en he
corrected himself. "Not in my recollection. But I know what it is.
That's the Heart of Unaga. It's a heart always afire. It's real red-hot
fire that no man's ever had the nerve to get near. The Eskimo know it.
And it scares them to death. They sort of reckon it's the world where
the devil reigns. The hell that some folks reckon is real, and
hot--and--hellish. But the feller that banks on learning and isn't
worried by superstition'll just hand you the plain truth. It's a
volcano, a real, live volcano which they reckon is the heart of Unaga."

The awe in Keeko's eyes only deepened.

"It's--it's just amazing," she cried. Then she added with a deep breath,
"It's--dreadful."

* * * * *

From the moment of their landing on the shores of the lake Marcel and
Keeko became absorbed in the work that had brought them thither.

The wonder of the fiery Heart of Unaga swiftly passed, and only in the
brief moments over the camp-fire its fascination claimed them. At such
moments neither was quite free from the superstition they derided. For
Keeko it was a mystery of the unknown. For Marcel it was, perhaps, the
key to the whole life effort of the man who was his second father.

But the fur hunt was theirs, and with this no mystery of Unaga was
permitted to interfere. Marcel was determined on a result such as he had
never desired before. He dreamed of silver fox, he thought of silver
fox. Silver and black fox had become the sole purpose of his life.

So they beat this great, wide, half-created valley with trap and gun.
They beat it up with all the skill of a life of experience, and reward
came plentifully. It came rapidly, too. Sometimes it was almost
overwhelming.

It was a land teeming with game of every description known to the
regions north of 60 deg.. The neighbourhood of the lake was alive with
feather. Geese swarmed in their thousands, and there were moments when
the sky was black with their legions. Duck, too, of every description
had winged up from the south to the virgin waters of the North as Nature
reluctantly released these hunting-grounds from the bonds of winter.
Beaver and musk-ox, caribou and black-tail, reindeer and all the legions
of lesser furs abounded. Thus, in consequence, it was the normal
hunting-ground of the pariah of the beast world. Fox swarmed to the
feast that was spread out. And it was the fox alone that needed to fear
the coming of the fur hunter.

The slaugh