Harry examined the five caves that they found, and decided that Joe’s estimate of the value of their find was a very conservative one. To him it seemed nearly double that, and after excitedly figuring the probable value, Joe was inclined to agree with him. It was certain that they had found a fortune, and the only question was as to how they might realize on it. The bone was worth that in San Francisco, to be sure, but they were a long way from San Francisco, and the problem of getting there themselves was still a great one. Their great hope was that Captain Nickerson would be on the coast again with a vessel and would find them that summer. They decided to keep the presence of the bone a profound secret even from Harluk and his fellows. They returned to the camp and said very little about what they had seen. Harluk thought this reasonable. “None but wizards,” he declared solemnly, “might unharmed visit a place of ghosts, and he saw that they even were wise enough not to talk about it.” This find in the Village where No One Lives kept the boys chained to the locality, much to the sorrow of the Eskimos, who wished to get farther away from it. There were plenty of fish in the inlet, and wild ducks were tame and present in great flocks. They lived well, but they did not like to be so near the place of ghosts. But the boys were firm. It was midsummer, and just about the right time of year for ships to be off that coast, and they did not wish to leave their find. They decided that the bone must stay where it was until they could take it out and place it on a ship of their own, and they would better wait right there on the chance of such a ship. Thus they lingered on, week after week, in a vain hope. No ship came. As a matter of fact, it was one of those seasons that Harluk and Kroo had predicted, when the Arctic pack hugs the coast and it is difficult and often impossible for ships to get beyond Blossom Shoals. All too soon the brief summer waned, and their hopes waned with it. While they hesitated, the heavy sea ice pressed in nearer the coast and cut off any possible chance of a ship. The ducks flew away, the river froze over, and there was mush ice all along the coast where the pack had not frozen to the shore. The cold was coming on exceptionally early, and they were much dejected over the prospect. The wind blew keen from the north, and snow whitened the once blooming tundra. The winter was upon them before they knew it, so rapidly does it come in that land of ice. In the midst of this trouble Harluk came to them with a face of good news. “My brothers,” he said, “good luck is surely coming to us. The dogs have come back.” Eight or ten gaunt dogs were eagerly snatching at food that the Eskimos threw to them; then, their hunger satisfied, they allowed themselves to be tied up, and lay down by the topek doors in contentment.