It was true then! Kak’s heart pounded. A queer feeling shot all over him, up and down his spine from his hair to his heels.
“Aren’t you—aren’t you scared?” he blurted out.
The Kabluna turned, eyed him searchingly, and laughed. “Good gracious, no! But of course if you are—if you feel jumpy, my boy, stay here and I’ll come back for you.”
The young hunter flushed. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything!” he cried, and moved on in front.
They struck across the valley at a wide angle calculated to head off the strangers. Kak led boldly for the first mile; but long before the parties actually met he had discovered an excuse and lagged behind.
The Indians were not a bit what he expected. They all wore white man’s clothes, and one of them talked fluently with Omialik. In vain the boy’s nervous glances searched them for a feather or a scalp or tomahawk, or any sign of their wild and wicked nature. How he wished he could understand what was being said! While their comrade made speeches the other two strangers sat down on a log. The Eskimo watched them out of the corner of his eye. They were very dark-skinned, these men, and had terribly fierce faces, heartless faces. He noted uneasily that through all the conversation neither the Indian nor Omialik laughed once.
The Kabluna had been lucky with his hunting and was carrying deer ribs; the Indians, it appeared, were not so fortunate. By and by Omialik asked Kak to make a fire. Keeping his glance as much as possible on the treacherous foe, the boy set about his job. But when the fellows sitting down saw what he was doing, they offered to help. It is difficult to remain afraid of any one willing to assist you in a small domestic task. By the time they had a fire lit and the deer meat turning on sticks before it everybody’s tremors were mostly gone.
“Kak,” said Omialik, “the strangers are quite as much interested in you as you are in them. This chap—Jimmie Muskrat is his name—tells me they came away north, much farther north than they generally hunt, with the hope of meeting Eskimos.”
“Has he met any? Where has he met them?” asked Kak.
The Kabluna translated. “And now you are going back again, so I suppose you have seen Eskimos?”