A stubborn spell of glum and sulky weather setting in saved their lives. Noashak recovered during the second week. She was able to be out when a stiff wind, springing up in the night, at last blew the clouds off, and allowed the sun to rise into a bare sky. It rose so early and shone so long and so fiercely all the ice patches melted, and the snow vanished as if by magic. Taptuna’s home-made, musk-ox runner began to look ill about six o’clock. The little girl had watched it anxiously as it grew softer and softer, and finally doubled down under the weight of the frame and lay sodden and sad on the wet ground.
“That’s your finish!” Kak promised. “You’ll have to leg it along now. No more rides on top of the load—how will you like it, sis?”
Noashak tossed her head. “I can’t walk—I am sick! Daddy’ll arrange something,” she added confidently.
Later she watched the faces of the older people gathered around the useless sleigh.
“Daddy, I can’t walk,” she wheedled, shoving her little hand into his.
“Don’t you worry,” he said, pulling her ear affectionately while she rubbed against him. “Kak and Kommana and I are going to fix up a runner good enough to get us around the river mouth. Run, boy, and tell your friend if he whirls in and helps he can have the old sled for his trouble; we’ll cache it for him down the coast.”
Kak darted off; Taptuna turned to the others.
“I’ve had a look at the bay and we’ve got to leave to-night or give up. One more day like this will mean open water all along the shore.”
Kak soon came back bringing his chum. Kommana thought it a good bargain, though the sleigh was very old; he agreed to do his bit and for a wonder worked, boring holes vigorously till the sweat dripped from his nose and chin. By supper time they had knocked up a substitute runner and everything was packed and ready. After they had eaten, the whole village turned out to see them off, with hearty good will and pleased anticipation of their return with the first autumn snow.
The journey started by a long slow drag over bare ground before the ice bridged the open water from the Rae River and gave them a chance to get out on to the bay. It was hard for everybody; the men and Kak had to help the dogs pull, and Noashak walked with her mother’s hand. Once they touched the ice however, Taptuna packed his small girl in behind the load where a nest had been left for her and where she could be kept dry. She did not find it very comfortable being hauled from hummock to hummock with the men wading up to their knees, dragging the sled out of one rill, over a bump of harder ice, and down across another rill; always having to be careful it did not slip sidewise and dump the passenger into a couple of feet of water. Still, it was better than trying to walk on her short legs. They were all cheerful about their trouble and had lots of fun, roaring with laughter when either of the team slid off the ice into the water and had to swim for it, as frequently happened, for Eskimo dogs are not very tall.