, which, against all reason, had changed
the whole outlook of the future.

Unaga! Could it be? Was that the secret hiding-place of Nature? Could he
make it? How far? Where? Somewhere within the boundaries of the Arctic
ice? Maybe. He could not tell. The Spire was for all to see. Somewhere
beyond. Somewhere lost in the grey world of the North. A lure to--what?
A hundred miles. Two. Three. Four. No, he could not estimate. He did
not know. All he knew was that it was there, a fiery pillar, the simple
sight of which set the heart of the Indian quaking. Was it there that
the secret of the Adresol plant lay hidden? Was it there that the sturdy
Sleepers dared the summer trail for their priceless treasure? What
monstrous conditions had produced it? What amazing anachronism had
Nature created in the far-off Arctic world?

And the terror of that journey in the dead of winter. It was a journey
into the unknown, unguessed heart of a world's desolation. Was it
possible? Was it within human powers of endurance? If the land of fire
were the nursery whence the Sleepers drew their supplies of Adresol they
made the journey. But it was in summer. Winter? Was it possible?

Yes. It was possible. It must be made possible. If it were not, if the
effort were too great he could always pay the price. Marcel had grown to
manhood. Fourteen years of failure had elapsed since the taking of his
great decision. Here was a prospect. Here was a chance. Had he not in
the past fourteen years taken every chance? Well, it was no time to
shrink before the fiery heart of Unaga.

The men devoured their food. Steve had no desire to talk of his new-born
inspiration. Bald words would never convince these primitive creatures.
They looked to him for leadership. It was for him to dictate. It was for
them to follow. To discuss the project he contemplated would weaken his
authority.

So he smoked on in silence, with a tumult of thought passing behind the
steady eyes gazing so deeply into the heart of the fire.

CHAPTER III

MANHOOD

An-ina watched them pass out of the store together, her dark eyes
following them until they vanished beyond the range of the doorway. Her
regard for both was intense. The untamed Indian heart knew no
reservations. She had no thought for anything in the world but these two
men, and that which pertained to their well-being.

The depth of her devotion was unfathomable. Only its quality varied with
each. For the one it was t