The Curse of the Viking Grave by Farley Mowat Page A

sleep. He did not wake again until the day was almost done and then he became sleepily aware of someone touching his face. It was Angeline. In her hand she had a pint mug filled with meat soup, for Awasin had risked lighting a small fire. She was smiling uncertainly at him.
    Pushing up on one elbow, he took the mug and thanked her perfunctorily. As she turned from him he wondered what she really thought of him, and he felt his conscience prick a little.
    During the second night the fugitives made good progress. Their route followed the Putahow, and the lake and river ice, covered with a hard layer of wind-packed snow, made for fast going. At Zabadees’s insistent invitation, Angeline again rode the last part of the way on the Chipeweyan’s sled, and once more he drew away from the three boys, so that they were nearly an hour behind him in reaching their next camp on the shores of Goose Lake.
    A fire was already burning when the boys arrived. Zabadees was not in sight, but Angeline came running out from shore to meet them and they were surprised by the warmth of her greeting. Awasin, who knew his sister better than any of them, was mystified. It was unlike her to bepublicly so demonstrative. But after a quick meal had been eaten and the rest of the boys had gone to feed their dogs, she drew him aside and whispered rapidly into his ear. As he listened, Awasin’s face darkened. When, an hour later, Zabadees appeared suddenly from the woods having returned from an unsuccessful hunt for deer, Awasin did not greet him nor did Angeline offer to build up the fire and get him hot food and drink. Zabadees looked speculatively at the two Crees for a long moment, but he said nothing. Having rebuilt the fire, he heated his own meal, then carried it off to where he had unrolled his sleeping robes, some distance away from the others.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with Zabadees?” Jamie asked as he was getting into his own sleeping robes.
    â€œNothing,” Awasin answered shortly. “The Idthen Eldeli are strange people. They do not mix easily with others.”
    â€œThey not so strange,” Peetyuk said. “That fellow he stay with Angeline too much. What for he always go ahead when she on sled?”
    â€œHe has a lighter load, that’s all, Peetyuk,” Awasin replied. “Anyway, she is well rested now. She will not ride his sled tonight. Now go to sleep, for there is a long road ahead of us.”
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    But they did not start off again that evening. The bad weather which they would have welcomed the previous day came upon them now that they did not want it. A bitter northeaster had begun to blow. By dusk occasionalsnow flurries had turned to a steady, driving blizzard which made night travel out of the question. The boys pitched the travel tent and, with a big fire burning at the door, they and Angeline made themselves snug inside. Zabadees did not join them even though Jamie invited him in with hospitable gestures. The Chipeweyan’s distant, almost hostile attitude was worrying Jamie.
    â€œWe must have done something to annoy him,” he told the others as they snuggled under their robes in the little tent. “I don’t like it. If he gets sore he might push off and leave us on our own, and we don’t know the road.”
    â€œLet him go,” Peetyuk said loudly. “We not need. Soon come out of trees to my country: I find way then.”
    â€œBut we aren’t out of the forests yet, Pete. We still need him. I wish I knew what was eating him. You got any idea, Awasin?”
    Awasin and Angeline exchanged a fleeting glance; but Awasin shook his head.
    â€œIt is nothing. He will be all right. Do not worry about him, Jamie.”
    By morning the storm had blown itself out, and after a big breakfast and a leisurely second mug of tea they decided to move on in daylight. It was the best sort of day for traveling. The storm had hardened the snow and a bright sun was thawing