“For all that,” said Terogloona, staring at her, “they would do anything; anything you say.”
“Go tell them they shall have it,” said Patsy. “Tell them they must drive Scarberry’s herd back to the Come-saw River valley where they belong, and that they may take their flour, sugar and other things along.”
The Eskimos crowded about Terogloona, listened to him in silence until he had finished, then burst into a chorus of “Eh-eh! Ke! Ke Kullemuk, Ke-Ke,” which Patsy rightfully interpreted as meaning that they were ready for the enterprise and that Terogloona was to bring on the reward.
It was a strange line of march that formed soon after. Seven Eskimos, each holding to a strap, at the other end of which a native dog reared and ki-yi’ed, spread out in a broad line, and followed by a sled drawn by the four remaining dogs, they started toward Scarberry’s herd.
As they came closer to the herd, the leaders of the antlered throng tossed their heads and whistled. As they came still closer there sounded the rattle of antler upon antler as the herd backed in upon itself.
The solitary herder, who had been left to watch the herd, looked at the on-coming members of his own race and then shouted at them angrily.
The Eskimos with the dogs marched straight ahead, appearing not to hear the shouts of the angry herder. In less time than it takes to tell it the herd was in full stampede. In vain were the shouts of Scarberry’s herders. In vain their herd dogs sought to stem the flight. The reindeer had scented their ancient foe; they had heard his loud ki-yi. They were headed for their home range, and would not pause until they had reached it. Marian’s hills and tundra were not for them.
As for Scarberry’s herders, they might remain where they were or follow. They chose to follow. An hour later, with a sigh of satisfaction, Patsy saw them driving their sled deer over the broad trail of the herd that had vanished.
“Will they come back?” she asked Terogloona.
“Mebby yes; mebby no,” said Terogloona. “Can’t tell.”