mingling without responsibility with the elements.

But lately, he admitted reluctantly to himself, even in his moments of
keenest alcoholic pleasure, he had been aware of an underthought that
his exalted mood must pass leaving him more colorless, more listless,
more inclined to drift than before. It took more of Kayak's whisky to
produce an effect now than it had in the beginning. Perhaps, in time,
he might even grow to be like Silvertip. . . . He shuddered. It
sickened and dismayed him to realize how the pale liquor had already
enslaved him--to what it might lead him.

Another thing troubled him also. Ever since the night of the Potlatch
dance which he had been too intoxicated to attend, something vague but
insistent at the back of his consciousness strove to make itself
remembered. Something he had heard in a half-drugged sleep. Something
about gold and Kon Klayu. An idea persisted that on him depended some
grave issue, but strive as he would he could not remember what it was.

Once, as he swam in the dawn below the Point in an effort to clear his
cloudy brain, he prolonged his course until he found himself close to
the hull of the _Hoonah_. It gave him satisfaction to find that
despite three months of heavy drinking at Katleean, his daily plunge in
the sea had kept him physically fit. He looked at the trim little
schooner cradling her sleeping crew. Green wavelets lapped against the
clean white side, and below the water-line the red of the bottom
glimmered. Her upcurving prow seemed to urge to sea adventures. He
wished he might go with Boreland to spend the winter on the Island of
Kon Klayu. But this, he knew, was not possible. He had work to do at
Katleean and it was time he was beginning it. And Ellen Boreland--he
was not unaware that she disapproved of him and did her best to keep
her sister from friendship with him. . . . But--he might make the trip
to the island and back to help Silvertip, whom Kilbuck had detailed to
pilot the _Hoonah_ to Kon Klayu. Silver was not fond of work. He
would welcome the extra help in bringing the vessel home again from Kon
Klayu. . . . Kon Klayu! The words tantalized him afresh with his
failure to remember the thing he should. Perhaps the sight of that
mysterious island, though he had never seen it, might bring back to him
the memory he sought. . . . He decided suddenly. When the _Hoonah_
sailed for the Island of Kon Klayu he would be aboard, even though he