CHAPTER VIII

"And why should I not be proud of my race?"

Frona's cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkling. They had both been
harking back to childhood, and she had been telling Corliss of her
mother, whom she faintly remembered. Fair and flaxen-haired, typically
Saxon, was the likeness she had drawn, filled out largely with
knowledge gained from her father and from old Andy of the Dyea Post.
The discussion had then turned upon the race in general, and Frona had
said things in the heat of enthusiasm which affected the more
conservative mind of Corliss as dangerous and not solidly based on
fact. He deemed himself too large for race egotism and insular
prejudice, and had seen fit to laugh at her immature convictions.

"It's a common characteristic of all peoples," he proceeded, "to
consider themselves superior races,--a naive, natural egoism, very
healthy and very good, but none the less manifestly untrue. The Jews
conceived themselves to be God's chosen people, and they still so
conceive themselves--"

"And because of it they have left a deep mark down the page of
history," she interrupted.

"But time has not proved the stability of their conceptions. And you
must also view the other side. A superior people must look upon all
others as inferior peoples. This comes home to you. To be a Roman
were greater than to be a king, and when the Romans rubbed against your
savage ancestors in the German forests, they elevated their brows and
said, 'An inferior people, barbarians.'"

"But we are here, now. We are, and the Romans are not. The test is
time. So far we have stood the test; the signs are favorable that we
shall continue to stand it. We are the best fitted!"

"Egotism."

"But wait. Put it to the test."

As she spoke her hand flew out impulsively to his. At the touch his
heart pulsed upward, there was a rush Of blood and a tightening across
the temples. Ridiculous, but delightful, he thought. At this rate he
could argue with her the night through.

"The test," she repeated, withdrawing her hand without embarrassment.
"We are a race of doers and fighters, of globe-encirclers and
zone-conquerors. We toil and struggle, and stand by the toil and
struggle no matter how hopeless it may be. While we are persistent and
resistant, we are so made that we fit ourselves to the most diverse
conditions. Will the Indian, the Negro, or the Mongol ever conquer the
Teuton? Surely not! The Indian has p