and big, like eyes of
wolves beyond a camp fire; the days of endless gabblings from the
sinking man, and the all pervading cold.

At last, knowledge dawned upon the invalid, and he called his
companion to his side. Shivering there beneath the thin tent,
Captain heard a story, rambling at first, filled with hatred and
bitterness toward the men who had scoffed at him, yet at the last he
listened eagerly, amazedly, and upon its conclusion rose suddenly,
gazing at the dying man in horror.

"My God, Klusky! Hell isn't black enough for you. It can't be true,
it can't be. You're raving! Do you mean to say that you let those
poor devils die like rats while you had potatoes in your cabin, fresh
ones? Man! Man! The juice of every potato was worth a life.
You're lying, Klusky."

"I ain't. No, I ain't. I hate them! I said they should crawl on
their bellies to me. Yes, and I should wring the money out. A
hundred dollars for von potato. I stole them all. Ha! ha! and I
kept them varm. Oh, yes! Alvays varm by the fire, so they shall be
good and fine for the day."

"That's why you left the Indian there when we came away, eh? To keep
a fire."

"Shoor! and I thought I shall kill you and go back alone so nobody
shall make for the rescue. Then I should have the great laugh."

Captain bared his head to the cold outside the tent. He was dazed by
the thought of it. The man was crazed by abuse. The camp had paid
for its folly!

Then a hope sprang up in him. It was too late to go on and return
with the deer; that is, too late for George, and he thought only of
him; of the big, brave man sitting alone in the cabin, shunned by the
others, waiting quietly for his coming, tracing the relentless daily
march of the disease. Why didn't the Jew die so he could flee back?
He had promised not to desert him, and he could not break his word to
a dying man, even though the wretch deserved damnation. But why
couldn't he die? What made him hang on so? In his idle hours he
arranged a pack for the start, assembling his rations. He could not
be hampered by the sled. This was to be a race--he must travel long
and fast. The sick man saw the preparations, and cried weakly, the
tears freezing on his cheeks, and still he lingered, lingered
maddeningly, till at last, when Captain had lost count of the days,
he passed without a twitch and, before the body had cooled, the
northward bluffs hid the plodding, snow-shoed figure hurry