At last, leaving the cattle in a great yard, surrounded by a stone fence, some five miles from the outskirts, he drove hurriedly into Vladivostok.
CHAPTER XIV
NEARING THE CITY OF GOLD
The creature for which Dave had gone on a double-quick hunt, after the balloon had landed on the desert island, was a reindeer. He had probably crossed over on a solid floe from the mainland. It was his last crossing. Soon Dave came back dragging two hundred pounds of fresh meat behind him.
“No more ‘gold fish’ in cans,” he exulted. “No more evaporated milk and pickled egg. We eat, Jarvis, we eat!”
“That’s fine,” smiled Jarvis, “but what’s all the words you been spillin’ about this bein’ America?”
“Oh!” laughed Dave. “That was something of a joke, though this island really does belong to old U.S.A. Captain DeLong, an American, whose ship was crushed in the ice near this island, was its first discoverer. He claimed it in the name of his country and christened it Bennett Island. It says that in the message he left in his cairn. But that don’t feed us. I’m starved. There’s driftwood on the beach. C’mon.”
Soon they were roasting strips of delicious venison over a crackling fire. Supper over, they lay down with faces to the fire and talked over prospects for the future. The stranger was with them, but had little to say. He seemed puzzled at the unusual circumstances of the journey and was constantly asking when they would return to the native village at the mouth of the river.