ntil only one
opening remained. Then, dragging her deer skin after her, she crept
inside. She half closed the opening with a cake of snow, spread the deer
skin on the ice and curled up to sleep as peacefully as if she were in
her own home.

One little thing she had not reckoned with; she was now on the drifting
ice of the ocean, and was moving steadily northward at the rate of one
mile an hour.

CHAPTER XI

A FACE IN THE NIGHT

When Johnny left the igloo of the native girl he made his way directly
up the hill for a distance of a hundred yards. Then, turning, he took
three steps to the right and found himself facing the entrance to a
second stone igloo. That it was an old one and somewhat out of repair
was testified to by the fact that light came streaming through many a
crevice between the stones.

Keeping well away from the entrance, Johnny took his place near one of
these crevices. What he saw as he peered within would have made John
Barleycorn turn green with envy. A moonshine still was in full
operation. Beneath a great sheet iron vat a slow fire of driftwood
burned. Extending from the vat was the barrel of a discarded rifle. This
rifle barrel passed through a keg of ice. Beneath the outer end of the
rifle barrel was a large copper-hooped keg which was nearly full of some
transparent liquid. The liquid was still slowly dripping from the end of
the rifle barrel.

That the liquid was at least seventy-five per cent alcohol Johnny knew
right well. That it would soon cease to drip, he also knew; the fire was
burning low and no more driftwood was to be seen.

Johnny sized up the situation carefully. Aside from some crude benches
running round its walls and a cruder table which held the moonshine
still, the room was devoid of furnishings. Ranged round the wall, with
the benches for seats, were some thirty men and perhaps half as many
hard-faced native women. On every face was an expression of gloating
expectancy.

Now and again, a hand holding a small wooden cup would steal out toward
the keg to be instantly knocked aside by a husky young fellow whose duty
it appeared to be to guard the hooch.

Johnny tried to imagine what the result would be were he suddenly to
enter the place. He would not risk that. He would wait. He counted the
moments as the sound of the dripping liquid grew fainter and fainter. At
last there came a loud:

"Dez-ra" (enough), from an old man in the corner.

Instantly the tank wa