"Pull on the stockings," said Thimble to Arlene. Arlene did so. The stockings were of lart fur. Each, in its side, wore the sign of the looped binding fiber. "Now," said Thimble, "the boots." In cold weather a layer of grass, for warmth, for insulation, changed daily, is placed in the bottom of the boots, between the inside sole of the boot and the foot of the stocking. Arlene now, of course, did not bother with this. The best harvests of grass for use in this way occur, naturally at the foot of the bird cliffs. Arlene drew on the high boots. They reached to her crotch. It was a hot crotch, as I had determined, a superb crotch for a slave girl. The fur trim at their top touched the panties. She was stripped from the waist up. Many of the women of the red hunters, too, went about so, inside and outside the tents, in the warmer weather. They of course, being free, did not have leather, like Arlene, or bondage strings, like Thimble and Thistle, at their throats. Similarly, their garments did not bear the slave marks of the looped binding fiber. Such marks, of course, were not necessary, in the north, for determining what Thimble, and Thistle and Arlene were. Even the leather or bondage strings at their throats were not necessary for that purpose. Their white skins alone, as they were females, identified them as slave beasts.
The tiny tabuk which Imnak had dropped remained standing upright.
I took my eyes from Arlene. What a lovely catch she had been!
I had not yet bothered to teach her complete slavery. I was in no hurry. Let her retain for a time a shred of her pride and dignity. I could always rip it from her when I wished, or when she herself should beg me to take it from her.
"Try on the shirt, Slave Girl," said Thimble.
Arlene drew on the hide shirt. At the left shoulder, prominently, it bore the sign of the looped binding fiber. I glanced at her and she straightened her body, but then tossed her head and looked away, as though disdaining to take cognizance of my appraisal. The shirt fell nicely from her breasts, standing as she was. She was exquisitely figured. She stood as few Earth girls would have dared to, displaying her beauty, though she appeared to be completely disinterested in any such objective. I smiled to myself. She was discovering her sexuality. She looked at me, and then, quickly, looked away. I wondered if she knew she was being brought along slowly as a slave. Sometimes I read in her eyes a look that said, "I can resist you," and, at other times, a look that said, "I begin to sense and fear what you might do to me. Please be kind, Master." Once she had said to me, angrily, "You are dallying with me, aren't you, Master?" "Perhaps," I had told her. "Perhaps, Slave Girl."
I dropped the tiny carved tabuk I held. It, too, remained upright.
Imnak picked up his tiny carved tabuk and held it over the fur mat.
Arlene made a small noise. I sensed that she was angry that I no longer looked upon her.
Was she not sufficiently beautiful? She had a girl's vanity. Did she not yet know she was a slave, and that she might account herself fortunate should a free man so much as glance in her direction?
"Try on the first parka," said Thimble.
Arlene slipped it on, over the head, as such garments, like northern garments generally, are donned.
"Hood," said Thimble.
Arlene lifted the hood and placed it properly.
"Do I please you, Master?" asked Arlene. She wished attention.
I looked up. Her face was very beautiful, rimmed in the lart fur trimming the hood.
"It is very nice," I said.
"Thank you, Master," she said, acidly.
"Put on the second parka and its hood," said Thimble. Arlene complied. Both the parkas bore, at their left shoulder, the design of looped binding fiber, identifying them as the garments of slaves.
"Master?" asked Arlene.
"Excellent," I said. 'The garments are superb, and you are very beautiful in them."
She flushed. "Thank you, Master," she said. Then she said, acidly, "A girl is pleased if her master is pleased."
"It is well," I said, soberly. She trembled, momentarily.
"Take them off," said Thimble, "all of them, everything, except the leather on your throat."
"Yes, Mistress," said Arlene.
Arlene stripped herself, to the leather collar, in Imnak's hide tent. Thimble and Thisile were also naked. All were girls, only slave beasts in the tent of their masters.
I dropped the tiny carved tabuk which was mine, that which was my piece in the game. It did not land upright.
"I have won," said Imnak.
"What are you gambling about?" asked Arlene. She was folding her garments.
"Put away the garments," I said, "drop to all fours, and come here."
Arlene put the folded garments to one side in the tent, and, in fury, on her hands and knees, crawled to where we had played.
I put my hand in her hair and pulled her to her stomach. "Here she is," I told Imnak.
"Master!" she cried.
Imnak took her and turned her over, pulling her on her back across his legs.
"Master!" cried Arlene.
"Imnak has won your use, until he chooses to leave the tent," I told her. "Obey him as though he were your own master."
"Please, no!" she cried.
"Obey him," I said, sternly, "as though he were your own master."
"Yes, Master," she said, miserably.
Imnak then dragged her to the side of the hide tent.
Perhaps I was struck most by the absence of trees.
Some five days after I had acquired the slave girl, Arlene, following the herd of Tancred, generally climbing, I came to the edge of Ax Glacier. There I found the camp of Imnak, and Thimble and Thistle.
"I have been waiting for you," had said Imnak. "I thought you would come."
"Why did you think this?" I had asked.
"I saw the furs and supplies you put aside for yourself when we were near the wall," he said. "You have business in the north."
"It is true," I said.
He did not ask me my business. He was a red hunter. If I wished to tell him, he knew that I would. I decided that I would speak to him later. In my pouch was the small carving, in bluish stone, of the head of a Kur, one with an ear half torn away.
"I had hoped you would wait for me," I said. "It might be difficult otherwise for one such as myself to cross the ice.
I knew that he had watched me prepare my pack.
Imnak grinned. "It was you," said he, "who freed the tabuk." Then he turned to his girls. "Break camp," he had told them. "I am anxious to go home."
With Imnak's help we would cross Ax Glacier and find the Innuit, as they called themselves, a word which, in their own tongue, means "the People." I recalled that in the message of Zarendargar he had referred to himself as a war general of the "People." He had meant, of course, I assumed, his own people, or kind. Various groups are inclined to so identify themselves. It is an arrogance which is culturally common. The Innuit do not have "war generals." War, in its full sense, is unknown to them. They live generally in scattered, isolated communities. It is as though two families lived separated in a vast remote area. There would be little point and little likelihood to their having a war. In the north one needs friends, not enemies. In good years, when the weather is favorable, there tends to be enough sleen and tabuk, with careful hunting, to meet their needs. One community is not likely to be much better or worse of than another. There is little loot to be acquired. What one needs one can generally hunt or make for oneself. There is little point in stealing from someone what one can as simply acquire for oneself. Within given groups, incidentally, theft is rare. The smallness of the groups provides a powerful social control. If one were to steal something where would one hide or sell it? Besides, if one wished something someone else owned and let this be known, the owner would quite possibly give it to you, expecting, of course, to receive as valuable a gift in return. Borrowing, too, is prevalent among the red hunters. The loan of furs, tools and women is common.