“Wolves?” asked Harry.
“I should think so,” said Joe; “but”—
Both boys shivered and drew nearer together, as if for mutual protection. The weird glamour of the Arctic night was upon them, and they thought again of the story that Harluk had told them of the winter ghosts at Icy Cape.
“Look there,” cried Joe. “The Eskimos are out.”
They dimly saw two figures, in the radiance of the full moon, come from the direction of the Eskimo village. Silhouetted against the snow, they moved to the right and left of the ridge, seemed to pause a moment, and then went back. There came the wolf-like howling again, but this time it had a sort of jubilant ring in it. It was heard no more that night, though both boys were up for a considerable time listening for it.
At dawn the next day Harluk appeared with woe in his countenance. “Good-by,” he said; “Eskimo all go to-day.”
“But why?” asked Joe in wonder; “are you not all right here with us?”
“Yesterday,” said Harluk, “plenty all right. Last night Nunatak (ice spirit) people send ghost wolves for food. Eskimo put out plenty. Then they go away. To-morrow night come again. Bimeby food gone, furs gone, then they take Eskimo. More better Eskimo go away first. Too much winter ghosts at Icy Cape.”
Joe was in dismay at the thought of losing the village. The companionship of the Eskimos meant much to the two boys, and their leaving would break up their plans for the spring. But at first all argument was in vain. The Eskimos had had experience with the Nunatak people before. When Eskimos settled in their realm, they must pay tribute to the ghost wolves sent or move out. There was no alternative. If the wolves howled again, they must put out something in food or furs or other property to appease them, or else the ice spirit people would come and take the Eskimos themselves. The boys conferred together about this new difficulty.
“What do you suppose it is?” asked Harry.