“Well, it looks like I might be right about what I said a while ago,” Sandy finally turned and said to Dick.
“That spear did take the words out of my mouth,” admitted Dick, “but we can’t be sure yet. Anyway, this is the first bit of excitement we’ve had on this freezing trip.” He shivered a little as he looked at the spear. “Whew! That thing didn’t miss me more than four feet!” he exclaimed. “His aim must have been for you and me, Sandy.”
“Looks like him Eskimo spear.” The low, throaty voice was that of Toma, who had so faithfully stood by Dick and Sandy on their previous adventures in the north. The boys turned to find the young Indian examining the weapon carefully.
“Eskimos!” The magic word leaped to the lips of Dick and Sandy almost simultaneously.
Dick called to the policeman, who was repairing a trace on the dog harness. “Mr. Sloan, when are we going to see some Eskimos?”
“Can’t be long, lad, but——” Constable Jim Sloan’s statement was cut off by a loud shout from the top of the ridge. All eyes were turned upward, and Dick and Sandy whistled. Bearing down upon them was Corporal McCarthy accompanied by a strange figure.
“It looks like you boys’ll see an Eskimo sooner than I thought,” resumed Constable Sloan, as he watched the Corporal draw nearer with a small man, swathed in furs, walking a little ahead at the point of the officer’s rifle. It was apparent that a captive had been taken.
“Got him easy,” called the Corporal as he came up. “He was hiding behind a lump of ice and thought I’d pass him by. He’s an Innuit alright.”
“A what?” Sandy turned to Dick.
“Innuits is what the Eskimos call themselves,” replied Dick, eyeing the captive curiously. “It means ‘the people.’ I read a lot about the Eskimos in school. Look, he has another spear.”