Throughout all that swiftly passing time in which our lives had been in jeopardy neither Jack nor I had spoken a word. But now he murmured excitedly, “By God! He's got away with it! He's master of 'em all! The way he killed that chap was as cold-blooded as anything I've ever seen. What were they saying when it happened? What's he told 'em to do now? What's up with us?”
I dropped the curtain and faced him. I began to speak rapidly, explaining what I had overheard when the banging of the front door cautioned me to stop. The sound of a few rapid strides of moccasined feet intervened, and the shaman stood in the doorway—smiling! Actually smiling!
“Finish that, mebbe,” he said. “Nice here, ummh? Warm. But—sorry!—think bes' go quick. Think bes' get ready take trail. Quick!”
He dropped all his indolence and leaped across the room to where his parka was thrown across the back of a chair, jerked it over his body, and clapped his fur cap on his head. “Come!” he ordered, and we gathered our own outer garments and, donning them, followed him. He shouted something to the old woman that I did not catch; but she ran after him and we came together outside where he had opened the door of the outhouse he had used as a kennel and had begun pulling harnessed dogs from the darkness, dragging them to their places alongside the sled rope and snapping them to the rings fastened thereon.
He shouted an order to the old woman to go inside and bring the rifles which he had evidently left in her care. She returned laden with cartridge belts, rifles, and a robe or two. One of the dogs lifted its muzzle and wailed. Peluk silenced it with a savage kick, spoke soothingly to the others and commanded Jack and me to “make hard hold on sled. Mus' run quick.”
He stood at the leader's head restraining it with a hand on its collar and in his native tongue gave the old squaw her final instructions.
“If any one comes to-night you say we are asleep and not to be awakened. If no one comes until to-morrow, you say you know not when we left. Say that over for me!”
Obediently she repeated his words.
“Good,” he said and, releasing the lead dog, sprang to action, and with long, agile strides ran ahead of the team on the outward trail. The sled leaped so impetuously that both Jack and I were compelled to spring quickly to gain a handhold on it. We were jerked forward as empty, light, almost weightless, it responded to the surge and pull of the leaping animals.
I saw as we approached the eastern side of the tiny valley that we were beginning to ascend and were following an old trail. Then we began to climb stiffly up the narrow shelf that could lead to but one pass—that through which we had first entered. The village lay below us, with some of its lights still burning, and I esteemed it fortunate that the camp dogs had not yet settled to rest, but were still howling and yapping; for if silence had prevailed they would have heard our departure and aroused the village with their alarm, We climbed so steadily and at such speed that I, for one, was glad to rest when we reached the narrow gates through which we must pass. Despite the fact that in all that long and strenuous upward journey he had led the way, and had therefore nothing to cling to that might assist him forward, Peluk was far less winded than either Jack or I.
“Wait,” he ordered and went back down the side of the mountain for some distance, where I saw that he assumed an attitude of intent listening as if to learn whether any sounds from below might indicate an alarm. Apparently satisfied he returned to us and said, almost genially, “Very nice. Think mebbe not find out till morning we gone.”
We slid and scrambled down that woeful declivity, landing in a confused bunch of snarling dogs at the bottom, and the shaman straightened the team out and prepared to start. Then as if thinking of something essential, he came back to the sled and unlashed the three rifles that lay in the bottom. He inspected each in turn, made certain that the chambers were full, and, much to my surprise, handed one each to Jack and me, together with cartridge belts that he advised us to buckle on.
“No can tell if chase; but if do—by damn, when me say shootum, you shootum to kill! Unnerstan'? You my friend, see?” he said addressing me. “Me do bes' can for you. No more can do. Me give gun, now, but if me say giveum gun back, no can do more for you, and you giveum back, ummh?”