Now he turned his attention to it. Tuning it to 200, their agreed wave length, he listened in while Jennings fried caribou steak.
“That’s a rare treat,” said Jennings as he set his teeth in a juicy morsel. “It’s surprising how you can keep a liking for caribou and reindeer meat. In ’98 we came in four or five thousand strong over the trail from Valdez. We each had sixteen hundred pounds of kit and grub which cost us about four hundred dollars. With that food and the fish and game we got, we lived up here a year and a half. Think of it; a year and a half on a sled load of grub.”
“Did you find much gold?” asked Joe.
“Not many of us did. Most of us went back to the States poorer than when we came. That is, we did as far as money goes, but in other ways we had gained much. We had learned how to live without the white man’s luxuries. We had learned to face danger, hardship and even death with a smile. We had lived hundreds of miles from doctors, drugs and nurses, and yet most of us came out of it, brown, sturdy, hard-muscled, keen of nerve and of mind, ready for anything that life might hand us. That’s the pay men get for daring a wilderness.”
“Sh—”
Joe held up a warning finger. He was getting something out of the air.
He knew at once that it was not Curlie speaking, yet he felt sure it was important. It came from the north.
“Steamship Torrentia. Munson, the explorer, speaking.” Joe thrilled at the sound of that name.
“Torrentia - crushed - by ice,” the voice went on. “Sinking - by - the - bow. Position about - one - thousand - miles - due - north - of - Flaxman - Island. All supplies - unloaded - on floating - ice pans. Shall attempt - pole - by plane. Later - return - by plane - to Flaxman. Must - have - transportation - for thirty - men from - Flaxman. Authorize - any necessary expense.”
The message ended, Joe sat wrapped in deep thought.