courage in all the world--a woman's courage--which
finds in the effort of its achievement no obstacle too high and no abyss
too wide though death waits with outreaching arms on the other side.
And, surely, where there had been all this, there must also have been
some deeper and finer impulse than one of destruction, of physical gain,
or of mere duty in the weaving of a human scheme.

The thought and the desire to believe brought words half aloud from
Alan's lips, as he looked up again at the flags beating softly above his
cabin. Mary Standish was not what Stampede's discovery had proclaimed
her to be; there was some mistake, a monumental stupidity of reasoning
on their part, and tomorrow would reveal the littleness and the
injustice of their suspicions. He tried to force the conviction upon
himself, and reentering the cabin he went to bed, still telling himself
that a great lie had built itself up out of nothing, and that the God of
all things was good to him because Mary Standish was alive, and
not dead.

CHAPTER XVII

Alan slept soundly for several hours, but the long strain of the
preceding day did not make him overreach the time he had set for
himself, and he was up at six o'clock. Wegaruk had not forgotten her old
habits, and a tub filled with cold water was waiting for him. He bathed,
shaved himself, put on fresh clothes, and promptly at seven was at
breakfast. The table at which he ordinarily sat alone was in a little
room with double windows, through which, as he enjoyed his meals, he
could see most of the habitations of the range. Unlike the average
Eskimo dwellings they were neatly built of small timber brought down
from the mountains, and were arranged in orderly fashion like the
cottages of a village, strung out prettily on a single street. A sea of
flowers lay in front of them, and at the end of the row, built on a
little knoll that looked down into one of the watered hollows of the
tundra, was Sokwenna's cabin. Because Sokwenna was the "old man" of the
community and therefore the wisest--and because with him lived his
foster-daughters, Keok and Nawadlook, the loveliest of Alan's tribal
colony--Sokwenna's cabin was next to Alan's in size. And Alan, looking
at it now and then as he ate his breakfast, saw a thin spiral of smoke
rising from the chimney, but no other sign of life.

The sun was already up almost to its highest point, a little more than
half-way between the horizon and the zenith, perform