ing from some
careless mother more intent upon sporting affairs than domestic duties,
paraded superciliously up and down, plainly bored by the proceedings;
but attending because it was the correct thing to do.

What a relief it was to reach the open space on the ice of Bering Sea,
in front of the town, where the fast gathering multitudes were being
held back by ropes, and kept in line by Marshals in trappings of the
club colors.

Presently the merry jingle of bells, and loud shouts, announced the
approach of the Royal Sled. Covered with magnificent wolf robes, and
drawn by twelve young men, fur-clad from head to foot--her "human
huskies"--the Queen of the North dashed up to the Royal Box, where,
surrounded by her ten pretty maids of honor, like her clad in rare furs
of Arctic design and fashioning, she was given an imposing reception by
the judges and directors of the Kennel Club.

In one hand the Queen carried a quaintly carved scepter of ivory, made
from a huge walrus tusk, and in the other the American Flag at whose dip
would begin once more the struggle for the supremacy of the trail. A
supremacy which is not merely the winning of the purse and cup, but is
the conquering of the obstacles and terrors that beset the trackless
wastes--a defiance of the elements, a triumph of human nature over
nature.

There was the sound of many voices; small boys, scarcely out of
pinafores, discussed with a surprising amount of knowledge the merits of
the individual dogs and the capabilities of their drivers; little girls
donned ribbons with a sportsman-like disregard of their "becomingness"
to show a preference which might be based either on a personal fondness
for a driver or owner, or a loving interest in some particular dog.
While men and women, who on the Outside would be regarded as far beyond
an age when such an event would have an intense interest for them, here
manifest an allegiance so loyal that at times it threatens to disrupt
friendships, if not families.

The babble increased in volume, for the first team had drawn up between
the stands to wait for the final moment, and Charles Johnson stood
ready, with his noted Siberians, to begin the contest. They made a
charming appearance, and their admirers were many and enthusiastic.

"Ten seconds," was called; unconsciously all voices were hushed. "Five
seconds!" The silence was broken only by the restless moving of the
people and the barking of the excited dogs.

Then t