drift and investigate, a weird, low call from behind him brought him to an abrupt halt, the blood congealing in his veins at the strangeness of the sound. He turned and looked back at camp. There came a soft swishing sound from the snowdrift he had been about to inspect, and he whirled to see a dark form bearing down upon him. His startled cry was cut off sharply as something hard descended forcefully upon his head and he went down in the snow, thousands of stars blazing before his eyes.
But Dick had not been knocked entirely unconscious. He lay still a moment until his senses came back to him, feeling the person who had attacked him leap over him and toward camp. Then came the cries of the aroused camp, mingled with the barking dogs, and above all the shriek of a frightened Eskimo, followed by a wail of fear.
Struggling to his feet, Dick saw Corporal McCarthy taking aim at two fleeing figures, and heard his rifle crack. But the policeman was firing into the air, merely to frighten the attackers.
Sipsa was struggling in the strong arms of Constable Sloan, and from the mouthings of the frightened native Dick could make out that Sipsa had seen the “white Eskimo.”
“Where are the drivers?” Dick shouted to Sandy who was standing as if stunned, his rifle held in his hands.
Sandy seemed to regain his wits at that and dived for the Eskimos’ tupik along with Dick. They almost collided with Toma coming out of the tent.
“Um gone,” said Toma, “Um run away when seen um ‘white Eskimo.’”
The truth of Toma’s statement was soon revealed when a search of the camp and the vicinity revealed no sign of the two drivers, other than their tracks in the snow.
“Well,” said Corporal McCarthy, “I guess the ‘white Eskimo’ knows how to scare the wits out of the natives. I don’t suppose there’s any use for us to chase our guides. They’d be of no further use anyway. I hope Sipsa doesn’t take it into his head to follow them when he gets a chance to break away.”
“We’re lucky to have whole skins,” Constable Sloan remarked.