3. POLARIS MAKES A PROMISE
Both stood transfixed for a long moment--the man with the wonder thatfollowed his anger, the woman with horror. Polaris drew a deep breathand stepped a hesitating pace forward.
The woman threw out her hands in a gesture of loathing.
"Murderer!" she said in a low, deep voice, choked with grief. "Oh, mybrother; my poor brother!" She threw herself on the snow, sobbingterribly.
Rooted to the spot by her repelling gesture, Polaris watched her. So oneof the men had been her brother. Which one? His naturally clear mindbegan to reassert itself.
"Lady," he called softly. He did not attempt to go nearer to her.
She raised her face from her arms, crept to her knees, and stared at himstonily. "Well, murderer, finish your work," she said. "I am ready. Ah,what had he--what had they done that you should take their lives?"
"Listen to me, lady," said Polaris quietly. "You saw me--kill. Was thatman your brother?"
The girl did not answer, but continued to gaze at him withhorror-stricken eyes. Her mouth quivered pitifully.
"If that man was your brother, then I killed him, and with reason,"pursued Polaris calmly. "If he was not, then of your brother's death, atleast, I am guiltless. I did but punish his slayer."
"His _slayer_! What are you saying?" gasped the girl.
Polaris snapped open the breech of his revolver and emptied itscartridges into his hand. He took the other revolver from its holsterand emptied it also. He laid the cartridge in his hand and extended it.
"See," he said, "there are twelve cartridges, but only one empty shell.Only two shots were fired--one by the man whom I killed, the other byme." He saw that he had her attention, and repeated his question: "Wasthat man your brother?"
"No," she answered.
"Then, you see, I could not have _shot_ your brother," said Polaris. Hisface grew stern with the memory of the scene he had witnessed. "Theyquarreled, your brother and the other man. I came behind the driftyonder and saw them. I might have stopped them--but, lady, they were thefirst men I had ever seen, save only one. I was bound by surprise. Theother man was stronger. He struck your brother into the crevasse. Hewould have shot me, but my mind returned to me, and with anger at thatwhich I saw, and I killed him.
"In proof, lady, see--the snow between me and the spot yonder where theystood is untracked. I have been no nearer."
Wonderingly the girl followed with her eyes and the direction of hispointing finger. She comprehended.
"I--I believe you have told me the truth," she faltered. "They _had_quarreled. But--but--you said they were the first men you had ever seen.How--what--"
Polaris crossed the intervening slope and stood at her side.
"That is a long tale, lady," he said simply. "You are in distress. Iwould help you. Let us go to your camp. Come."
The girl raised her eyes to his, and they gazed long at one another.Polaris saw a slender figure of nearly his own height. She was clad inheavy woolen garments. A hooded cap framed the long oval of her face.
The eyes that looked into his were steady and gray. Long eyes they were,delicately turned at the corners. Her nose was straight and high, itsend tilted ever so slightly. Full, crimson lips and a firm little chinpeeped over the collar of her jacket. A wisp of chestnut hair swept herhigh brow and added its tale to a face that would have been accountedbeautiful in any land.
In the eyes of Polaris she was divinity.
The girl saw a young giant in the flower of his manhood. Clad insplendid white furs of fox and bear, with a necklace of teeth of thepolar bear for adornment, he resembled those magnificent barbarians ofthe Northland's ancient sagas.
His yellow hair had grown long, and fell about his shoulders under hisfox-skin cap. The clean-cut lines of his face scarce were shaded by itsgrowth of red-gold beard and mustache. Except for the guns at his belthe might have been a young chief of vikings. His countenance was at onceeager, thoughtful, and determined.
Barbaric and strange as he seemed, the girl found in his face that whichshe might trust. She removed a mitten and extended a small, white handto him. Falling on one knee in the snow, Polaris kissed it, with thegrace of a knight of old doing homage to his lady fair.
The girl flashed him another wondering glance from her long, gray eyesthat set all his senses tingling. Side by side they passed over theridge.
Disaster had overtaken the camp which lay on the other side. Camp it wasby courtesy only--a miserable shelter of blankets and robes, proppedwith pieces of broken sledge, a few utensils, the partially devouredcarcass of a small seal, and a tiny fire, kindled from fragments of thesledge. In the snow some distance from the fire lay the stiffened bodiesof several sledge dogs, sinister evidence of the hopelessness of thecampers' position.
Polaris turned questioningly to the girl.
"We were lost in the storm," she said. "We left the ship, meaning to begone only a few hours, and then were lost in the blinding snow. That wasthree days ago. How many miles we wandered I do not know. The dogsbecame crazed and turned upon us. The men shot them. Oh, there seems solittle hope in this terrible land!" She shuddered. "But you--where didyou come from?"
"Do not lose heart, lady," replied Polaris. "Always, in every land,there is hope. There must be. I have lived here all my life. I have comeup from the far south. I know but one path--the path to the north, tothe world of men. Now I will fetch my sledge up, and then we shall talkand decide. We will find your ship. I, Polaris, promise you that."
He turned from her to the fire, and cast on its dying embers morefragments of the splintered sledge. His eyes shone. He muttered tohimself: "A ship, a ship! Ah, but my father's God is good to his son!"
He set off across the snow slopes to bring up the pack.