“Ten sleeps?” said Joe; “twenty sleeps?” but the answer was still “Ticharro pejuk,” and it was evident that Harluk himself did not know. To attempt to pass the river mouth on the ice was a doubtful thing at that season. At any time a wind from the south might send the floes out to sea, and those on them would be lost.
It was possible that by proceeding up river they might find an ice jam on which they could cross, and after thinking the matter over for half a day, Joe decided that it would be wise to go upstream for a considerable distance in the hope of finding a passage. There was still snow in many places on the banks, and they took advantage of this where possible. In other places the sled did not go badly over the tundra moss, yet travel was much slower than on the ice, and in thirty-six hours they had hardly made fifteen miles. They found dwarf willows and alders, scarce three feet high, plentiful along the banks of this river, and flocks of ptarmigan in these so tame that they would not rise at a rifle-shot. They killed many of these, and with plenty of willow wood for fire, lived well. Yet it was anxious work, and, as they proceeded, much more difficult; moreover, twenty miles from the coast they entered a height of land, almost a mountain range, through which the river broke in a series of falls. Here in three days’ struggle through ravines and up limestone slopes they hardly made ten miles. At the top they found better going, but here the river seemed to trend more to the east, and they had the humiliation of working away from their destination in spite of their labor.
“Confound it,” said Joe ruefully, as they camped late one afternoon, “we’d have done better to start before it began to thaw at all. Then it would be a straight trip on the ice and nothing to bother us but cold, and that’s no great harm.”
“I don’t see much use in this,” replied Harry, weary and somewhat discouraged. “We might follow up this river a hundred miles. Seems as if we had gone most as far as that already, and still there is no chance to cross. We’ll have to do as Harluk says, sit down and wait for the water to run out.”
“I think we’ll camp here for a day,” said Joe. “The dogs are tired and so am I. Besides, we are almost out of dog feed. If we watch out, we may get a caribou. There were tracks back there. I’d like some deer meat myself.”
CAMP ON THE TUNDRA
The northernmost deer of the American continent is the caribou, sometimes called the American reindeer. He differs from the Asiatic reindeer mainly in size and length of limb, the caribou being taller and larger. Otherwise, physically, they are much alike, live on the same food, and have the same general appearance. But while the Siberian deer is easily domesticated and is bred and handled in vast herds by the natives, the American type is wild and untamable. He loves the barren wastes of the far north, and every summer migrates to the northernmost shores, even passing on to the unexplored islands off the coast in the Arctic sea. Here he roams and feeds until the fierce gales of winter drive him south to the first shelter of the low clumps of firs and birches which mark the limits of the barren grounds. Hardy, restless creatures, the caribou often wander in immense herds, following a leader as sheep do. The Eskimos hunt them in summer when they approach the Arctic shores, and know their habits well, taking particular advantage of their curiosity. The hunter sits down among the rocks when a herd is in sight and imitates their hoarse bellow. Some of the herd will surely draw near to see what this motionless object is. Round and round it they circle, approaching nearer and nearer, until one is within reach of the hunter’s weapon. Sometimes the herd will run the gauntlet of a line of hunters just because one stupid animal has gone that way in his attempt to escape, and the rest are determined to follow his lead. At such times the Eskimo hunters lay in large stocks of meat and furs and consider themselves wealthy, for the hide of the caribou makes splendid clothing for them. It is very light and impenetrable to the wind, and no garment so successfully resists the Arctic cold as this. The Eskimo uses the hide, tanned, for thongs for nets and lines. A split shinbone makes a good bone knife, and fish-hooks and spears are made from the horns, while the tendons of certain muscles make fine and strong thread for sewing with the bone needle. Hence, as with the walrus and seal, the whole animal is utilized. The caribou has a great hoof, split nearly to the hock, which spreads and enables the animal to travel in soft snow or boggy tundra, where an ordinary deer would sink.
This hoof, too, is sharp, and gives the animal a firm footing on ice. It is also a weapon of defense far more formidable than the horns. A blow from it is like that of an axe, and woe to the hunter who comes within reach of the fore hoofs of a wounded and desperate caribou. Thus shod the caribou can travel faster on the ice than any other animal, and, when at bay, can slay a wolf with one well-directed blow of its hoof. Yet the animal is so stupid and timid that it rarely uses this weapon, and then oftener in a blind struggle than with intent to do harm. Such are the deer of the barren grounds, which Harluk and the two boys set forth to hunt.
Harry and Joe had repeating rifles, but Harluk was armed only with his ivory-headed spear, tipped with a triangular steel point. With this in hand he led them, first, to a pinnacle of limestone, about three miles away. The tundra was bare and brown, patched here and there with snowdrifts, and undulating to the southward in a sort of rolling prairie. Behind them and on either hand were the rough peaks of the height of land which they had gained the day before,—a scene bare, desolate, but fascinating, a bit of primeval chaos left over in the making of the world. Standing on this summit, Harluk scanned the horizon to the east and south, and finally pointed due east in silence. Joe and Harry looked carefully. They saw slowly moving dots on the plain some miles away. These had not been there a moment before. As they watched, others appeared, as if out of the ground.