a-followin' an' livin' off the stragglers an' the
leavin's. We leave the leavin's. The herd's movin' to the east, an'
we'll be followin' 'em any day now. We eat our dogs, an' what we don't
eat we smoke 'n cure for the spring before the salmon-run gets its sting
in. Say, what Whiskers don't know about salmon an' caribou nobody knows,
take it from me."

"Here comes Whiskers lookin' like he's goin' somewheres," Shorty
whispered, reaching over and wiping greasy hands on the coat of one of
the sled-dogs.

It was morning, and the bachelors were squatting over a breakfast of
caribou-meat, which they ate as they broiled. Smoke glanced up and saw
a small and slender man, skin-clad like any savage, but unmistakably
white, striding in advance of a sled team and a following of a dozen
Indians. Smoke cracked a hot bone, and while he sucked out the steaming
marrow gazed at his approaching host. Bushy whiskers and yellowish gray
hair, stained by camp smoke, concealed most of the face, but failed
wholly to hide the gaunt, almost cadaverous, cheeks. It was a healthy
leanness, Smoke decided, as he noted the wide flare of the nostrils and
the breadth and depth of chest that gave spaciousness to the guaranty of
oxygen and life.

"How do you do," the man said, slipping a mitten and holding out his
bare hand. "My name is Snass," he added, as they shook hands.

"Mine's Bellew," Smoke returned, feeling peculiarly disconcerted as he
gazed into the keen-searching black eyes.

"Getting plenty to eat, I see."

Smoke nodded and resumed his marrow-bone, the purr of Scottish speech
strangely pleasant in his ears.

"Rough rations. But we don't starve often. And it's more natural than
the hand-reared meat of the cities."

"I see you don't like cities," Smoke laughed, in order to be saying
something; and was immediately startled by the transformation Snass
underwent.

Quite like a sensitive plant, the man's entire form seemed to wilt and
quiver. Then the recoil, tense and savage, concentered in the eyes, in
which appeared a hatred that screamed of immeasurable pain. He turned
abruptly away, and, recollecting himself, remarked casually over his
shoulder:

"I'll see you later, Mr. Bellew. The caribou are moving east, and I'm
going ahead to pick out a location. You'll all come on to-morrow."

"Some Whiskers, that, eh?" Shorty muttered, as Snass pulled on at the
head of his outfit.

Again Shorty wiped his hands on the wolf-dog, which seeme