<h2 id="c23"><br/>CHAPTER XXIII <br/>PLANNING THE LONG DRIVE</h2>
<p>The message that was holding Patsy’s attention
was one from the Canadian Government. It
was a bonafide offer from that Government to
purchase the first herd of from four to six hundred
reindeer that should reach Fort Jarvis.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_187">[187]</div>
<p>When Patsy had imparted the exciting news to
her, Marian sat long in silent thought. Fort
Jarvis, as she well knew, lay some five hundred
miles away over hills and tundra. She had
just returned from one such wearisome journey.
Should she start again? And would this second
great endeavor prove more successful than the
first? Of all the herds in Alaska, two were
closest to Fort Jarvis; Scarberry’s and her own.
She had not the slightest doubt that Scarberry
would start driving a section of his herd toward
that goal. It would be a race; a race that would
be won by the bravest, strongest and most skillful.
Marian believed in her herders. She believed
in herself and Patsy. She believed as
strongly in her herd, her sled-deer and her dogs.
It was the grand opportunity; the way out of all
troubles. That the band of begging natives
would not follow, she knew right well. Nor
would the mysterious persons of the purple
flame camp; at least, she hoped not. As for
their little herd range, if they sold their deer,
Scarberry might have it, and welcome; if they
did not sell, they could doubtless find pasture in
some far away Canadian valley.</p>
<p>“Yes,” she said in a tone of decision, “we will
go. We will waken the herders at once. Come
on, let’s go.”</p>
<p>As they burst breathlessly into the cabin of
their Eskimo herders, they received something of
a shock. Since all the work of the day had long
since been done, they had expected to find the
entire group of four assembled in the cabin, or
asleep in their bunks. But here was only old
Terogloona and Attatak.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_188">[188]</div>
<p>“Where’s Oatinna? Where’s Azazruk?” demanded
Marian.</p>
<p>“Gone,” said Terogloona solemnly.</p>
<p>“Where? Go call them, quick!”</p>
<p>Terogloona did not move. He merely
shrugged his shoulders and mumbled:</p>
<p>“No good. Gone long way. Bill Scarberry’s
camp. No come back, say that one.”</p>
<p>“What!” exclaimed Marian in consternation.
“Gone? Deserted us?”</p>
<p>“<i>Eh-eh</i>,” Terogloona nodded his head. “Say
Bill Scarberry pay more money; more deer; say
that one Oatinna, that one Azazruk. No good,
that one Bill Scarberry, me think.” He shook
his head solemnly. “Not listen that one Oatinna,
that one Azazruk. Say wanna go. Go, that’s
all.”</p>
<p>“Then we can’t start the herd,” murmured
Marian, sinking down upon a rolled up sleeping-bag.
“Yes, we will!” she exclaimed resolutely.
“Terogloona, where are the rifles?”</p>
<p>“Gone,” he repeated like a parrot. “Mebby
you forget. That one rifle b’long herder boys.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_189">[189]</div>
<p>“And your rifle?” questioned Marian,
“where is your rifle?”</p>
<p>“Broke-tuk. Hammer not want come down
hard. Not want shoot, that one rifle, mine.”</p>
<p>Marian was stunned with surprise and
chagrin. She and Patsy returned silently to
their igloo.</p>
<p>“Oh, that treacherous Bill Scarberry!” she
exploded. “He has known this was coming. He
knew our herders were energetic and capable.
He thought if they remained with us, we might
beat him to the prize; so he sent some spy over
here to buy them away from us with promises of
more pay.”</p>
<p>“And now?” asked Patsy.</p>
<p>“Now he will drive his herd to Fort Jarvis
and sell it, and our grand chance is gone
forever.”</p>
<p>“No!” exclaimed Patsy, “He won’t! He
shall not! We will beat him yet. We are strong.
Terogloona and Attatak are faithful. We have
our three collies. We can do it. We will beat
him yet. Our herd is better than his. It will
travel faster. Oh, Marian! Somehow, <i>somehow</i>
we must do it. It’s your chance! Your one big,
wonderful opportunity.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_190">[190]</div>
<p>“Yes,” exclaimed Marian, suddenly fired by
her cousin’s hot blooded southern enthusiasm,
“we will do it or perish in the attempt. It’s
to be a race,” she exclaimed, “a race for a wonderful
prize, a race between two large herds of
reindeer over five hundred miles of hills, tundra
and forest. There may be wolves in the forests.
