At that moment Florence caught the sound of many Eskimo voices. Then the chorus ceased and she heard the familiar voice of Mr. Il-ay-ok. He continued alone. He was speaking slowly, earnestly. Florence saw a sober look come over each face. In the end, when Mr. Il-ay-ok had finished, they exclaimed in a low chorus: “Ke-ke! (go ahead) All right. All right. We bring ’em.”
“What was he saying?” Florence asked the teacher, who arrived at that moment.
“Il-ay-ok is telling of his airplane ride and how much it was going to cost,” he explained. “They are really quite business-like, these Eskimos. Il-ay-ok told them, since their reindeer had been saved, they must contribute one silver fox, three cross foxes or four white foxes each.”
“And will they?” Florence was interested.
“Sure. Didn’t you hear them say, ‘All right’?”
“But truly there is no need.” Florence was struck with a sudden thought. “There is money in the bank at Nome, enough I am sure. It’s the part earned by Il-ay-ok’s team when I won the dog race. Tell them about it, will you?”
There was little need of telling them in Eskimo, not a man of them but understood about money, even when told in English. But, like every other people, Eskimo love to be told in their own language. So the teacher told them.
If Florence needed any reward for her honesty and fair dealing, it came to her from the change of looks and the sudden exclamations of the natives as they heard the rare news.
“Mat-na! Ah-ne-ca!” they exulted. Then, “Na-goo-va-ruk Along-meet!” (Good for the white one) rose like a grandstand cheer.
“It’s all right,” Florence laughed. “I had my share and a lot of fun besides. And Merry Christmas to you all.”