om now on, let her blow," laughed Johnny when the tunnel was finished;
"our work will go on just the same."

When the men were all back at work, Johnny thought once more of the big
yellow cat and the little yellow men. The storm had wiped out every trace
of his struggle with the men and every track of the cat. But the native
village? Might he not discover some trace of his assailants there? He
resolved to visit the village. Since his men were all employed, he would
go alone.

An exclamation of surprise escaped his lips as he rounded the point from
which the rows of dome-like igloos could be seen. Where there had been
nineteen or twenty homes, there were now sixty or seventy. What could this
mean? Could it be that the men who had attacked him but a few days before
were among these new arrivals? At first, he was tempted to turn back. But
then there came the reflection that Nepossok, the old chief who made this
his permanent home, was friendly to him. There would be little chance of
treachery in the broad light of day.

He hurried on and walked down the snow-packed streets of a northern nomad
village.

Reaching the old chief's tent, he threw back the flaps and entered. He was
soon seated on the sleeping platform of the large igloo, with the chief
sitting solemnly before him and his half naked children romping in one
corner.

"Many Chukche," said Johnny.

"Il-a-hoite-Chukche. Too many! Too many," grumbled the old man.

Johnny waited for him to go on.

Twisting the string of his muckluck (skin boot), the old man continued:
"What you think? Want'a dance and sing all a times these Chukche. No
want'a hunt. No want'a fish. Quick come no cow-cow (no food). Quick
starve. What you think?"

"Perhaps they think they can live off the white man," suggested Johnny.

The old man shot him a sharp glance.

"Eh--eh," he grunted.

"But they can't," said Johnny firmly. "You tell 'em no can do. White man,
plenty grub now. Many white men. Many months all a time work, no come open
water. No come grub. Long time, no grub. See! You speak Chukche, this."

"Eh--eh," the old man grunted again. Then as a worried expression came
over his face, "What you think? Twenty igloo mine. That one chief mine.
Many igloos not mine. No can say mine. T'other chief say do. Then do. Not
do, say mine. See? What you think?"

From the old chief's rather long speech, Johnny gathered that Nepossok was
chief over only twenty of the families of the village;