The helicopter descended slowly to the village clearing. Instead of running to meet their visitors, the Indians gathered to watch from a distance. Their dark, slanted eyes, set in coppery faces, stared impa.s.sively at the newcomers.

"They don't look very friendly," Joe muttered.

"Do they speak English?" Frank asked the pilot.

"Most of them do, although they may not admit it. Often they use the Chinook trading jargon in talking to strangers."

Seeing that the Indians made no move, the 55 pilot stepped forward. "Klahowya!" "Klahowya!" he said in a loud voice. Several men of the village he said in a loud voice. Several men of the village returned his greeting.

"We're looking for some white men," Frank told them. "Have you seen any strangers around here?"

The Indians merely shrugged and shook their heads. "Looks as though we're not going to get much out of them," Robbie murmured.

"Let's circulate around the village," Frank suggested. "Maybe they'll open up a bit after they get used to us."

Robbins agreed, so the trio strolled around, peering at the Indian dwellings. Though crude, the houses were stoutly built and well c.h.i.n.ked. Near each one stood wooden racks, with strings of fish drying in the sun.

Frank and Joe were intrigued by a number of small log structures, poised on stilts as high as a man's head. There was one beside each house, with a ladder going up to the entrance.

"What are those things?" Joe puzzled. "Oversized birdhouses?"

Robbie Robbins grinned. "No, they're caches," he explained, "for storing food out of reach of wild animals."

Several Indian children trailed around behind the white visitors, watching them curiously.

Finally one teen-age boy grew bold enough to speak.

56 "Me Fleetfoot," he said to Frank.

"Glad to know you." Frank offered his hand, hoping to make friends with the boy. "I'm Frank Hardy. This is my brother Joe, and this is Robbie Robbins."

After pumping each one by the hand, the Indian youth continued, "You ask about strangers?"

"That's right," Frank said. "Have you seen any recently?"

"Nowitka! Yes," Fleetfoot replied. "One day I go to river to fish. See two white men drift Yes," Fleetfoot replied. "One day I go to river to fish. See two white men drift downstream in big canoe. They make much talk."

"Did you hear what they were saying?" Joe asked eagerly.

The Haida lad paused, furrowing his brow as if trying to remember the exact words. "I hear one man say, 'They protect the salmon. The salmon protect us.' Then other man say something in strange lingo-not like American talk. Me not understand."

Joe shot an excited glance at his brother, who said, "Fleetfoot, will you do something for us?"

"Maybe." The Indian boy smiled and shrugged. "What do you want?"

"Next time you see those men, or any other strangers, trail them to their camp-but keep out of sight, so they don't see you. Then come and tell us. We'll be staying on the island at the mouth of the river."

57 The Indian boy looked uncertain.

"Maybe we can do something for you. What would you like?" Frank asked.

A broad grin spread over the young Indian's face. "Me like ride in big funny bird!"

"Our whirlybird." Robbie Robbins chuckled. "Okay, it's a deal, Fleetfoot."

Well satisfied with the results of their visit to the Indian village, Robbie and the Hardys took off again in the helicopter.

"Frank, it looks as though our guess was right," Joe said excitedly. "If one of those men spoke a strange language, we must be up against foreign agents!"

"It sounds that way," Frank agreed. "But I sure wish we knew what they're after. Let's hope Fleetfoot delivers on his end of the bargain!"

Continuing northward, the helicopter soared above the rolling foothills of the Alaskan coastal range. Beyond the timber line, the rocky slopes towered up to snow-capped peaks.

One of the mountains drew Frank's attention by its strange contours.

"Gosh, look at that," he remarked, pointing out the unique formation to Joe. "Those peaks stick up just like four fingers and a thumb."

"A good description," Robbie put in. "The Indians call it Devil's Paw, and you can see why." He added, "That whole range up ahead forms the international boundary between Alaska and 58 British Columbia. Guess we'd better turn back."

