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Updated: May 14, 2025
The advice of the store-keeper was helpful in aiding the Professor to take only such equipment and supplies as would be absolutely necessary. Anvik went to the Indian village to bring his pony, the boys in the meantime starting off to pick a camp site. "One thing, boys, we mustn't play tricks on Anvik," reminded Tad. "I have an idea that he hasn't much of a sense of humor.
There are five such schools on the Yukon between Eagle and Tanana, including these two points, amongst Indians all of whom belong to the Episcopal Church, and five more between Tanana and Anvik, amongst natives divided in allegiance between the Episcopal and the Roman Catholic Churches.
That has nothing to do with us." "He means the mountain spirits," explained the store-keeper. "Eh?" questioned Chunky. "Mountain spirits?" "He means spirits in the air," explained Butler. "We are not afraid of spirits, Anvik." "Anvik no like." "How do you know Innua is abroad?" asked the Professor, now curious to know more of the native superstitions. "See um." "Where?"
We can pitch camp in the village and acquaint our guide with our methods of doing things, Anvik, do you know how to put up tents and make camp?" "Me make Ighloo, fine Ighloo. Snow no get in, cold no get in, Innua no get in." "How about rain?" put in Stacy. "Rain no get in." "That's all right, then.
So, one night, Fortune helped Uri Bram harness the dogs and lash the sled, and the twain took the winter trail south on the ice. But it was not all south; for they left the sea east from St. Michael's, crossed the divide, and struck the Yukon at Anvik, many hundred miles from its mouth.
The boys laughed at this crude reasoning of the Indian. "Did they teach you at the Mission to make your squaws work?" asked Tad Butler. Anvik shook his head slowly. He did not answer in words, but hastened his pony's pace by his heavy pull at the halter. All that day the boys kept a lookout for smoke, but in vain.
Innocently thinking that they had seen Arctic travelling at its worst, and secretly looking upon themselves as highly accomplished trailmen, they had covered the forty-one miles from Holy Cross to Anvik in less than three days.
Anvik long since had wound himself up in his blanket and gone to sleep. Just as the dawn was graying, Tad got up, and shouldering his rifle slipped from the camp unobserved by anyone except the Indian. Anvik opened one eye, regarded the boy inquiringly, then closing the eye, dozed off. He was by this time too well used to Tad's morning excursions to ask any questions.
Anvik stick um if take." "You're a savage, that's what you are," declared Chunky. The boys got on their ponies, while Anvik, after letting his blanket slip to his waist, started away at a stride that the ponies had to trot to keep up with. That night the Indian slept rolled in his blanket with feet close to the campfire in true Indian style.
Tad had run to the pack mule which had got up, and was standing with nose close to the ground. "He isn't hurt," cried Tad. "He is all right, Professor," he called. "Both mules are all right. Hooray!" "Eh?" growled Stacy, flushing hotly. Anvik, who had been making his way down by a more roundabout way, now made his appearance.
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