gan" and sourdough flapjack in some friend's mining shack, and,
if this dream came true, how quickly he would shape his course toward
the spot he had been directed to by the ciphered note in the blue
envelope!

"I'd walk in on them like old Rip Van Winkle." He smiled and glanced
at his dog.

"You look the part of Rip's dog, old fellow," he laughed; "you surely
do."

Yet, as he thought more soberly, he realized that there was really no
reason for supposing that the ice-floe had returned him to the mainland
of America.

"Might be a point of the mainland of Asia," he reasoned. "The people
who come here hunting may be Chukches."

Had his mind been less occupied with these speculations he might have
taken note of some movement off to the right of him. As it was, he
walked straight on.

Suddenly a small, dark object flew past his head. Before he could turn
to investigate, a second, better aimed, struck him in the side. Caught
off his balance, he went crashing to the ground. The next moment the
dog gave a yelp of pain. He too had been struck by one of these flying
missiles which proved to be rocks.

Stunned, but not seriously injured, Phi rose upon hands and knees and
made all haste to fortify himself behind a massive bowlder. Growling
defiance, the old dog crouched by his side.

It was a moment of suspense. What could this mean? Into the boy's
mind there crowded many questions. Had he been carried to the shore of
some island of the far north where the white man had never set foot?
Was he about to be attacked by a murderous band of superstitious
natives? He had seen no one. How many were there and why did they use
only stones for weapons? The bow and arrow are known to the most
ignorant savage.

To these questions he could form no answer. He could only crouch there
and wait.

He did not have long to consider what his next move should be, for a
rock grazed his ear. A quick glance in the direction from whence it
came showed him the form of a single native. Instantly the man
vanished, but a moment later a second rock flew through the air. It
came from exactly the same spot.

"May be only one," he murmured.

Encouraged by this thought, he proceeded to stalk his enemy by hurrying
around the bowlder and peering out at him from the other end.

The ruse worked. He found the man standing in full view, craning his
neck to look around the side of the rock which the boy had just left.

Presently the