d convinced him of
the hopeless recklessness of denying him. So twenty of the young men
were found who reluctantly enough gave up the last month of their
winter's sleep. And now he had returned with his work accomplished.

Steve had no illusions upon the desperate nature of the rush for home.
He knew the chances he was taking. A week's preparation. He could spare
no more time. A journey on foot of some hundreds of miles. An Indian
carry-all hauled by reindeer for the boy and the camp outfit, the dogs
to be herded without burden till their usefulness could serve. For each
man, and An-ina, the burden of a heavy pack. Such preparations were
wholly inadequate. He knew that. He was staking the courage and
endurance of those he was responsible for against a ruthless,
inhospitable world.

Oh, yes, his eyes were wide to the dangers that lay ahead. He knew them
all. He had visions of a dripping, melting land. He knew the spring
rains with their awesome powers of washout and flood. The blinding,
steaming fogs of the high altitudes. So with the glacial avalanches, and
the terror of thawing tundra, shaking, treacherous, bottomless.

The week passed rapidly and the moment for the "pull-out" came. The
Indians were awake, and their winter quarters in the woods had been
abandoned for the domed igloos of the open season. The fort was alive
with their comings and goings. They were alert for the promised spoils.

Peaceable, kindly, the sturdy undersized people of the outlands were
driven to a supreme selfishness by reason of the conditions under which
they lived. They cared little for anything but that which the white folk
could provide. Without interest or ambitions, beyond such comfort as
they could snatch from life, they desired only to be left in peace. But
with real amiability they wished the stranger well in his going.

The post presented a curious enough scene on the morning of departure.
And to Steve, at least, thought of it was to recur many times in the
great struggle that lay before him. The poles of the carry-all, their
ends trailing upon the ground, loaded with camp outfit and ready for the
boy, stood just within the stockade. The dogs were ready and waiting
under Oolak's charge. Inside the store, Steve supported by Julyman and
An-ina, and the child Marcel, occupied the well-worn bench beside the
stove.

He was receiving the farewell words of the old chief, Wanak-aha, who was
thankful enough to see the last of the distu