Many days later, Johnny lay sprawled upon a double thickness of long
haired deer skins. He was reading a book. Two seal oil lamps sputtered
in the igloo, but these were for heat, not for light. Johnny got his
light in the form of a raggedly round patch of sunlight which fell
straight down from the top where the poles of the igloo met.

Johnny was very comfortable physically, but not entirely at ease
mentally. He had been puzzled by something that had happened five
minutes before. Moreover, he was half angry at his enforced idleness
here.

Yet he was very comfortable. The igloo was a permanent one. Erected at
the base of a cliff, covered over with walrus skin, lined with deer
skin, and floored with planks hewn from driftwood logs, it was perfect
for a dwelling of its kind. It stood in a hunting village on the
Siberian shore of Behring Sea. The Jap girl, Johnny and Iyok-ok had
traveled thus far in safety.

Yes, they had come a long distance, many hundreds of miles. As Johnny
thought of it now, he put his book aside (a dry, old novel, left here by
some American seaman) and dreamed those days all through again.

Wonderful days had followed the addition of Iyok-ok to their party. From
that hour they had wanted nothing of food or shelter. Reared as he
apparently had been in such wilds as these, the native skillfully had
sought out the best of game, the driest, most sheltered of camping
spots, in fact, had done everything that tended to make life easy in
such a land.