re broken as they merged
themselves into the range Steve believed supported the mysterious Spire
of Unaga.

The point of deepest interest and wonder was that which lay in the heart
of the valley less than three miles further on. Numberless small bluffs
chequered the open and suggested the parentage of one which stood out
amongst them, wide, and dark, and lofty. Here there was a long wavering
line of low bush reaching out down the heart of the valley indicating
the course of a river. It was on this river bank, snuggled against the
fringe of the great pine bluff that a cluster of dome-roofed habitations
were plainly visible.

But the wonder of all stood a short distance away to the right where the
woods came down towards the river. It was a wide group of buildings of
lateral logs, with log roofs, and surrounded by a stockade of similar
material. The touch of the white man's hand was unmistakable. No race of
northern Indians or Eskimo could have built such a place.

They sped on over the snow unconscious of the increase of their speed.
And as they approached each man realized the same thought. There was no
sign of life anywhere. There was not even a prowling dog to be seen
searching amongst the refuse of the encampment.

As they drew nearer they failed to discover any addition to the solitary
track they were following. It was curious. It was almost ominous. But
its significance was lost in the thought that here at least was shelter
for themselves against the real winter yet to come.

They reached the banks of the river. It was a good-sized creek frozen
solid, and already deep buried under snow. Without a pause they crossed
to the other side and broke their way through the scrubby snow-laden
bush on the opposite bank.

"Hello!"

The two men came to an abrupt halt. They were confronting a small child
of perhaps five or six years. He was clad in furs from head to foot. A
pretty, robust, white-skinned child, wide-eyed, and smiling his frankly
cordial greeting.

CHAPTER V

MARCEL BRAND

For a moment astonishment robbed Steve of speech. Julyman was, perhaps,
less affected. He stood beside his boss grinning down at the apparition
till his eyes were almost entirely hidden by their closing lids, and his
copper skin was wrinkled into a maze of creases.

Steve's ultimate effort was a responsive, "Hello!"

It seemed to meet with the child's approval, for he came trustfully
towards the strangers.

"Mummy's sic