In Alaska dangers lurk at every turn; rivers
too rapid to freeze over and blizzards and wild
beasts. We will be terribly handicapped from
the very start. But for father’s sake we must
try it.”</p>
<p>“For your father’s and for your own sake,”
murmured Patsy. “And, Marian, I have always
believed that our great Creator was on the
side of those who are kind and just. Bill Scarberry
played us a mean trick. Perhaps God
will somehow even the score.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_191">[191]</div>
<p>An hour was spent in consultation with old
Terogloona. His face became very sober at
the situation, but in the end, with the blood of
youth coursing eternally in his veins, he sprang
to his feet and exclaimed:</p>
<p>“<i>Eh-eh!</i>” (Yes-yes) “We will go. Before it
is day we will be away. You go sleep. You
must be very strong. In the morning Terogloona
will have reindeer and sleds ready. We
will call to the dogs. We will be away before
the sun. We will shout ‘<i>Kul-le-a-muck, Kul-le-a-muck</i>’
(Hurry! Hurry!) to dogs and reindeer.
We will beat that one Bill yet.</p>
<p>“You know what?” he exclaimed, his face
darkening like a thundercloud, “You know that
mean man, that one Bill Scarberry. Want my
boy, So-queena, work for him. Want pay him
reindeer. Give him bad rifle, very bad rifle.
Want shoot, my boy So-queena. Shot at carabou,
So-queena. Rifle go flash. Crooch! Just
like that. Shoot back powder, that rifle. Came
in So-queena’s eyes, that powder. Can’t see,
that one. Almost lost to freeze, that one, So-queena.
Bye’m bye find camp. Stay camp
mebby five days. Can see, not very good. Bill,
he say: ‘Go herd reindeer,’ So-queena, he
say: ‘Can’t see. Mebby get lost. Mebby
freeze’.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_192">[192]</div>
<p>“He say Bill very mad. ‘Get out! No
good, you! Go freeze. Who cares?’</p>
<p>“So-queena come my house—long way.
Plenty starve. Plenty freeze. No give reindeer
that one So-queena, that one Bill. Bad
one, that Bill. So me think; beat Bill. Sell
reindeer herd white man. Think very good.
Work hard. Mebby beat that one Bill Scarberry.”</p>
<p>There came a look of determination to
Patsy’s face such as Marian had never seen
there.</p>
<p>“If that’s the kind of man he is; if he would
send an Eskimo boy, half-blinded by his own
worthless rifle, out into the snow and the cold,
then we must beat him. We must! We must!”
said Patsy vehemently.</p>
<p>“That’s exactly the kind of man he is,” said
Marian soberly. “We must beat him if we
can. But it will be a long, hard journey.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_193">[193]</div>
<p>They had hardly crept between their deerskins
when Patsy was fast asleep. Not so
Marian. The full responsibility of this perilous
journey rested upon her shoulders. She
knew too well the hardships and dangers they
must face. They must pass through broad
stretches of forest where food for the deer was
scarce, and where lurking wolves, worn down
to mere skeletons by the scarcity of food,
might attack and scatter their herd beyond recovery.</p>
<p>They must cross high hills, from whose summits
the snow at times poured like smoke from
volcanoes in circling sweeps hundreds of feet
in extent. Here there would be danger of losing
their deer in some wild blizzard, or having
them buried beneath the snows of some thundering
avalanche.</p>
<p>“It’s not for myself alone that I’m afraid,”
she told herself. “It’s for Patsy, Patsy from
Kentucky. Who would have thought a girl
from the sunny south could be so brave, such
a good sport.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_194">[194]</div>
<p>As she thought of the courageous, carefree
manner in which Patsy had insisted on the
journey, a lump rose in her throat, and she
brushed a hand hastily over her eyes.</p>
<p>“And yet,” she asked herself, “ought I to
allow her to do it? She’s younger than I, and
not so strong. Can she stand the strain?”</p>
<p>Again her mind took up the thought of the
perils they must face.</p>
<p>There were wandering tribes of Indians in
the territory they must cross; the skulking and
oft-times treacherous Indians of the Little
Sticks. What if they were to cross the path of
these? What if a great band of caribou should
come pouring down some mountain pass and,
having swallowed up their little herd, go sweeping
on, leaving them in the midst of a great
wilderness with only their sled-deer to stand between
them and starvation.</p>
<p>As if dreaming of Marian’s thoughts, Patsy
suddenly turned over with a little sobbing cry,
and wound her arms about Marian.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Marian whispered.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_195">[195]</div>
<p>Patsy did not answer. She was still asleep.
The dream soon passed, her muscles relaxed,
and with a deep sigh she sank back into her
place.</p>
<p>This little drama left Marian in an exceedingly
troubled state of mind.</p>
<p>“We ought not to go,” she told herself. “We
will not.” Then, from sheer exhaustion, she
too, fell asleep.</p>
<p>Three hours before the tardy Arctic sunrise,
she heard Terogloona pounding at their door.
She found that sleep had banished fear, and
that every muscle in her body and every cell
of her brain was ready for action, eager to be
away.</p>
<p>As for Patsy, she could not dress half fast
enough, so great was her desire for the wonderful
adventure.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_196">[196]</div>
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