Just then an exclamation from Anteek attracted general attention. He pointed to a mound of snow on the ice a short way to the left of the track which had a peculiar shape.
“Something covered over with snow,” said Cheenbuk, turning the dogs in that direction by the simple but significant expedient of sending his long whip with a resonant crack to the right of the team.
“It is a man,” remarked Nazinred as they drew near.
He was right. On clearing away the snow they found the dead body of a man, some portions of whose costume resembled that of a sailor, though of course none of those who discovered it were aware of that fact.
“Kablunet!” exclaimed Cheenbuk, using the Eskimo term for white man.
How long the poor man had lain there it was not easy to guess, for the body was frozen stiff, so that decay was impossible, but the fact that it had not been discovered by bears argued that it could not have lain long. Its emaciated appearance and the empty sack slung across the shoulder showed that death must have been the result of starvation. There was a short loaded carbine lying beside the body, and in a pouch a flask of powder with a few bullets.
“I think,” said Nazinred, after careful inspection of the remains, “that this is one of the white men who come over the salt lake in their big canoes.”
“If so,” said Cheenbuk, “we will follow his track, and may come to the big canoe itself; perhaps some of the Kablunets may be yet alive.”
The Indian shook his head.
“Men do not start off alone on a journey to nowhere,” he replied. “The big canoe must have been crushed in the ice, and the men must have started off together to search for Eskimos. I think they must all have died on the way, and this one walked farthest.”