WHEN AN ESKIMO BECOMES A JAP
Johnny Thompson smiled as he drew on a pair of rabbit skin trousers,
then a parka made of striped ground squirrel skin, finished with a hood
of wolf skin. It was not his own suit; it had been borrowed from his
host, a husky young hunter of East Cape. But that was not his reason for
smiling. He was amused at the thought of the preposterous
misunderstanding which his traveling companions had concerning him.
Only the day before he had exclaimed:
"Iyok-ok, I believe I have guessed why the Russian wants to kill me."
"Why?"
"He thinks I am a member of the United States Secret Service."
"Well? Canak-ti-ma-na" (I don't know).
The boy had looked him squarely in the eye as much as to say, "Who could
doubt that?"
At first Johnny had been inclined to assure Iyok-ok that there was no
truth in the assumption, but the more he thought of it, the better he
was satisfied with things as they were. His companions carried with them
a great air of mystery; why should he not share this a little with them?
He had let the matter drop.
But now, since he was considered to be a member of a secret service
organization, he prepared to act the part for one night at least. With
the wolf skin parka hood drawn well around his face, he would hardly be
recognized, garbed as he was in borrowed clothes.
The mysterious Russian had adopted a plan of sending his dogs to some
outpost to be cared for by natives. This made the locating of the igloo
he occupied extremely difficult. It had been by the merest chance that
Johnny had caught a glimpse of him as he disappeared through the flaps
of a dwelling near the center of the village. The American had resolved
to watch that place and discover, if possible, some additional clues to
the purpose of the Russian.
Skulking from igloo to igloo, Johnny came at last to the one he sought.
Making his way to the back of it, he studied it carefully. There were
no windows and but one entrance. There was an opening at the top but to
climb up there was to be detected. He crept round to the other corner.
There a glad sigh escaped his lips. A spot of light shone through the
semi-transparent outer covering of walrus skin. That meant that there
was a hole in the inner lining of deer skin. He had only to cut a hole
through the walrus skin to get a clear view of the interior. This he did
quickly and silently.
He swung his arm in disgust as he peered inside. Only an old Chukche
woman sat in the corner, chewing and sewing at a skin boot sole.
Johnny hesitated. Had he mistaken the igloo? Had the Russian purposely
misled him? He was beginning to think so, when his eye caught the end of
a sleeping bag protruding from a pile of deer skins. This he instantly
recognized as belonging to the Russian.
"Evidently our friend is out. Then I'll wait," he whispered to himself.
He had been there but a few moments, when the native woman, putting away
her work, went out. She had scarcely disappeared through the flap than
a dark brown streak shot into the room. As Johnny watched it, he
realized that it was a small woman, and, though her clothing was
unfamiliar, he knew by certain quick and peculiar movements that this
was the Jap girl.
Ah ha! Now, perhaps, he should learn some things. Perhaps after all
these three were in league; perhaps they were all Radicals with a common
purpose, the destruction of all organized society; Japanese Radicals are
not at all uncommon.
But what was this the Jap girl was doing? She had overturned the pile of
deer skins and was attempting to reach to the bottom of the Russian's
sleeping bag. Failing in this, she gave it a number of punches. With a
keen glance toward the entrance she at last darted head foremost into
the bag, much as a mouse would have gone into a boot.
She came out almost at once. Her hands were empty. Evidently the thing
she sought was not there. Next she attacked a bundle, which Johnny
recognized as part of the Russian's equipment. She had examined this and
was about to put it in shape again when there came the faint shuffle of
feet at the entrance. With one wild look about her, she darted to the
pile of deer skins and disappeared beneath it.
She was not a moment too soon, for instantly the sharp chin and the
sullen brow of the Russian appeared at the entrance.
When he saw the bundle in disorder, he sprang to the center of the room.
His hand on his belt, he stared about the place for a second, then much
as a cat springs at a tuft of grass where a mole is concealed, he sprang
at the pile of deer skins.
Johnny's lips parted, but he uttered not a sound. His hand gripped the
blue automatic. If the Russian found her, there would be no more
Russian, that was all.
But to his intense surprise, he saw that as the man tore angrily at the
pile, he uncovered nothing but skins.
