In the meantime she heard the labored breathing of the reindeer as they toiled up the mountainside. They would soon be here. Then she and Attatak would make camp, and safe from the cold and storm, they would sleep in peace.

A great wave of thankfulness swept over her, and with the fervent reverence of a child, she lifted her eyes to the stars and uttered a prayer of thanksgiving.

When the wave of emotion had pa.s.sed, curiosity again gripped her. She wished to enter the cave, yet shrank from it. Like a child afraid of the dark, she feared to go forward alone. So, drawing her parka hood close about her face to protect it from the cold, she waited for Attatak's arrival.

Even as she waited there crept into her mind a disturbing question:

"I wonder," she said aloud, "I do wonder how Patsy is getting along with the herd?"

CHAPTER IX PATSY SOLVES A PROBLEM

Turning from the group of strange natives, Patsy lead Terogloona into the igloo and drawing his grandfatherly head down close to hers, she whispered:

"Terogloona, are reindeer much afraid of native wolf dogs?"

"_Eh-eh!_" Terogloona nodded his head.

"Very, very, very much afraid of them?" Patsy insisted.

Terogloona's head nodded vigorously.

"Then," said Patsy, with a twinkle in her eye, "if we let one wolfdog loose, and he went toward Bill Scarberry's herd, would they run away?"

"_Eh-eh._ Mebby. Want kill reindeer, that dog. Mebby kill one, two, three-many. Sometimes that way, wolfdogs."

Terogloona's horror of the thing she had proposed, shone in his eyes.

Many years he had been a herder of reindeer. Many a dog had he killed to save a reindeer. His love for dogs was strong. His love for reindeer was stronger. To deliberately turn a wolfdog loose to prey upon a herd of reindeer, even an enemy's herd, was unthinkable.

Patsy, having read his thoughts, threw back her head and laughed.

"We won't do that," she said soberly, "but, Terogloona, if each one of those strange Eskimo people should take a dog by his draw rope, and then they all should walk toward that old cheat's herd, what would happen?"

A sudden gleam stole into the aged herder's eyes. He was beginning to catch her meaning. The deer were upon forbidden ground. She was finding a way to drive them back to the place where they belonged.

"They would go away very fast," he said quickly.

"And would these Eskimos do that; would they do it for two sacks of flour; two cans of baking-powder; two slabs of bacon and some sugar?"

asked Patsy breathlessly.

"For all that," said Terogloona, staring at her, "they would do anything; anything you say."

"Go tell them they shall have it," said Patsy. "Tell them they must drive Scarberry's herd back to the Come-saw River valley where they belong, and that they may take their flour, sugar and other things along."

The Eskimos crowded about Terogloona, listened to him in silence until he had finished, then burst into a chorus of "_Eh-eh! Ke! Ke Kullemuk, Ke-Ke_," which Patsy rightfully interpreted as meaning that they were ready for the enterprise and that Terogloona was to bring on the reward.

It was a strange line of march that formed soon after. Seven Eskimos, each holding to a strap, at the other end of which a native dog reared and ki-yi'ed, spread out in a broad line, and followed by a sled drawn by the four remaining dogs, they started toward Scarberry's herd.

As they came closer to the herd, the leaders of the antlered throng tossed their heads and whistled. As they came still closer there sounded the rattle of antler upon antler as the herd backed in upon itself.

The solitary herder, who had been left to watch the herd, looked at the on-coming members of his own race and then shouted at them angrily.

The Eskimos with the dogs marched straight ahead, appearing not to hear the shouts of the angry herder. In less time than it takes to tell it the herd was in full stampede. In vain were the shouts of Scarberry's herders. In vain their herd dogs sought to stem the flight. The reindeer had scented their ancient foe; they had heard his loud ki-yi. They were headed for their home range, and would not pause until they had reached it. Marian's hills and tundra were not for them.

As for Scarberry's herders, they might remain where they were or follow.

They chose to follow. An hour later, with a sigh of satisfaction, Patsy saw them driving their sled deer over the broad trail of the herd that had vanished.

"Will they come back?" she asked Terogloona.

"Mebby yes; mebby no," said Terogloona. "Can't tell."

For a moment he was silent; then with a queer look on his face he said:

"One thing I am much afraid of."

"What is that?" asked Patsy.

"Mebby not come," said Terogloona, looking as if he was sorry he had spoken.

That was all he would say and Patsy felt a bit uneasy over his remark.

Nevertheless, she could not help having a feeling of pride in her first day's work as manager of the herd. Two serious problems had arisen and she had matched them against each other with the result that both had vanished. She had succeeded in getting rid of the unwelcome visitors and Bill Scarberry's great herd. She had a right to feel a bit proud.

"10 - 10 = 0," she marked on the floor with a bit of charcoal. "We are minus a few eatables but we can spare them all right. Besides, it's real satisfying to know that you've given several hungry people an opportunity to earn a week's provisions."

Had she known the full and final effect of that week's provisions, she might have experienced some moments of uncomfortable thinking. Lacking that knowledge, she smiled as she busied herself with preparing a belated breakfast for Terogloona and herself.

CHAPTER X A STARTLING DISCOVERY

To Attatak, whose mind was filled with the weird tales of the spirit world, to enter a cave away on this unknown mountain side was a far greater trial than it was to Marian. Cold, blizzards, the wild beasts of timberlands-these she could face; but the possible dwelling place of the spirits of dead polar bears and walruses, to say nothing of old women who had died because they had disregarded the incantations of witch doctors, "Ugh!"-this was very bad indeed.

Marian felt the native girl tremble as she took her arm and led her gently forward into the dark depths of the cave.

The entrance was not wide, perhaps twelve feet across, but it was fully as high as it was broad.

"Our deer can come in, too," whispered Marian, "if it goes back far enough."

"If there are no wolves," said Attatak with a shudder.

"Wolves?" Marian had not thought of that. "You wait here," she whispered.

"I'll go for the rifle."

"No! No!" Attatak gripped her arm until it hurt. "I will go, too."