“I had supposed he would.”
“He doesn’t want to. The finding of his long lost partner and the green gold has obsessed him for years. It is natural that he should want to go on. But he is deeply religious and, what is better, has a great heart. There are those who suffer. It is possible for him to give them aid. Duty calls. He must go.”
“But only three of us!” said Johnny. “How can we help? We may starve, ourselves. In their ignorance, superstition and great need they may attack us.”
“We have eight bows between us,” the girl said quietly. “A bow weighs very little. We always carried a good supply. Never as many as now. Providence must have directed us. We have many arrow points. Thongs, feathers, material for shafts may be had in the wilderness. A bow is a precious thing. Its wood must be of the best and seasoned many months. We are fortunate in having so many.”
“After all, we can use but three bows at a time,” Johnny said.
“Grandfather believes that there are old men among the Eskimos who have been archers and have not forgot. If he can arm these with our extra bows, if we can somehow ambush the caribou when they come, we may save those starving ones yet.”
Johnny looked at her in silence. His mind was in a whirl. Here was an old man and a girl who but a few days before, as if guilty of some crime, were hiding in the brush. Yet, at this moment they were planning a long and dangerous journey far out on the tundra in the hope of saving the lives of a few half savage people.
“Queer folks,” he told himself.
“So here we are,” the girl went on after a moment’s silence. “In an hour we shall be on our way. Before us is the wilderness, after that a river, the land of little sticks and the silent, white tundra. We carry only our precious bows and arrows. It seems a foolhardy and futile undertaking.
“But think!” Her voice became vibrant with emotion. “Unless someone comes to them, men, women and cute little brown babies will starve—starve!”