he had
permitted her in the midst of the terrors of this desolate Northern
country. Her answer came at once. It came full of her generosity.

"Ah," she cried quickly. "You think all this thing--you men! An' what
An-ina think? Oh, An-ina think much. So much. Listen. She tell. Marcel
him big feller. Him mak' summer trail. Far--far. An-ina not know. Him
wolf all come around. Him river with much water--rapids--rocks. Him
muskeg. Him everything bad, an' much danger. An-ina she not say, 'An-ina
come too, so no harm come by Marcel.' She say, 'no.' Marcel big man.
Marcel brave. Him fight big. So him God of white man kill Marcel all up,
then An-ina heart all break, but she say it all His will. So she not
say nothing. Steve him go by Unaga, where all him devil men. They get
him. They kill him. Then An-ina all mak' big weep--inside. She say
nothing. She not say 'An-ina come, too, so she frighten all devil men
away.' Oh, no. An-ina woman. She not scare any more as Steve an' Marcel.
She sit by fire. She mak' Steve him shirt. She have gun, plenty. No man
come. Oh, no. She not scare for nothing. An-ina brave woman, too. Steve,
Marcel mak' her coward. Oh, no. Outfit ready--Julyman--Oolak--all him
dogs. Yes. Steve him go--right away. Bimeby Marcel him come. So."

An-ina's voice was low and soft. But for all her halting use of the
white man's tongue, with which she found so much difficulty, there was
decision and earnest in every word she uttered. There was the force,
too, of a brave, clear-thinking mind in it. And it left Steve with
difficulty in answering her. Besides for all his desire to protest, he
knew he must go, or sacrifice that thing which had brought him to Unaga.

With characteristic decision he accepted her protest. He knew her
generosity and courage. But a sense of shame was not lacking at the
thought that the very position he had used to convince Marcel could not
be allowed to stand where his purpose was threatened.

"I've got to go," he said almost doggedly. "But I hate the thought of
leaving you, An-ina. If Marcel would only get around now, I'd feel easy.
But there's not a sign of him. He's late--late and--Psha! It's no sort
of use. I must pull out right away."

He stood up from the counter and came over to the stove. An-ina's dark
eyes watched him. Even in her untutored mind she understood the strength
of character which overrode his every scruple, his every sentiment. Her
regard for him was something of idolatry, a