As the American lad pushed back the flaps of the igloo and entered he
stared for one brief second. Then he let out a howl and lunged forward.
Before him, in the center of the igloo stood the old man who had been so
peacefully smoking his pipe two hours before. He was now standing on a
box which raised him some three feet from the floor. About his neck was
a skin rope. The rope, a strong one, was fastened securely to the cross
poles of the igloo. A younger man had been about to kick the box away.

This same younger man suddenly felt the jar of something hard. It struck
his chin. After that he felt nothing.

The fight was on. There were a dozen natives in the room. A brawny buck
with a livid scar on his right cheek lunged at Johnny. He speedily
joined his friend in oblivion. A third man leaped upon Johnny's back.
Johnny went over like a bucking pony. Finally landing feet first upon
the other's abdomen, he left him to groan for breath. A little fellow
sprang at him. Johnny opened his hand and slapped him nearly through the
skin wall. They came; they went; until at last, very much surprised and
quite satisfied, they allowed Johnny to cut the skin rope and help his
old blind friend down.

A boy poked his head in at the flap. He had been a whaler and could
speak English. He surveyed the room in silence for a moment, taking in
each prostrate native.

"Now you have spoiled it," he told Johnny with a smile.

"I should say myself that I'd messed things up a bit," Johnny admitted,
"but tell me what it's all about. What did the poor old cuss do?"