On the return trip, Robbie circled over an enormous tongue of ice, seventeen miles long.

Glittering blue-white in the sunshine, it trailed down from the mountain snow fields almost to the coast.

"Mendenhall Glacier," the pilot told Frank and Joe. "It's actually a river of ice."

The boys gaped at the spectacle. "A river?" Joe echoed. "You mean it flows?"

"Yes, but so slowly you could never tell by the naked eye," Robbie replied. "I guess creeps might be a better word." might be a better word."

Suddenly Frank exclaimed, "Go lower, Robbiel I think there are two people down there!"

The helicopter swooped toward the glacier. "You're right!" Joe cried. "A man and a woman! They must be stranded!" The tiny figures signaled frantically, waving their arms.

They appeared to be seated on the ice.

"Can we rescue them?" Frank asked the pilot.

"We'll sure try!" Hovering into position above the two people, Robbie told the boys to unreel a rope ladder which he carried in the rear of the helicopter's cabin.

At sight of the ladder the man on the glacier shook his head and signaled with his arms.

"He wants someone to climb down and help them," Frank said. "I'll go!"

CHAPTER VII.

Glacier Trek the helicopter hovered lower over the ice as Frank prepared for the rescue. Easing himself out of the cabin, he groped for a footing on one of the metal rungs. The ladder swayed sickeningly as he climbed down. But Frank kept a steady grasp. Finally he reached the glacier. The middle-aged couple, dressed in hiking garb, greeted him with anxious relief.

"Sorry to put you to so much trouble. We're certainly grateful that you responded to our signals!" The man, although he seemed to be in pain, flashed a smile. "My wife and I had an accident. Our name's Turner. I'm an engineer."

Frank introduced himself, and Mrs. Turner, a pleasant-faced woman, added her thanks.

"We had a nasty fall on the ice," she explained. "I'm afraid my husband's leg is broken, and I seemed to have sprained my arm quite badly. Could you possibly take us aboard?"

S9.

60 "Of course, Mrs. Turner." Frank smiled rea.s.suringly. After studying the situation, he removed two rungs of the ladder and improvised a splint for Mr. Turner's leg. Then he lashed first the woman, then the man, to the ladder and had them lifted aboard.

"There won't be room for all of us," Joe told the pilot. "Suppose I keep Frank company on the glacier while you take Mr. and Mrs. Turner to the hospital?"

"I guess that's the best plan," Robbie agreed. He reached into a storage locker and took out two pairs of steel cleats. "Here. You and Frank fasten these to your shoes. They'll help you keep your footing on the ice. I'll be back p.r.o.nto to pick you up."

"Okay, thanks." Joe pocketed the cleats, and after wishing the Turners a speedy recovery from their injuries, climbed down the ladder. Then Robbie reeled it back aboard.

The two boys waved as the whirlybird took off toward Juneau.

"This is a chilly-looking spot, all right," Frank remarked, gazing around at the vast expanse of ice. "What a nasty place to have an accident!"

"You said it!" Joe replied. "Which reminds me-we'd better put these on before we take a spill ourselves!"

He handed Frank one set of cleats, and the boys sat down on the ice to attach them to their shoes. Feeling a bit more sure-footed, they deGlacier Trek 61 cided to do a little exploring while they waited for Robbie's return.

"Let's take a look farther up the gorge," Frank suggested.

"Suits me-if we can make it." Joe took a couple of trial steps, moving as gingerly as a man walking on eggs. "Boy, it's a good thing Robbie gave us these cleats, or I'd be flat on my back by now!"

Frank chuckled. "Keep your fingers crossed. It could still happen!"

In appearance, the glacier was more like a mountainous ridge than a river. Its surface was humped and uneven, as well as split with cracks and fissures. The boys made their way along slowly, enjoying the majestic view of the mountain slopes that rose on either side of the glacier.

Suddenly Frank let out a yell as he lost his footing. "Joe! Help!"

