With a wild cry of terror the man turned and fled toward the shore where ice was piled in jagged heaps.
Still panting from his recent struggle, Curlie followed him slowly. He was examining the rifle. It was of a new design, totally unknown to him.
“Good thing he didn’t know I couldn’t fire it,” he breathed. “They say what you don’t know don’t hurt you. Well, that’s one time it did.”
After a moment’s struggle he discovered the rifle’s secret. He smiled as he walked out upon the ocean’s ice.
“Thinks he can hide from me. Guess he failed to notice that in this still, cold air one’s breath rises far above him. He’ll have to stop breathing if he wishes to escape.”
He walked straight toward a high ice-pile and a moment later had the pleasure of seeing a dark object dart away from it.
“I could shoot him,” he told himself. “Deserves it too. Trying to burn those supplies and leave thirty men to freeze and starve! Wonder why he did it? I’ll find out. I’ll tire him out, then capture him. After that I’ll ask him.”
But he never did.
The game of hide-and-go-seek had lasted for two hours, when the man pursued started straight across a broad expanse of ice which was smooth as a floor.
“That looks dangerous—looks like new ice,” gasped Curlie as he threw himself flat down upon it.