Steve watched the little fellow with a tender smile. He was so small, so
full of happy life and engaging simplicity. Then he had such a wonderful
picture face, with its fringe of curling hair which thrust its way out
from under the thick, arctic helmet of fur which was part of his outer
clothing. For a moment, as he bundled over the snow like a brown woolly
ball, Steve wondered how he managed it, so encased was his small figure
in seal-skin. But he did, and his high-pitched greeting to the man with
the dog train floated back upon the still, cold air as he floundered
farther and farther away.

"Hello!--hello!--hello!"

The greeting came back at intervals. And Steve wondered at the feelings
of the silent Oolak when he heard that voice, and saw that baby figure
sprinting and wobbling over the snow towards him.

"Missis gone--dead."

"Gone--dead!"

Steve turned with a start. He was looking into the handsome face of the
squaw, An-ina, whose words he had echoed.

"Missis all gone--dead!" the squaw repeated with a solemn inclination of
the head.

But the re-affirmation was unneeded. Full confirmation was in her wide
dark eyes, which were full of every grievous emotion short of tears.
Tears were something of which her stoic Indian nature was incapable.
But Steve knew well enough the weight of grief which lay behind the
stricken expression which looked out of the enveloping hood of the
woman's tunic of seal.

For a moment he gazed into An-ina's face in helpless silence. For the
moment the tragedy of the whole thing left him groping. He knew this
woman had come to him seeking guidance. In that moment of disaster he
felt that the destiny of little Marcel and his devoted nurse had been
flung into his hands.

"Come," he said with swift decision. "We'll get right back--to her."

* * * * *

Steve was at the bedside. He was bending low over the still, calm
figure, so straight, so rigid under the blanket covering. He was reading
for himself, and in his own way, the brief account of those last moments
when her spirit had yielded before those other overwhelming powers it
had been impossible to resist.

Every disfiguring line of suffering had passed out of the beautiful,
youthful face. For all the marble coldness which had taken possession of
it Steve realized something of the splendid, smiling, courageous
womanhood which had struggled so recklessly in support of the man for
whom she had giv