the
blood was near, and that both smell and footfall were coming from the
old kloof where yellow skulls still lay, dripping with the water that
had once run red. Alan was one of the few who, by reason of much effort,
had learned the story of the kloof from old Sokwenna; how, so long ago
that Sokwenna was a young man, a hostile tribe had descended upon his
people, killing the men and stealing the women; and how at last Sokwenna
and a handful of his tribesmen fled south with what women were left and
made a final stand in the kloof, and there, on a day that was golden and
filled with the beauty of bird-song and flowers, had ambushed their
enemies and killed them to a man. All were dead now, all but Sokwenna.

For a space Alan was sorry he had called Sokwenna to his cabin. He was
no longer the cheerful and gentle "old man" of his people; the old man
who chortled with joy at the prettiness and play of Keok and Nawadlook,
who loved birds and flowers and little children, and who had retained an
impish boyhood along with his great age. He was changed. He stood before
Alan an embodiment of fatalism, mumbling incoherent things in his
breath, a spirit of evil omen lurking in his sunken eyes, and his thin
hands gripping like bird-claws to his rifle. Alan threw off the
uncomfortable feeling that had gripped him for a moment, and set him to
an appointed task--the watching of the southward plain from the crest of
a tall ridge two miles back on the Tanana trail. He was to return when
the sun reached its horizon.

Alan was inspired now by a great caution, a growing premonition which
stirred him with uneasiness, and he began his own preparations as soon
as Sokwenna had started on his mission. The desire to leave at once,
without the delay of an hour, pulled strong in him, but he forced
himself to see the folly of such haste. He would be away many months,
possibly a year this time. There was much to do, a mass of detail to
attend to, a volume of instructions and advice to leave behind him. He
must at least see Stampede, and it was necessary to write down certain
laws for Tautuk and Amuk Toolik. As this work of preparation progressed,
and the premonition persisted in remaining with him, he fell into a
habit of repeating to himself the absurdity of fears and the
impossibility of danger. He tried to make himself feel uncomfortably
foolish at the thought of having ordered the herdsmen in. In all
probability Graham would not appear at all, he