erful frame of his youthful
body had only gained in mass and left him the more capable of
withstanding the demands which his life on the merciless plateau made
upon his endurance.

Julyman, too, was much the Julyman of bygone years. The only change in
him was that opportunity had robbed him of many of those lapses he had
been wont to indulge in. But he was still no nearer the glory of a halo.
Oolak alone displayed the wear and tear of the life that was theirs. His
body was slightly askew from the disaster of the return from the first
visit to Unaga, and one leg was shorter than the other. But the effect
of these things was only in appearance. His vigour of body remained
unimpaired. His silence was even more profound. And his mastery of the
trail dogs left him a source of endless admiration to his companions.

Steve dipped some tea into a pannikin.

"Oolak had a nightmare, I guess," he said, feeling that a gentle
ridicule could do no harm.

Julyman grinned his relief that the white man saw nothing serious in
that which all Indians regard as the voice of the spirits haunting their
world.

"Oolak eat plenty, much," he observed slyly.

Steve helped himself to meat from the pan and dipped some beans from the
camp kettle beside the fire.

"Dreams are damn-fool things, anyway," he said. Then he laughed, "Guess
we've dreamed dreams these fourteen years. And we're still sitting
around waiting for things to happen."

Despite his concern Oolak tore at the meat with his sharp teeth, and ate
with noisy satisfaction.

"Him all fire. Burn up all things. Oh, yes. Bimeby we find him," he said
doggedly.

Steve was in the act of drinking. He paused, his pannikin remaining
poised.

"You guess----"

"Him fire," said Oolak, wiping the grease from his lips on the sleeve
of his furs. "Him big fires. Oolak know. Him not eat plenty. Him see
this thing. The spirits show him so he know all time."

Steve gulped his tea down, and set the pannikin on the ground.

"That's crazy," he declared. "It's not spirits who show Oolak. It's as
Julyman says. He eats plenty. So he dreams fool things that don't mean a
thing. Oolak doesn't need to believe the spirits are busy around him
when he sleeps."

He laughed in the face of the unsmiling Oolak. But his laugh was cut
short by the Indian's stolid response.

"Boss white man know all things plenty," he said, with the patient calm
of a mind made up. "He big man. Oh, yes. Him bigger as all Ind