<h2 id="c17"><span class="small">CHAPTER XVII</span> <br/>A KNOTTY PROBLEM</h2>
<p>Joe Marion and Jennings were facing a
problem. They had returned to their camp
after following what they thought was the
trail of some other person than Curlie. You
will remember that they had discovered the
marks of a reindeer which had apparently been
tied in the brush. This reindeer, they had concluded,
belonged to some herder who had camped
in the other clump of willows for the night. It
was in fact the very reindeer which Curlie had
found tangled in the brush. But this they did
not know. And since they did not know it they
supposed they had lost all trace of their companion
and were more than half convinced that
he had been frozen to death in the blizzard.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</div>
<p>Now, under the circumstances, what were they
to do? They had come a long and dangerous
way to capture a man, the air outlaw. To get
his man had been Curlie’s constant thought.
He was doubtless getting farther and farther
from them as the hours passed. They now had
meat to last them three or four days. What
should they do? Press on as rapidly as they
could, leaving Curlie to find their trail and follow
if he were still alive, or should they continue
the search for him, circling the hills and
the tundra with the dogs in the hopes of again
picking up his trail?</p>
<p>“Might be still alive but with frozen feet,
unable to travel,” suggested Joe.</p>
<p>“Yes, that has happened often in the Arctic!”
said Jennings.</p>
<p>“But he has his belt radiophone set,” said
Joe thoughtfully. “The air is quiet now. His
balloon aerial would work beautifully. Why
don’t—”</p>
<p>Suddenly he started. In his eager search for
his companion he had neglected the radiophone.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</div>
<p>Now he turned his attention to it. Tuning it
to 200, their agreed wave length, he listened in
while Jennings fried caribou steak.</p>
<p>“That’s a rare treat,” said Jennings as he
set his teeth in a juicy morsel. “It’s surprising
how you can keep a liking for caribou and reindeer
meat. In ’98 we came in four or five
thousand strong over the trail from Valdez.
We each had sixteen hundred pounds of kit and
grub which cost us about four hundred dollars.
With that food and the fish and game we got,
we lived up here a year and a half. Think of
it; a year and a half on a sled load of grub.”</p>
<p>“Did you find much gold?” asked Joe.</p>
<p>“Not many of us did. Most of us went
back to the States poorer than when we came.
That is, we did as far as money goes, but in
other ways we had gained much. We had
learned how to live without the white man’s
luxuries. We had learned to face danger, hardship
and even death with a smile. We had
lived hundreds of miles from doctors, drugs
and nurses, and yet most of us came out of
it, brown, sturdy, hard-muscled, keen of nerve
and of mind, ready for anything that life might
hand us. That’s the pay men get for daring a
wilderness.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</div>
<p>“Sh—”</p>
<p>Joe held up a warning finger. He was getting
something out of the air.</p>
<p>He knew at once that it was not Curlie speaking,
yet he felt sure it was important. It came
from the north.</p>
<p>“Steamship Torrentia. Munson, the explorer,
speaking.” Joe thrilled at the sound of that
name.</p>
<p>“Torrentia - crushed - by ice,” the voice
went on. “Sinking - by - the - bow. Position
about - one - thousand - miles - due - north - of -
Flaxman - Island. All supplies - unloaded - on floating - ice
pans. Shall attempt - pole - by
plane. Later - return - by plane - to Flaxman.
Must - have - transportation - for thirty - men
from - Flaxman. Authorize - any necessary
expense.”</p>
<p>The message ended, Joe sat wrapped in deep
thought.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</div>
<p>“I don’t see how he hopes to get transportation
for thirty men from Flaxman Island. That
spot, why that’s off the map—all but off the
earth. Nobody there. No one near. We can
help him some with our dogs if we happen to
be there when he arrives but our teams are
but a sample of what he needs.”</p>
<p>“Ought to have left dogs and a native or
two with his supplies at Flaxman,” said Jennings.</p>
<p>“Yes, but he didn’t.”</p>
<p>“No. That’s the real point.”</p>
<p>“Say!” exclaimed Joe suddenly, “there must
be a reindeer herd somewhere near here, otherwise
that fellow with the sled deer wouldn’t
be wandering around so close.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</div>
<p>“Probably. But you can’t be sure of it.
Those little brown folks think a lot of their
reindeer. I have known them to trail a deer that
had run away in company with wild caribou, for
more than five hundred miles. Anyway, it’s
worth looking into. If there is a good-sized
herd close to us, the Eskimo who owns it will
have enough sled deers to bring Munson’s whole
party out to civilization. I think we ought to
look into that at once.”</p>
<p>“I’d agree with you but for one consideration,”
said Joe thoughtfully.</p>
<p>“What’s that?” said Jennings sharply.</p>
<p>“The outlaw.”</p>
<p>“What’s he got to do with it?”</p>
<p>“He’s going north, isn’t he?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Toward Flaxman Island?”</p>
<p>“Probably. But what of that. What little
food he and his companion, if he has one, will
eat, won’t amount to anything.”</p>
<p>“No, it won’t; not if he stops at that. But
as Curlie and I have said to you before, everything
goes to indicate that he is sore at Munson;
that he’d like to do him an injury. What
greater injury could he do him than to load
down his sled with supplies from Flaxman
Island, then touch a match to the rest? Why,
man, the whole thirty of them would starve
just as Sir John Franklin’s hundred and fifty
men did in that same region two or three generations
ago!”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</div>
<p>“Yes, if the outlaw’s that kind of a bird.”</p>
<p>“Who knows about that? The only way to
find out is to go after him. I think it’s mighty
important that we get him and get him quick.”</p>
<p>“Then we’ll have to leave Curlie to make the
best of things, to shift for himself?”</p>
<p>“We-l-l,” said Joe, speaking very slowly,
“I—I’m not sure what we should do. Let’s
leave that discussion until morning.”</p>
<p>“Agreed,” said Jennings as he began unlacing
his felt shoes, preparatory to creeping into his
sleeping-bag.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</div>
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