make the deer go more slowly. This really being the signal for greater
speed, the deer had bolted across the tundra, at last spilling Johnny
and his load of Chukche plunder over a cutbank. This procedure did not
please the Chukches, and Johnny was not given a second opportunity to
drive. He was compelled to trot along beside the sleds or, back to back
with one of his fellow travelers, to ride over the gleaming whiteness
that lay everywhere.

It was at such times as these that Johnny had ample opportunity to study
the country through which they passed. Lighted as it was by a glorious
moon, it presented a grand and fascinating panorama. To the right lay
the frozen ocean, its white expanse cut here and there by a pool of salt
water pitchy black by contrast with the ice. To the left lay the
mountains extending as far as the eye could see, with their dark purple
shadows and triangles of light and seeming but another sea, that
tempest-tossed and terrible had been congealed by the bitter northern
blasts.

When twelve hours of travel had been accomplished, and it had been
proposed that they camp for the night, Johnny had been quite free to
offer his assistance in setting up the tents. In this he had been even
less successful than in his performance with the reindeer. He had set
the igloo poles wrong end up and, when these had been righted, had
spread the long haired deerskin robes, which were to serve as the inner
lining of the shelters, hair side out, which was also wrong. He had once
more been relegated to the background. This time he had not cared, for
it gave him an opportunity to study his fellow travelers. They were for
the most part a dark and sullen bunch. Not understanding Johnny's
language, they did not attempt to talk with him, but certain gloomy
glances seemed to tell him that, though his money had been accepted by