I swear its a shame!"

"Yes, he ought to," from another of the group, "but he wont."

"When I was a kid I was told that a bird what can sing and wont sing
should be made to sing, and that fits Buster now."

"Oh, well, Alaska's a big place, and there's plenty of natives. It don't
matter if a few does die off, There'll be enough left, I reckon,"
carelessly remarked a man who had not spoken.

"You go 'way back and set down, Tenderfoot; you've allers got a pimple
on yer nose! Don't you s'pose that Eskimos feel or sense things? I do. I
think that such people as this, 'Stella now, orter be looked
after,--'specially with that boy of her'n, for he's a likely kid, and
might make somethin'. Wonder why the big guns at Washington don't try a
hand at helpin'? Seems to me they could if they'd a mind." The man ended
his speech in a lower tone of soliloquy.

"Easy to tell others what ter do, aint it, boss?" queried one.

"I s'pose that's so; but I was thinkin' of my own woman and kids at
home, and how I'd feel to see 'em starving!" Then as though regretting
the turn the conversation had taken, he reached for his furs, and while
pulling his parkie over his head preparatory to leaving, said more
briskly: "I'm goin' to bed, boys; you better do the same; it's near
mornin'," and with that he left the saloon.

Presently the little boy stirred and whimpered. Instantly the mother
roused herself, though with some effort, and the crackers were brought
to light. The child was ravenous, and ate greedily. When he had finished
the Eskimo by the fire came toward them, saying a few words softly in
his own tongue. With that the boy put out his arms and the man took him,
going back to his place by the fire.

The woman had changed her position, and was soon again asleep.

When daylight came, the bartender began moving about. He thought the
natives had better get into the fresh air, as he wanted to clean the
place, he said.

With that the two Eskimos plodded out through the snowdrifts; the man
carrying the child in his arms.

The blizzard had died away, and the air was still and cold. When they
reached the woman's door they entered, the man first pushing away the
snow with his feet, the child still cuddling in his arms.

Beside the camp stove lay piled a heap of small driftwood sticks and a
sack of coal. Upon the table a few eatables had been deposited,
evidently some hours before. A fire was soon crackling, and a meal was
cooking. To the w