hen for a time she was happy trying to forget the
white man's neglect. It was better than his abuse and curses which she
had meekly borne; but which still sorely rankled in her bosom. Her
parents did not upbraid her. They appeared to have forgotten the girl's
pride on her wedding day, and had only kind words for their sad-hearted
daughter in her trouble. But sympathy alone could not put food in her
mouth nor that of her boy, and winter was approaching.

Her parents had many children, and others depended upon them, and little
with which to feed them. The fishing season had been a poor one. Nets
and seines had been placed in streams as usual by the Eskimo, but many
of these had been destroyed by white men, and where this was not the
case the waters of creeks and rivers had been so muddied by mining
operations as to ruin all chances of securing fish.

* * * * *

It was a cold and wintry night. The snow was sifting over the tundra in
icy gusts from the westward. Morning would see all snow-hidden,
including the huts of the four remaining natives on the sandspit between
the river and the sea.

Estella's camp fire was dead. There was neither sticks nor coals to feed
it. A long-drawn wail from her boy lying huddled in skins upon the
ground, reminded her of other deficiencies--there was nothing to eat in
the igloo--absolutely nothing. Both were cold and hungry.

Wrapping herself and her little boy as warmly as possible, she took the
child's hand and started down the street of the mining camp in the
blizzard. There were places open to her. There were the saloons. They
were at least filled with warmth and brightness, and she would there be
safe from freezing till morning. There were undoubtedly other dangers,
but these she could not now contemplate. She could not let her baby
freeze while starving.

Making her way along with her boy between the winter blasts, the little
one clinging tightly to her hand, she approached the door.

Lights were shining brightly through the windows, and she heard voices.
Would she meet her husband if she entered? She hoped not, for she must
go in. It was death to remain outside. Timidly she placed her hand upon
the door and partly opened it, glancing quickly about the room to note
its occupants.

The flaring of the lamps indicated her presence.

[Illustration: "_The little one clinging tightly to her hand she
approached the door_"]

"Shut the door, you beggar!