There was no food. This
fact was evident proof that the Eskimos were in camp somewhere in
the vicinity. He had finished his investigation of the pouches
when, looking up from his kneeling posture, he saw Celie
approaching.
In spite of the grimness of the situation he could not repress a
smile as he rose to greet her. At fifty paces, even with her face
toward him, one would easily make the error of mistaking her for
an Eskimo, as the sealskin bashlyk was so large that it almost
entirely concealed her face except when one was very close to her.
Philip's first assistance was to roll back the front of the hood.
Then he pulled her thick braid out from under the coat and loosed
the shining glory of her hair until it enveloped her in a
wonderful shimmering mantle. Their enemies could not mistake her
for a man NOW, even at a hundred yards. If they ran into an
ambuscade she would at least be saved from the javelins.
Celie scarcely realized what he was doing. She was staring at the
dead men--silent proof of the deadly menace that had threatened
them and of the terrific fight Philip must have made.
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