Joe threw himself flat on the ice and caught his brother by the arm in the nick of time. An instant later Frank would have slid into a yawning creva.s.se!

"Whew!" Frank lay panting for a moment after Joe had pulled him to safety. "That was too close for comfort! I didn't even notice that downslope till I hit the skids!"

"Maybe we'd better head for sh.o.r.e," Joe suggested. "This berg is too tricky to navigate."

"Second the motion!"

62 By the time they reached the timbered slope on the nearest side of the valley, a chill wind had sprung up. Blowing down from the mountains, it rustled the branches of the tall evergreens.

"I'm glad these fir trees act as a wind screen," Frank remarked with a shiver.

"Right now, I'd prefer the kind of furs we could wrap around us!" Joe retorted wryly.

Frank chuckled. "For making a pun like that, you deserve deserve to freeze!" to freeze!"

As the moments of waiting dragged by, both boys began to feel hunger pangs from having missed lunch.

"Wow! Could I go for a square meal!" Joe groaned.

"Don't look now, but here comes someone with the same idea!" Frank pointed to a huge prowling bear which had just appeared among the underbrush, a hundred yards away.

"Oh-oh!" Joe turned pale. "I suddenly lost my appet.i.te! Come on! We'd better go out on the ice!"

The Hardys hastily retraced their steps out over the glacier. After peering in their direction for a while with its nearsighted eyes and sniffing the air hungrily, the bear ambled off into the timber. The brothers heaved sighs of relief.

"Think it's safe to go back?" Joe asked.

"Let's not tempt him!" Frank cautioned.

"W-w-what's keeping Robbie?" Joe muttered, 63 his teeth chattering from the cold. More than an hour had pa.s.sed.

"Search me," Frank replied. "It's not a long run into Juneau. Maybe he was delayed at the hospital."

Both boys were chilled to the bone and ravenously hungry when the drone of a plane's motor finally reached their ears. Shading their eyes against the dazzling sun glare, they saw a small single-engine craft wing into view. It flew in low above the treetops and circled overhead.

"The pilot's signaling to us!" Joe cried out.

The Hardys waved back.

"He's going to drop something," Frank said as they saw the cabin door open. The pilot shoved out a large package, and it plummeted to the ice a short distance away.

The boys rushed to examine it. "Let's hope it's food!" Joe exclaimed.

Frank cut the twine with his jackknife and tore off the heavy wrapping paper. Inside were a pair of sheepskin coats rolled around a cardboard box. The box, warm to the touch, proved to contain roast-beef sandwiches, two thermos bottles of cocoa, and a note from Robbie Robbins, which said: Dear Frank and Joe: The copter is laid up for repairs, but here's something to keep you going. After jvu've 64 eaten, start walking toward the mouth of the glacier. I'll send a car to meet you. Robbie Robbing Frank read the note with a slight frown. "Tough break," he commented.

"Never mind, let's eat!" said Joe cheerfully. "My mouth's watering!"

The boys waved their thanks to the pilot, still circling overhead. He dipped his wings in response and flew off. Frank and Joe donned the sheepskins gratefully, then tackled the sandwiches with gusto. Their spirits rose with every bite.

"Man, those tasted wonderful!" Joe said as he swallowed the last mouthful. "Almost as good as Mom's or Aunt Gertrude's!"

Frank agreed and finished his cocoa. "Let's get going. We've got a long trip to the mouth of the glacier."

Greatly invigorated, the Hardys began their trek. At first they enjoyed the rugged grandeur of the mountain scenery. They were snug in their warm sheepskins, and the brisk wind blowing down from the glacier made their blood tingle.

"When summer vacation started, I never thought we'd wind up hiking on ice!" Joe remarked with a chuckle.

"We should have brought skates," Frank added with a grin.

65 As the afternoon wore on, however, the boys began to feel the effects of the dangerous journey. Their leg muscles ached from the constant strain of keeping their footing on the ice.