“They’ve been to the camp, you say, and found the Indians gone?”
“Yes, and father is following with your Eskimos: the rest of the search party came home.... It is all my fault Noashak’s lost. She ran away into the woods because I was cross with her; so I thought I’d better try and bring her back. And I was going to the lake to leave a message with your Selby about how mad the village is, so—so that you wouldn’t go there without your gun.”
“You intended to warn me? That was kind.”
Omialik’s eyes grew soft. One glance at his face was sufficient reward for Kak. Look and words together acted like balm on the boy’s bruised self-esteem. As he sat by his friend, eating dried meat and telling him every detail of their scare, his spirits rose. It seemed possible Noashak had never been near those deserted lodges—that they might all have been wrong. And he was prepared to accept the white man’s judgment when it came.
“I don’t believe Muskrat had anything to do with this business. It would be best, my lad, for you and me to return to the village and set matters right there. If your father is not back—if they have no news—we can start systematic search instead of running off on a wild goose chase. Maybe the child is only lost. What made you so sure she was stolen?”
Kak thought hard. “The women told me so,” he answered. “And Okak told them so. He was positive.”
Omialik smiled. “Okak was always crazy-frightened of Indians.”
“But what he said is true. Noashak would certainly come home from her play unless something was keeping her. The kids never go far.”
“Well, something else might have prevented her. Suppose she had fallen, or——”
“Don’t!” cried her brother in the same tone Guninana had used. “I’d rather it was Indians than animals!”