White Sox, the story of the reindeer in Alaska

by William Thomas Lopp

“‘Dainten and White Feet loved each other.’”

“When they were all far out on the spit, the hunter stretched his fish net across the narrow neck of ground. White Feet and his band were now prisoners on the spit. They were very glad to be alive and safe from the wolves. They didn’t know how long the hunter would let them live, and oh! how they did want their mothers! But they were very hungry too, and when White Feet saw some nice grass and scrubby willows, you may be quite sure that the little band forgot their troubles and ate a good supper.

“Afterward White Feet examined the long, narrow spit. It was low and rolling, and most of it was covered with moss and grass. There were dwarf willows too, and along its western shore, under a long bluff, was a level drift of old winter snow. The place looked mighty good to White Feet, especially when he found that the children were going to live on the sand spit with them. That very night the hunter and his family moved their tent inside the fish-net corral. The little band of fawns had a long sleep in perfect safety.

“Next day the hunter and his wife stood and watched the fawns play with the children. The hunter seemed to be most interested in White Feet. When he spoke to him, White Feet would go right up to the hunter and rub his head against the man’s arm or leg. You see, White Feet had thought it all out and decided that the band must have the hunter for a friend; then their lives would be safe. But of course the hunter didn’t know that. He was very much puzzled. He stared at White Feet and talked to him as if the fawn with the unheard-of markings were the returned spirit of his dead father, who had been a chief and a mighty hunter. After a few days the hunter went away.

“The captive fawns soon forgot their sorrow and fear. The spit was a safe home. They had a variety of forage and plenty of it. They had loving companions. They could sleep soundly without fear of enemies. It was a new life to them and they liked it.

“The bigger boy’s name was Dainten. White Feet soon discovered that. The two were together nearly all the time. They loved each other.

“But White Feet always remembered that the hunter and his family dressed in caribou skins. This made him very thoughtful. He felt quite sure that if all his followers were allowed to live and grow up, they must find a way to be of use to the hunter.”

“White Feet smelled at them, but he couldn’t make out what Dainten intended to do.”