as far as Pelly," Daylight grinned.

Kama shook his head doubtfully, and rolled over on his side, turning
his back in token of farewell.

Daylight won across Chilcoot that same day, dropping down five hundred
feet in the darkness and the flurrying snow to Crater Lake, where he
camped. It was a 'cold' camp, far above the timber-line, and he had
not burdened his sled with firewood. That night three feet of snow
covered them, and in the black morning, when they dug themselves out,
the Indian tried to desert. He had had enough of traveling with what
he considered a madman. But Daylight persuaded him in grim ways to
stay by the outfit, and they pulled on across Deep Lake and Long Lake
and dropped down to the level-going of Lake Linderman. It was the same
killing pace going in as coming out, and the Indian did not stand it as
well as Kama. He, too, never complained. Nor did he try again to
desert. He toiled on and did his best, while he renewed his resolve to
steer clear of Daylight in the future. The days slipped into days,
nights and twilight's alternating, cold snaps gave way to snow-falls,
and cold snaps came on again, and all the while, through the long
hours, the miles piled up behind them.

But on the Fifty Mile accident befell them. Crossing an ice-bridge,
the dogs broke through and were swept under the down-stream ice. The
traces that connected the team with the wheel-dog parted, and the team
was never seen again. Only the one wheel-dog remained, and Daylight
harnessed the Indian and himself to the sled. But a man cannot take
the place of a dog at such work, and the two men were attempting to do
the work of five dogs. At the end of the first hour, Daylight
lightened up. Dog-food, extra gear, and the spare ax were thrown away.
Under the extraordinary exertion the dog snapped a tendon the following
day, and was hopelessly disabled. Daylight shot it, and abandoned the
sled. On his back he took one hundred and sixty pounds of mail and
grub, and on the Indian's put one hundred and twenty-five pounds. The
stripping of gear was remorseless. The Indian was appalled when he saw
every pound of worthless mail matter retained, while beans, cups,
pails, plates, and extra clothing were thrown by the board. One robe
each was kept, one ax, one tin pail, and a scant supply of bacon and
flour. Bacon could be eaten raw on a pinch, and flour, stirred in hot
water, could keep men going. Even the rifle and the score