On one side of this stupendous barrier our sledge party from the Yukon
was now halted. On the other side lay the frontier of civilization,
safety, and their journey's end. Between the two points rose the
mountains, calmly contemptuous of human efforts to penetrate their
secrets of avalanche and glacier, icy precipice and snow-filled gorge,
fierce blizzard and ice-laden whirlwind, desolation and death. It is no
wonder that, face to face with such things, the little group, gathered
about the last camp-fire they might see for days or perhaps forever,
should be unusually quiet and thoughtful.

Still clad in their well-worn garments of fur they were engaged in
characteristic occupations. Phil, looking anxious and careworn, was
standing close to the fire, warming and cleaning his rifle. Serge was
making a stew of the last of their moose meat, which would afterwards be
frozen and taken with them into untimbered regions where camp-fires
would be unknown. Jalap Coombs was thoughtfully mending a broken
snow-shoe, and at the same time finding his task sadly interrupted by
Nel-te, who, nestled between his knees, was trying to attract the
sailorman's undivided attention.

The little chap, with his great sorrow forgotten, was now the life and
pet of the party. So firmly was his place established among them that
they wondered how they had ever borne the loneliness of a camp without
his cheery presence, and could hardly realize that he had only recently
come into their lives. Now, too, half the anxiety with which they
regarded the perilous way before them was on his account.

"I'm worrying most about the dogs," said Phil, continuing a conversation
begun some time before, "and I am afraid some of them will give out
before we reach the summit."

"Yes," agreed Serge; "To-day's pull up from the lake has told terribly
on them, and Amook's feet have been badly cut by the crust ever since he
ate his boots."

"Poor old dog!" said Phil. "It was awfully careless of me to forget and
leave them on him all night. I don't wonder a bit at his eating them,
though, considering the short rations he's been fed on lately."

The dogs were indeed having a hard time. Worn by months of
sledge-pulling over weary leagues of snow and ice, their trials only
increased as the tedious journey progressed. The days were now so long
that each offered a full twelve hours of sunlight, while the snow was so
softened by the growing warmth that in the middle of the