Taking the stub of a pencil and a sheet of paper from his pocket, the officer drew what was likely to be a rough map.
Johnny understood in a general way what was happening. The Corporal realized that he had, without intending to do so, stirred up in Gordon Duncan’s breast a fire not easily quenched. He had so worked upon his almost exaggerated sense of duty that he would be driven to attempt the seemingly impossible. Without adding fuel to the flames by giving the old man a detailed description of the route to be taken, he was imparting that knowledge to Faye Duncan.
“Well thought out and mighty decent of him,” was Johnny’s mental comment. With that thought uppermost in his mind, he went about the business of preparing for a night’s repose.
The Corporal was up and away before dawn. Having assisted him with his dogs, Johnny returned to the cabin.
In his sleeping bag on a rude bunk in the corner Gordon Duncan still slept. Before the fire sat Faye Duncan. She had thrown fresh fuel on the fire. The flames were leaping up the chimney.
“I suppose you know,” she said as he took a seat beside her, “that Grandfather will accept this new mission.”
“He doesn’t want to. The finding of his long lost partner and the green gold has obsessed him for years. It is natural that he should want to go on. But he is deeply religious and, what is better, has a great heart. There are those who suffer. It is possible for him to give them aid. Duty calls. He must go.”
“But only three of us!” said Johnny. “How can we help? We may starve, ourselves. In their ignorance, superstition and great need they may attack us.”
“We have eight bows between us,” the girl said quietly. “A bow weighs very little. We always carried a good supply. Never as many as now. Providence must have directed us. We have many arrow points. Thongs, feathers, material for shafts may be had in the wilderness. A bow is a precious thing. Its wood must be of the best and seasoned many months. We are fortunate in having so many.”
“After all, we can use but three bows at a time,” Johnny said.
“Grandfather believes that there are old men among the Eskimos who have been archers and have not forgot. If he can arm these with our extra bows, if we can somehow ambush the caribou when they come, we may save those starving ones yet.”