in my dear
one."

"How did it happen? I mean your wound," asked Cabot, abruptly changing
the subject. "Was it an accident?"

"It may have been, but I believe not. Dressed in wolf skins, I was
creeping up on a small herd of caribou two days ago, when I was shot by
some unknown person, probably an Indian hunting the same game, though I
never saw him. I managed to crawl home, and as I lay here, filled with
the horror of dying alone, the ringing of my alarm bell announced a
coming of either man or beast. I found strength to turn on the outer
lights and to sound a call for aid on my violin that I hoped would be
heard and understood."

"It was fortunate for me that you did both those things," said Cabot,
"for I should certainly have remained where I fell after stumbling over
the wire if it had not been for the combination of light and music.
But tell me, sir, why have you masqueraded as a man-wolf?"

"For convenience in hunting, as well as to inspire terror in the minds
of savages and keep them at a respectful distance from this place."

"Have they ever troubled you?"

"At first they were inclined to, but not of late years."

"Not of late years! Why, sir, how many years have you dwelt in this
place?"

"A little more than five."

"Five years alone and cut off from the world! I should think you would
feel like a prisoner shut in a dungeon."

"No, for I have led the life of my own choice, and it has been full of
active interests. I have had to hunt, trap, and fish for my own
support. I have tried to redress some wrongs, and have been able to
relieve much distress among the improvident natives. I have busied
myself with electrical experiments, and have explored the surrounding
country for a hundred miles on all sides."

"Have you discovered any indications of mineral wealth during your
explorations?" asked the young engineer, recalling his previous thought
on this subject.

"Quite a number, of which the most important is right here; for this
range of cliffs is so largely composed of red hematite as to form one
of the richest ore beds in the world."

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CABOT IS LEFT ALONE.

Deeply interested and affected as Cabot had been by the electrician's
story, his excitement over its conclusion caused him momentarily to
forget everything else.

"Does the ore show anywhere about here?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes. Lift one of the skins hanging against the wall and you will find
it. It is b