orizon, and
at quarter past twelve the earth threw its shadow again over the land.

The men and dogs raced on. Daylight and Kama were both savages so far
as their stomachs were concerned. They could eat irregularly in time
and quantity, gorging hugely on occasion, and on occasion going long
stretches without eating at all. As for the dogs, they ate but once a
day, and then rarely did they receive more than a pound each of dried
fish. They were ravenously hungry and at the same time splendidly in
condition. Like the wolves, their forebears, their nutritive processes
were rigidly economical and perfect. There was no waste. The last
least particle of what they consumed was transformed into energy.

And Kama and Daylight were like them. Descended themselves from the
generations that had endured, they, too, endured. Theirs was the
simple, elemental economy. A little food equipped them with prodigious
energy. Nothing was lost. A man of soft civilization, sitting at a
desk, would have grown lean and woe-begone on the fare that kept Kama
and Daylight at the top-notch of physical efficiency. They knew, as
the man at the desk never knows, what it is to be normally hungry all
the time, so that they could eat any time. Their appetites were always
with them and on edge, so that they bit voraciously into whatever
offered and with an entire innocence of indigestion.

By three in the afternoon the long twilight faded into night. The stars
came out, very near and sharp and bright, and by their light dogs and
men still kept the trail. They were indefatigable. And this was no
record run of a single day, but the first day of sixty such days.
Though Daylight had passed a night without sleep, a night of dancing
and carouse, it seemed to have left no effect. For this there were two
explanations first, his remarkable vitality; and next, the fact that
such nights were rare in his experience. Again enters the man at the
desk, whose physical efficiency would be more hurt by a cup of coffee
at bedtime than could Daylight's by a whole night long of strong drink
and excitement.

Daylight travelled without a watch, feeling the passage of time and
largely estimating it by subconscious processes. By what he considered
must be six o'clock, he began looking for a camping-place. The trail,
at a bend, plunged out across the river. Not having found a likely
spot, they held on for the opposite bank a mile away. But midway they
encoun