orn-out
condition when discovered, had not recognised himself, and the fancy
occurred to him that he would at first try to avoid recognition. To
this end he pulled his hood a little more over his eyes, deepened the
colour of his face by rubbing it with a little lamp-black and oil, and
resolved to lower his voice a note or two when the time for speaking
should arrive. That time was not long of coming; probably the
increasing warmth of the hut, or the smell of the seal-steak in the
nostrils of the half-starved man, may have had something to do with it,
but the meal was hardly ready when the Indian yawned, stretched himself,
sat up and gazed solemnly around.

"You are feeling better?" said Cheenbuk in his deepened tone, and in
broken Dogrib tongue.

The Indian fixed a steady gaze on him for nearly a minute before
replying.

"Yes," he said, in a dreamy tone, "I'm better. If the Eskimo had not
been sent to me I had now been with my ancestors."

"No one sent me to you," returned Cheenbuk; "I found you lying on the
snow."

"The Great Manitou sent you," said the Indian gravely.

It was this touch of seriousness which had originally drawn those two
men together, but the Eskimo remembered that he was acting a part at the
moment, and that any expression of sympathy might betray him. He
therefore made no rejoinder, but, placing the seal-steak on a flat
stone, bade the hungry man eat.

Nazinred required no pressing; he began at once, and was ready for more
almost before more was ready for him. By persevering industry, however,
Cheenbuk kept his guest supplied, and when appetite began to fail he
found time to attend to his own wants and keep the other company.

Silence reigned at first. When the Indian had finished eating he
accepted a draught of warm water, and then had recourse to his fire-bag
and pipe. Cheenbuk expected this, and smiled inwardly, though his
outward visage would have done credit to an owl.

At last he looked up and asked the Indian how he came to be travelling
thus alone and so far from his native land.

Nazinred puffed a voluminous cloud from his lips and two streaming
cloudlets from his nose ere he replied.

"When my son," he said, "was on the banks of the Greygoose River his
voice was not so deep!"

Cheenbuk burst into a laugh and threw back his hood.

"You know me, then, you man-of-the-woods," said he, holding out his hand
in the white trader fashion which the other had taught him.

"W