But a search of the igloos disclosed no Sipsa. The boys shouted his name, but only a faint echo from the wall of the ridge answered them.
“Here are the harpoons he was working on when we left,” Sandy announced presently, after they had looked more carefully about the camp.
“Yes, he must not be far away, but still——” Dick’s mind turned to the trouble they had had with Okewah and Ootanega. “I wonder if he found some sign of the white Eskimo and was frightened away like the others.”
“But Sipsa didn’t seem so superstitious as those two,” Sandy contended.
“I thought so, too, until now. Anyway, we’ll not worry about it until we get something under our belts to worry on.”
Sandy volunteered to act as cook and with the addition of the fresh eider duck eggs he had gathered, a very satisfying meal was prepared.
Sipsa had not yet put in an appearance when the boys finished the last scrap of food, and Dick suggested they search farther for him.
“Maybe um white Eskimo git him,” Toma suggested gruesomely.
“You might be right,” Dick replied. “It would be just like that villain to ambush our guide. But I believe Sipsa was pretty well able to take care of himself. He seemed much smarter than the average native, and I believe he’s more civilized.”
Sandy chose to stay behind when Dick announced that someone must watch the camp while they sought the whereabouts of Sipsa, and Dick and Toma started off with their rifles. At first they circled the entire camp, looking for the prints of Eskimo sealskin boots or his snowshoes. They found no signs, however, and came to a halt on the sledge trail made by the policemen hours before.