Triple Spies | Page 8

the night, Johnny had been quite free to
offer his assistance in setting up the tents. In this he had been even less
successful than in his performance with the reindeer. He had set the
igloo poles wrong end up and, when these had been righted, had spread
the long haired deerskin robes, which were to serve as the inner lining
of the shelters, hair side out, which was also wrong. He had once more
been relegated to the background. This time he had not cared, for it
gave him an opportunity to study his fellow travelers. They were for
the most part a dark and sullen bunch. Not understanding Johnny's
language, they did not attempt to talk with him, but certain gloomy
glances seemed to tell him that, though his money had been accepted
by them, there was still some secret reason why he might have been
traveling in safer company.
This, however, was more a feeling than an idea based on any overt act
of the natives, and Johnny tried to shake it off. That he might do this
more quickly, he gave himself over to the study of these strange
nomads. Their dress was a one-piece suit made of short haired deer
skins. Men, women and children dressed alike, with the exception that
very small children were sewed into their garments, hands, feet and all
and were strapped on the sleds like bundles.
The food was strange to the American. One needed a good appetite to
enjoy it. Great twenty-five pound white fish were produced from skin
bags and sliced off to be eaten raw. Reindeer meat was stewed in
copper kettles. Hard tack was soaked in water and mixed with reindeer
suet. Tea from the ever present Russian tea kettle and seal oil from a
sewed up seal skin took the place of drink and relish. The tea was good,
the seal oil unspeakable, a liquid not even to be smelled of by a white

man, let alone tasted.
By the second day Johnny had found himself confining his associations
to one person, who, to all appearances, was a fellow passenger, and not
a member of the tribe. He had learned to pitch his own igloo and hers.
Not five hours before he had hewn away a hard bank of snow and built
there a shelf for his bed. When his igloo was completed he had erected
a second not many feet away. This was for his fellow passenger. In case
anything should happen he felt that he would like to be near her, and
she had shown by many little signs that she shared his feelings in this.
"In case something happened," Johnny reflected drowsily. He had a
feeling that, sooner or later, something was going to happen. There was
something altogether mysterious about the actions of these Chukches,
especially one great sullen fellow, who had come skulking about
Johnny's igloo just before he had turned in.
These natives were supposed to be trustworthy, but Johnny had his
misgivings and was on his guard. They had come in contact with
Russians, perhaps also with Orientals, and had learned treachery.
"And yet," thought Johnny, "what could they want from me? I paid
them well for my transportation. They sold their reindeer to the
American army for a fat price. They would be more than greedy if they
wanted more."
Nevertheless, the air of mystery hung about him like a dark cloud. He
could not sleep. And not being able to sleep, he meditated.
He had already begun the eternal round of thoughts that will revolve
through a fellow's brain at night, when he heard a sound--the soft crush
of a skin boot in the snow it seemed. He listened and thought he heard
it again, this time more distinctly, as if the person were approaching his
igloo. A chill crept up and down his spine. His right hand involuntarily
freed itself from the furs and sought the cold hilt of the Russian knife.
He had his army automatic, but where there are many ears to hear a
shot, a knife is better.

"What an ideal trap for treachery, this igloo! A villain need but creep
through tent-flaps, pause for a breath, then stealthily lift the deer skin
curtain. A stab or a shot, and all would be ended." These thoughts sped
through Johnny's mind.
Scarcely breathing, he waited for other signs of life abroad at that hour
of night--a night sixteen hours long. He heard nothing.
Finally, his mind took up again the endless chain of thought. He had
arrived safely at Khabarask, the terminus of the Russian line. Here he
had remained for three days, half in hiding, until the "Reindeer Special"
had completed its loading and had started on its southern journey to the
waiting doughboys.