ng off the ferocious welcome of dogs of
the post.

For a moment he watched the boy's amazing efforts. Then as the tumult
subsided he turned again to the patient woman awaiting his verdict.

"You're a good woman, An-ina," he said simply. "You've told me the whole
thing as you see it. Well, I guess I can't ask more. Anyway I'm camping
here for the winter, an' during that time I'll need to wake some of
these 'sleepers.' I've got to get out and see what happened at that 'big
place.' Later on, when the snow goes, why--Say, I guess there isn't a
thing to keep you and little Marcel around here--now."

CHAPTER VII

THE HARVEST OF WINTER

Steve was confronted with six months of desperate winter on the plateau
of Unaga. It was an outlook that demanded all the strength of his simple
faith. He was equal to the tasks lying before him, but not for one
moment did he underestimate them.

For all the harshness of the life which claimed him Steve's whole nature
was imbued with a saneness of sympathy, a deep kindliness of spirit that
left him master of himself under every emotion. The great governing
factor in his life was a strength of honest purpose. A purpose, in its
turn, prompted by his sense of right and justice, and those things which
have their inspiration in a broad generosity of spirit. So it was that
under all conditions his conscience remained at peace.

It was supported by such feelings that he faced the tasks which the
desperate heart of Unaga imposed upon him. He had the care of an
orphaned child, he had the care of that child's Indian nurse, and the
lives and well-being of his own two men charged up against him. He also
had the investigations which he had been sent to make, and furthermore,
there was his own life to be preserved for the woman he loved, and the
infant child of their love, waiting for his return a thousand miles
away. The work was the work of a giant rather than a man; but never for
one moment did his confidence fail him.

The days following the arrival at the post were urgent. They were days
of swift thought and prompt action. The open season was gone, and the
struggle for existence might begin without a moment's warning. Steve
knew. Everyone knew. That is, everyone except little Marcel.

The boy accepted every changing condition without thought, and busied
himself with the preparations of his new friends. It had no significance
for him that all day long the forest rang with the clip of th