Free Lost in the Barrens by Farley Mowat Page A

know the story of those old Vikings at the Stone House.”
    Faintly illuminated by the last rays of the evening sun, the shape of the Great Stone House hung on the far horizon—a mystery still; but Jamie felt he held the key.

 

    CHAPTER 11
    Flight to the West
    F OR THREE DAYS THEY CONTINUED westward toward Idthen-seth. The mountain grew steadily larger, looming like a gigantic frozen wave upon a motionless ocean of gray ridges.
    As the days passed the boys became feverish with impatience, for the fear of missing Denikazi grew with each passing hour. They drove themselves mercilessly from dawn till dusk. At times, as they lay exhausted under their deerskin robes, they heard the whistle of unseen wings as flocks of sandpipers and plover passed overhead towardthe south. It was a sign that summer was near its end, and the boys longed to be able to join the high-flying birds on their journey south to safety.
    By the end of the third day Jamie’s leg had become so painful that he could not continue. Depressed by the delay, and miserable from weariness, the boys spent a silent day in a makeshift camp under the shadow of Idthen-seth. While they slept that night, the weather, so long their friend, turned enemy. Dawn on the fifth day found a dull and sullen sky with a cold wet wind whining down from the north. Awasin had trouble finding enough dry moss for a fire. As he watched his friend at work, Jamie’s mood of depression reached its lowest point.
    â€œWe might as well give up,” he said miserably.
    At Jamie’s remark, Awasin felt a weakening of his own resolve. He struggled to control his feelings, then he replied stubbornly: “We will get back all right. Lots of people have been in worse trouble than this and got out alive. We will be fine, if only the deer will come!”
    He had been glancing hopefully out over the plains. Now he stiffened and jumped to his feet. For a long moment he stared intently into the somber distances. When he spoke his voice was vibrant with excitement.
    â€œThe deer have come!” he shouted.
    Jamie looked quickly in the direction Awasin was pointing. Far off to the south a line of boulders crested a long ridge, and as the boys watched, those distant “boulders” shifted their position very slightly. They were not rocks—but deer!
    Forgetting his injured leg, Jamie ran for the rifle. A sudden twinge brought him up with a grunt of agony. He turned to Awasin. “You’ll have to hunt them alone,” he said. “Think you can get one?”
    Awasin grinned. “You watch.” He buckled on the knife, picked up the rifle, and slid silently down the slopes toward the south.
    The caribou were about two miles away and grazing slowly eastward. It was a small herd, perhaps a dozen beasts. The animals were wary and moved cautiously, stopping often to fling their heads up and stare suspiciously about them.
    Jamie watched Awasin run lightly over a long muskeg, then eastward under the sheltering crest of a ridge. It was clear that Awasin was trying to get ahead of, and down wind from, the slowly moving deer. The country was open and offered little cover so he could not hope to stalk the beasts. Instead he had to pick a hiding place from which he could ambush the approaching deer.
    When Awasin disappeared he was a mile ahead of the caribou herd, and from that moment Jamie could only watch the slow movement of the beasts, and pray that Awasin’s judgment was good. Once the herd changed its direction and began drifting south. Jamie felt sick with disappointment, for he knew Awasin could not change position now without being seen. Then, aimlessly it seemed, the deer returned to their original route. The tension grew unbearable. Minutes dragged by and at last he heard the faint, flat sound of a rifle shot.
    The tiny figures of the distant deer spread out as ants do when a man disturbs their nest. They were too far away for Jamie to see if any had