A good quantity of bone was in hand, but it was only a part of what the natives had taken, as the captain knew. Two whales had been their good fortune as the ice came down the fall before, and a third had come to them that spring as the gift of the orcas. These eat the lip and the soft tongue of the bowhead, leaving the carcass to float ashore. Hence the mersinker looks upon the orca with a sort of veneration as a provider of great and valuable gifts, and has certain ceremonies which he goes through each year as an invocation to him and an expression of gratitude. The mersinker, in fact, is a man of many ceremonials, the reason for which he does not know, but which he follows because his father did the same before him. These three whales had been small ones, but there must have been far more bone from them than the natives brought to the ship for sale. The balance they were keeping back for further trading with other ships, nor was it possible to get them to bring this out, even by offering increased value for it. They held it in reserve, as is their custom, hoping that the next ship would bring goods which they would care for more than those at hand. Captain Nickerson wished to purchase some reindeer for fresh meat, but none were at the coast. The deermen were said to be stationed in a valley half a dozen miles in the interior, and he decided to send an expedition inland in search of some. A coast native volunteered as guide, and brought along a sledge and dog team for the transportation of supplies. Mr. Jones, the taciturn first mate, was detailed in command of this expedition, and Harry and Joe were allowed to go, with many injunctions to be careful not to get into trouble with the Chow Chuen, as the deermen call themselves. It was a perfect June day when they set off. There was no breath of wind, and the sun shone brilliantly as they landed on the shore ice, transferred their supplies to the sledge, and set off through the native village toward the hills. They had instructions not to be gone longer than over one night, and it was agreed that a signal of trouble and need of assistance should be three shots repeated in quick succession. Such precautions were necessary as the Chow Chuen, though generally willing to barter, are of uncertain temper, and even the mersinkers are not to be trusted when they seem to have an advantage. Harry and Joe tramped on ahead of the company, the Eskimo following with his team and sledge, and Mr. Jones bringing up the rear. The air was warm, and on bare spots the spring grass was already growing through the tundra moss, but the snow still covered most of the earth, and the trail lay across it, well trodden.