“Tell them,” said the captain, “that I am much displeased.  If they promise to return the stolen goods immediately, I will pass over their offence this time, and we will trade together, and live like brothers, and do each other good; but if not, and if any more articles are taken, I will punish them.”

Having had this translated to them, the chiefs were dismissed, but the expression of indifference on some of their faces proved that no impression had been made upon them.

In a quarter of an hour the articles that had been mentioned as missing were returned; and in order to restore harmony, several plugs of tobacco and a few additional trinkets were returned by the messenger.  Soon after, the dogs were harnessed, the sledges packed, and, with many protestations of good-will on both sides, the parties separated.  A few cracks of their long whips, a few answering howls from the dogs, and the Esquimaux were off and out of sight, leaving the Dolphin in her former solitude under the shadow of the frowning cliffs.

“Fetch me the telescope, Mivins,” said the captain, calling down the hatchway.

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered the steward.

“Where’s my hatchet?” cried Peter Grim, striding about the deck and looking into every corner in search of his missing implement.  “It’s my best one, and I can’t get on without it, nohow.”

The captain bit his lip, for he knew full well the cause of its absence.

“Please, sir,” said the steward, coming on deck with a very perturbed expression of countenance, “the—­the—­a—­”

“Speak out, man! what’s the matter with you?”

“The glass ain’t nowhere to be seen, sir.”

“Turn up all hands!” shouted the captain, jumping down the hatchway.  “Arm the men, Mr. Bolton, and order the largest sledge to be got ready instantly.  This will never do.  Harness the whole team.”

Instantly the Dolphin’s deck was a scene of bustling activity.  Muskets were loaded, jumpers and mittens put on, dogs caught and harnessed, and every preparation made for a sudden chase.

“There, that will do,” cried the Captain, hurrying on deck with a brace of pistols and a cutlass in his belt, “six men are enough; let twelve of the remainder follow on foot.  Jump on the sledge, Grim and Buzzby; O’Riley, you go too.  Have a Care, Fred; not too near the front.  Now, Meetuck—­”

One crack of the long whip terminated the sentence as if with a full stop, and in another moment the sledge was bounding over the snow like a feather at the tails of twelve dogs.

It was a long chase, for it was a “stern” one, but the Esquimaux never dreamed of-pursuit, and as their dogs were not too well fed they had progressed rather slowly.  In less than two hours they were distinguished on the horizon far off to the southward, winding their way among the hummocks.

“Now, Meetuck,” said the captain, “drive like the wind, and lay me alongside of Awatok’s sledge;—­and be ready, men, to act.”