cover the
steamer, or any signs of it, turned inquiringly back toward Abel, still
standing in the bow, Abel pointed to the smoke rising from the fire, and
repeated:

"_Pujolik! Pujolik_!"

Then Skipper Ed and Jimmy understood, and they laughed too. It was a
great joke, Abel thought, and for an hour afterward he indulged at
intervals in quiet chuckles, and even after the two boats had drawn
alongside, and tea and fried bear's steaks had been passed to Skipper Ed
and Jimmy, that they too might share in the feast, Abel laughed.

It was noon the following day when the boats drew up to the old landing
place on Itigailit Island, and an hour later the two tents were pitched
on Abel Zachariah's old camping ground, and everything was as snug and
settled, and they were all as perfectly at home, as though they had been
living there for months.

Then the dogs in the skiffs were brought ashore and released from their
two days' confinement, and Abel's train and Skipper Ed's train, after
the manner of Eskimo dogs, immediately engaged in a pitched battle. They
began by snarling and snapping at one another with ugly, bared fangs,
and then followed a rush toward each other and they became a rolling,
tumbling mass of fearsome, fighting creatures, and had to be beaten
asunder with stout sticks before they could be induced to settle into
their quiet and uneventful summer existence.

When all was arranged Bobby, after his custom, walked quietly back to
the cairn which he had built in previous summers to mark the grave of
the mysterious man that Abel and Mrs. Abel had buried so many years
before, and Jimmy went with him.

"I often wonder," said Bobby, as he replaced some stones that winter
storms had loosed, "who the man was and how he came by his death. I
remember I called him Uncle Robert, but I can't remember much else about
him, and that is like a dream."

"I wonder if he really was your uncle?" suggested Jimmy.

"I don't know," said Bobby. "I try to remember, until my head is
spinning with it, and sometimes it seems as though I am going to
remember what happened away back there. It's just as though I had lived
before, and I think of bright lights, and beautiful things, and
wonderful people. I wonder if Father and Mother are right, and what I
remember is heaven? Do you think so, Jimmy?"

"I--I wonder, now!" Jimmy's voice was filled with awe. "Maybe you did
come from heaven, Bobby!"

"I don't believe so," and Bobby was practic