The Detroit times., 1912-08-05
CHAPTER NI.
(contlnued.)

NO We won't fight, but Will wrap
up IN the same blankets, and die, with
Woonga, there, keeping our backs
warm until the last Ell, Woonga,
will you do that?"
He turned cheerily 10 the dog, and
Woonga rose slowly and with unmis-
taxable stiffness OF limb. and was fast
ened In the sledge traces
They went ON through the desolate
gloom of afternoon, which In late win
ter Is, above the siXtieth, all but night.
Ahead OF them there seemed TO rise
oillow upon billow OF snow-mountains.
which dwarfed themselves into drifted
dunes when they approached, and the
heaven above them. and the horizon
Oh all sides OF them were shut out
from their vision by white mist
Which was intangible and without sub
stance and yet which rose like a wall
before their eyes. 1t was one chaos OF
white mingling with another chaos of
White, chaos OF white earth smoth-
cred and torn BY the Arctic wind un-
DER chaos OF white sky: and through
il all, saplings that one might have
twisted and broken over his knee were
magnitied into giants at distance OF
half hundred PAGES, and men and
dog looked like huge specters moving
with bowed heads through a world
that was no longer world OF life. but
OF dead and silent things. And mp out
OF this after a time, rose DeBars
voice, chanting in tones filled with the
savagery OF the north, wild song
that was half breed and half French,
which the forest men sing in their
Joy when coming very near TO home
They went on, hour after hour. until
day gloom thickened into night, and
night drnted upward to give place to
gray dawn. Flooding steadily north,
resting now and then, fighting each
mile OF the way to the Red Porcupine
against the singing lashes of the
Arctic wind. And through II all II was
DeBar's voice that rose in encourage
ment 10 the dog limping behind him
and 10 the man limping behind the
aog-now in song, now in the wild
shouting OF the sledge-driver. his face
thin and gaunt in its starved white
ness. but his eyes alive with strange
fire And il was DeBar who lifted his
mittened hands TO the leaden chaos
OF sky when they came 10 the frozen
streak that was the Red Porcupine,
and said. in voice through which
there ran a strange thrill OF some
ching deep and mighty God In Heav-
en- be praised, this is the end
He started into a trot now, and the
dog trotted behind him, and behind
the dog trotted Philip, wondering. as
he had wondered a dozen times before
that night, if DeBar were going mad
Five hundred yards down the stream
DeBar stopped in his tracks, stared
for a moment into the breaking gloom
OF the shore, and turned TO Philip. He
spoke in voice low and trembling as
II overcome for the moment by some
strong emotion.
"See-see there" he whispered
does il mean? I've come oyer seventy
miles OF barren. through night an
storm. an I've hit Pierre Thoreaus
cabin as fair as shot! oh, man, man,
{ couldn't do II once in ten thousand
times" He gripped Philips arm, and
his voice rose in excited triumph. II
tell 'ee. II means that-that God-'r
something-must be with me-"
with us" said Philip, staring hard
With me-" replied Debar so fierce
" that the other started involuntarily.
Its a miracle, an omen, and II means
that I'm going to win" His fingers
gripped deeper. and he said more
gently, Phil, I've grown TO like you,
end il you believe in God as we be-
lieve in Him up here-if you believe
He tells things in the stars, the winds
end things like this, if you're afraid OF
death--take some grub and go back!
mean 1t, Phil, for II you stay, an
fight there is going to be but one end
will kill you"