Two hours before the tardy dawn, Marian and Attatak were away. With threetried and trusted reindeer--Spot, Whitie, and Brownie--they were toattempt a journey of some hundreds of miles. Across trackless wildernessthey must lay their course by the stars until the Little Kalikumf Riverwas reached. After this it was a straight course down a well marked trailto the trading station, providing the river was fully frozen over.
This river was one of the many problems they must face. There wereothers. Stray dogs might attack their deer; they might cross the track ofa mother wolf and her hungry pack of half grown cubs; a blizzard mightovertake them and, lacking the guiding light of the stars, they mightbecome lost and wander aimlessly on the tundra until cold and hungerclaimed them for their own. But of all these, Marian thought most of theriver. Would it be frozen over, or would they be forced to turn backafter covering all those weary miles and enduring the hardships?
"Attatak," she said to the native girl, "they say the Little KalikumfRiver has rapids in it by the end of a glacier and that no man daresshoot those rapids. Is that true?"
"_Eh-eh_," (yes) answered Attatak. "Spirit of water angry at ice cut awayfar below. Want to shoot rapids; boats and man run beneath that ice. Soonsmashed boat, killed man. That's all."
It was quite enough, Marian thought; but somehow they must pass theserapids whether they were frozen over or not.
"Ah, well," she sighed, "that's still far away. First comes the fightwith tundra, hills and sweeping winds."
Patting her reindeer on the side, she sent him flying up the valley whileshe raced along beside him.
These reindeer were wonderful steeds. No food need be carried for them.They found their own food beneath the snow when day was done. A hundredmiles in a day, over a smooth trail, was not too much for them. Softsnow--the wind-blown, blizzard-sifted snow that was like granulatedsugar--did not trouble them. They trotted straight on. There was no needto search out a water hole that they might slake their thirst; theyscooped up mouthfuls of snow as they raced along.
"Wonderful old friends," murmured Marian as she reached out a hand totouch her spotted leader. "There are those who say a dog team is better.Bill Scarberry, they say, never drives reindeer; always drives dogs. Buton a long journey, a great marathon race, reindeer would win, I dobelieve they would. I--"
She was suddenly startled from her reflections by the appearance of abrown-hooded head not twenty rods away. Their course had led them closerto Scarberry's camp than she thought. As she came out upon the ridge shesaw an Eskimo scout disappearing into the willows from which a camp smokewas rising.
Marian was greatly disturbed by the thought that Scarberry's camp wouldsoon know of her departure. She had hoped that they might not learn ofher errand, that they might not miss her from the camp. For Patsy's sakeshe was tempted to turn back, but after a moment's indecision, shedetermined to push forward. There was no other way to win, and win shemust!
An hour later she halted the deer at a fork in the trail. Directly beforeher stood a bold range of mountains, and their peaks seemed to be smokingwith drifting snow. Blizzards were there, the perpetual blizzards ofArctic peaks. She had never crossed those mountains, perhaps no personever had. She had intended skirting them to the north. This would requireat least one added day of travel. As she thought of the perils thatawaited Patsy while alone with the herd, and as she thought of the greatnecessity of making every hour count, she was tempted to try the mountainpass. Here was a time for decision; when all might be gained by a boldstroke.
Rising suddenly on tip-toe, as if thus to emphasize a great resolve, shepointed away to the mountains and said with all the dignity of a Jeand'Arc:
"Attatak, we go that way."
Wide-eyed with amazement, Attatak stared at Marian for a full minute;then with the cheerful smile of a born explorer--which any member of herrace always is--she said: