<h2 id="c16"><span class="small">CHAPTER XVI</span> <br/>A STRANGE STEED</h2>
<p>As you have doubtless guessed, the camp discovered
by Joe and Jennings was that made by
Curlie. They had been on his trail and not
on the trail of some stranger. But had they
attempted to follow his trail from that last
clump of willows where the reindeer had been
tied they would have become more and more
bewildered, and had they followed that trail all
night they would have caught no glimpse of
their lost companion.</p>
<p>That you may understand why all this is true,
I must tell you what happened to Curlie after
he began to approach the clump of willows from
which rose the thin column of white vapor.</p>
<p>“Glad I’ve got my rifle,” he told himself, as
he moved in close to the willows. “You can
never tell what you’re coming up against.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</div>
<p>Walking on tiptoes, he approached the end of
the willow clump farthest from the column of
white vapor.</p>
<p>“Just slip in through here and have the first
look,” he whispered.</p>
<p>Pushing aside the bushes, he disappeared behind
the dead leaves. There was not a breath
of wind. This made it hard. It was impossible
to avoid rustling the leaves. Since there
was no wind to stir up other leaves, he felt sure
that his presence must be detected.</p>
<p>His breath came quick as he paused to listen.
No sound came to him. He moved on a few
paces, then suddenly he paused. Had he caught
a sound? Yes, there it was, a rustling of the
leaves, of branches switching together.</p>
<p>“What’s that for?” he whispered, crouching
low. “May be a signal.”</p>
<p>For some time he did not move. When at
length he ventured to go forward, it was on
hands and knees. Down low there were no
leaves. Traveling in this manner he made no
sound.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</div>
<p>Only once his foot touched his rifle, causing a
rattling sound.</p>
<p>Stopping dead still, he paused with wildly
beating heart to listen.</p>
<p>“What a fool I am,” he told himself at last,
“creeping up on some simple innocent people
probably. But when a fellow is a hunter, he
gets the habit of wanting to have the first look.”</p>
<p>A moment later he did get the “first look.”
And at that instant he leaped to his feet and let
out a wild shout of laughter.</p>
<p>The only creature to be seen in the bushes
was a milk-white reindeer. This deer was
hitched to a short, flat sled, such as reindeer
herders use. The sled was overturned and had
tangled with the willows. Because of this and
because of the three inch wide rawhide strap
which held him to the sled, the reindeer was
unable to move from the spot.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</div>
<p>The explanation of the column of vapor was
not far to seek. It was merely the deer’s breath
rising straight up from the willows. Since it
was intensely cold the moisture from his breath
froze at once and since there was not a breath of
air stirring it could be seen mounting in air for
many feet.</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t do to get too close to an enemy
on such a day,” he told himself; “he’d spot you
in an instant.”</p>
<p>This knowledge was destined to prove of
great value to him in the days that were to
come.</p>
<p>“Well, now,” he said, addressing the deer,
“I’ve got you. Question is, what am I going to
do with you. You’re evidently a bad actor; must
have run away from your master. And I
never drove a reindeer in my life.”</p>
<p>He paused in thought. The reindeer would
be of service to him if he could but learn to
drive him. He needed no food save that which
the tundra supplied, the reindeer moss under
the snow. To ride on the broad-bottomed sled
in his search for his companions would be far
preferable to walking; besides, it meant more
speed.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</div>
<p>“Huh!” he grunted, “try anything once.
So, you old lost ship on the Arctic desert, let’s
turn you over and see what you’ve got on you.”</p>
<p>Grasping the sled he disentangled it enough to
allow him to turn it over. The sled carried a
light load, all of which was covered with a
piece of canvas securely bound on by a rawhide
rope. That the reindeer had traveled some distance
was testified to by the fact that many holes
had been torn in the canvas as the sled traveled
upside-down.</p>
<p>“Let’s see what treasure is hidden here,” he
said.</p>
<p>His fingers trembled from curiosity as he
untied the rope.</p>
<p>To his joy he found a very good sleeping-bag
of deerskin, a pair of deerskin mittens, three
large frozen fish and a camp-kit consisting of
knives, spoons, cups, a tinplate, matches, reindeer
sinew for thread and various other odds
and ends beneath the canvas.</p>
<p>“For all these,” Curlie said, “old reindeer, I
thank you. They’ll come in handy when we
take the trail.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</div>
<p>He proceeded to replace all the articles and
to rebind the sled.</p>
<p>Hardly had this been accomplished than the
reindeer, who had stood all this time with head
down like a tired workhorse, suddenly sprang
into action. With a wild snort he cleared with
one leap a low willow bush and dragging the
sled after him, sprang away at a terrific speed.</p>
<p>Curlie had barely time to leap, stomach-down,
upon the sled and to grasp the rawhide rope
with both hands. He was determined not to
be left behind.</p>
<p>Scarcely realizing that his most priceless possession,
his rifle, was not on the sled, he still
clung there while he was whirled along at a
terrific gait.</p>
<p>Rocking like a rowboat in a storm the sled
took the ridges of snow as a boat would the
waves.</p>
<p>Expecting at every moment to see the sled
go over and to be forced to loose his hold, Curlie
lay prepared for any emergency.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</div>
<p>But the short, broad, low-runnered sled, built
for just such an emergency as this, did not turn
turtle. So, across one ridge and down it they
raced, along the side of a low, receding slope,
then across a valley they sped. Skirting a
willow clump, they crossed a narrow stream to
climb a hill again.</p>
<p>“Ought to let him rip and go back after my
rifle,” the boy told himself, but, tired as he was,
hungry and sleepy too, he was still game. This
beast had challenged his power of wits and endurance;
he would stick to the end.</p>
<p>“Wonder how in time you go about it to
stop ’em?”</p>
<p>He tried shouting, but this only served to
frighten the deer into greater speed, so again
he was silent.</p>
<p>They shot down a hill. There was danger
that the sled would overtake the deer and that
they would be tumbled into a heap. To prevent
this he began using his foot as a brake. It
worked; that gave him an idea. “Have to tire
him out,” he told himself. “Keep the brake on
all the time. That’ll help.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</div>
<p>Digging his heel in as hard as he could, he
created a great deal of friction which in time
began to tell upon the reindeer. He traveled
with his mouth open, and his breath began to
come in hoarse pants.</p>
<p>“I’ll get you!” Curlie triumphed. “Sorry
to do it, old boy, but it seems to be the only
way we can come to terms.”</p>
<p>Slowly and yet more slowly they traveled.
The reindeer had dropped almost to a walk
when, with a sudden spurt, he did a peculiar
thing. They were near a clump of willows.
Charging straight at these, like an ostrich hiding
his head in the sand, he buried himself in
the rustling leaves.</p>
<p>“Well!” said Curlie, rising stiffly, “that’s
that!</p>
<p>“And now,” he said, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“I think I’ll just tie you up here and leave
you to browse on these tender willow leaves
while I have a bit of frozen fish. After that
I’ll drag the sleeping-bag into the brush for
forty winks.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</div>
<p>A half hour later two thin columns of vapor
rose from the willows, one from the reindeer
and one from Curlie.</p>
<p>“Wonder if anyone will see them?” Curlie
puzzled before he fell asleep. “Well, if they
do, they do. I can’t help it and I’m too dead for
sleep to care.”</p>
<p>Curlie’s runaway reindeer had carried him
far. Hardly had he fallen asleep when two
dog teams appeared over the crest of the ridge.
This ridge, a mile away, looked down upon the
willows from which the breath of Curlie and the
reindeer arose.</p>
<p>The foremost of the two powerful dog teams
was driven by a strongly built man who ran
beside the sled. Upon the other sled rode a
second individual.</p>
<p>“Whoa!” The weary dogs halted.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</div>
<p>“Some one camped down there.” The man
spoke more to himself than to his companion.
“Might mean some food.” He looked to the
loading of his rifle. “Might mean trouble.”
So he stood there, apparently undecided, while
the columns of vapor continued to rise from the
willows.</p>
<p>Had Curlie Carson possessed a guardian spirit
he would beyond doubt have whispered in his
ear:</p>
<p>“Curlie! Curlie Carson! Awake! You are
in danger!”</p>
<p>But since he had none, he slept peacefully on.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</div>
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