Johnny smothered a sigh of relief which was mixed with a gasp of
admiration. The girl was clever, he was obliged to admit that. In a
period only of seconds, she had cut away the rope which bound the skin
wall to the floor and had crept under the wall to freedom.
As Johnny settled back to watch, his brain was puzzled by one question;
what was it that the Jap girl sought? Was it certain papers which the
Russian carried, or was it--was it something which Johnny himself
carried in his pocket at this very moment--the diamonds?
This last thought caused him a twinge of discomfort. If she was
searching for the diamonds, could it be that they rightfully belonged to
her or to her family, and had they been taken by the Russian? Or had the
girl merely learned that the Russian had the jewels and had she followed
him all this way with the purpose of robbing him? If the first
supposition was correct, ought Johnny not to go to her and tell her that
he had the diamonds? If, on the other hand, she was seeking possession
of that which did not rightfully belong to her, would she not take them
from him anyway and leave him to face dire results? For, though no law
existed which would hold him responsible for the jewels, obtained as
they had been under such unusual conditions, still Johnny knew all too
well that the world organization of Radicals to which this Russian
belonged had a system of laws and modes of punishment all its own, and,
if the Russian succeeded in making his way to America and if he, Johnny,
did not give proper account of these diamonds, sooner or later,
punishment would be meted out to him, and that not the least written in
the code of the Radical world.
He dismissed the subject from his mind for the time and gave his whole
attention to the Russian. But that gentleman, after evincing his
exceeding displeasure by kicking his sleeping bag about the room for a
time, at last removed his outer garments, crept into the bag and went to
sleep.
One other visit Johnny made that night. As the result of it he did not
sleep for three hours after he had let down the deer skin curtain to his
sleeping compartment.
"Hanada! Hanada?" he kept repeating to himself. "Of all the Japs in all
the world! To meet him here! And not to have known him. It's
preposterous."
Johnny had gone to the igloo now occupied by Iyok-ok. He had gone, not
to spy on his friend, but to talk to him about recent developments and
to ascertain, if possible, when they would cross the Strait. He had got
as far as the tent flaps, had peered within for a few moments and had
come away again walking as a man in his dream.
What he had seen was apparently not so startling either. It was no more
than the boy with his parka off. But that was quite enough. Iyok-ok was
dressed in a suit of purple pajamas and was turned half about in such a
manner that Johnny had seen his right shoulder. On it was a
three-cornered, jagged scar.
This scar had told the story. The boy was not an Eskimo but a Jap
masquerading as an Eskimo. Furthermore, and this is the part which gave
Johnny the start, this Jap was none other than Hanada, his schoolmate of
other days; a boy to whom he owed much, perhaps his very life.
"Hanada!" he repeated again, as he turned beneath the furs. How well he
remembered that fight. Even then--it was his first year in a military
preparatory school--he had shown his tendencies to develop as a
featherweight champion. And this tendency had come near to ending his
career. The military school was one of those in which the higher
classmen treated the beginners rough. Johnny had resented this treatment
and had been set upon by four husky lads in the darkness. He had settled
two of them, knocked them cold. But the other two had got him down, and
were beating the life out of him when this little Jap, Hanada, had
appeared on the scene. Being also a first year student, he had come in
with his ju'jut'su and between them they had won the battle, but not
until the Jap had been hung over a picket fence with a jagged wound in
his shoulder. It was the scar of that wound Johnny had seen and it was
that scar which had told him that this must be Hanada.
He smiled now, as he thought how he had taken Hanada to his room after
that boy's battle and had attempted to sew up the cut with an ordinary
needle. He smiled grimly as he thought of the fight and how he had
resolved to win or die. Hanada had helped him win.
And here he had been traveling with the Japanese days on end and had not
recognized him. And yet it was not so strange. He had not seen him for
six years. Had Hanada recognized him? If he had, and Johnny found it
hard to doubt it, then he had his own reasons for keeping silent. Johnny
decided that he would not be the first to break the silence. But after
all there was a strange new comfort in the realization that here was one
among all these strangers whom he could trust implicitly. And Hanada
would make a capital companion with whom he might cross the thirty-five
miles of drifting, piling ice which still lay between him and America.
It was the contemplation of these realities which at last led him to the
land of dreams.