sually they were sluggish until they
had eaten, sleepy and indifferent until the coffee stimulated them, and
Lund took up this stimulus and fanned it to a flame of work. This
morning they walked differently, abnormally active.

"They're drunk, an' they're goin' on strike," said Sandy. "You know the
big demijohn in the lazaretto?"

Rainey nodded. It was a two-handled affair holding five gallons, a
reserve supply of strong rum from which Lund dispensed the grog
allowances and stimulations for extra work toward the end of the shift,
the night-caps and occasional rewards.

"They've swiped it," he said. "Put an empty one from the hold in its
place. We got plenty without usin' that one for a while, an' I only
happened to notice it this morning by chance. They've bin drinkin' all
night, I reckon. They're ugly, Mr. Rainey. It's the crew this time. They
got the booze. The hunters are sober. Deming ain't in on this. They did
it on their own. I don't know how they got it. I didn't get it for 'em,
sir. They must have worked plumb through the hold an' got to it that
way."

"All right, Sandy. Thanks. Mr. Lund can handle them, I guess. He's
coming now."

The men had got to the ice, hidden from Lund, who was walking to the
_Karluk_ on the opposite side of the vessel. The seamen were
gesticulating freely; the sound of their voices came up to him where he
stood, tinged with a new freedom of speech, rough, confident, menacing.
As they climbed the trail their legs betrayed them and confirmed the
boy's story. Behind them came the four hunters, with Hansen, walking
apart, watching the sailors with a certain gravity that communicated
itself despite the distance.

Lund showed at the far rail of the schooner with his bar. He glanced
toward the men going to work, went below, and came up with a sweater. He
had left the bar behind him in the cabin, where it was used for a stove
poker.

The men filed by Rainey, their faces flushed and their eyes unusually
bright. They seemed to share a prime joke that wanted to bubble up and
over, yet held a restraint upon themselves that was eased by digs in one
another's ribs, in laughs when one stumbled or hiccoughed.

But Hansen was stolid as ever, and the hunters had evidently not shared
the stolen liquor. Only Deming's eyes roved over the group of men as
they gathered round for their cups and pannikins of food. He seemed to
be calculating what advantage he could gain out of this unexpected
happenin