ill took the map in his hands and held it for a long moment
before his near-sighted eyes.

"By . . . hell!" The words came slowly in a sort of whispered shout.

Then as if unable to declare himself in the presence of the women,
Kayak, with a suspicion of haste in his going, sauntered off to the far
side of a sand-dune, where he sat down and in the manner of the true
Alaskan, drew heavily on his stock of profanity to express his opinion
of all Swedes, Silvertip in particular, the country, and the blind
Providence that could create an island without a harbor.

The situation forced upon the party was a serious one. It involved
transferring the entire outfit three miles to the cabin--if there was
one--over the soft beach sand that made their only means of
transportation, a wheelbarrow, utterly useless. There were but a few
days during the year when a small boat, such as the whale-boat, could
safely circumnavigate the shoals at the north end and the reef-sown
waters about the Island. Since this means could not be relied upon,
the two men were confronted with the necessity of packing on their
backs to the cabin every pound of provisions; and with the equinoctial
storms close at hand, every day counted.

Boreland bit his lip in the effort to control the anger that burned
within him as he realized that a month or six weeks must be spent in
transferring the provisions. But there was no time to lose in cursing
the absent Silvertip; immediate action counted and he was never one to
let misfortune weigh long upon him.

Noting the worried look on Ellen's face he crossed over to where she
sat upon the opened box of books, and put his arms about her.

"Never mind, little fellow. We'll come out all right. The darkest
hour always comes before the dawn," he said, laying his rough cheek
against her hair.

Despite her anxiety, a smile stirred the corner of Ellen's mouth as she
heard this familiar bit of sentimental philosophy. During the ten
years of her married life Shane had always been ready with these words,
no matter what crushing calamity came upon them. She patted his hand
as she would have patted that of a child.

Loll, with his fingers under Kobuk's collar, had been looking on, his
little face unconsciously assuming the seriousness of those about him.
He turned now to greet Kayak Bill, who, apparently calmed and
refreshed, was wading out of the rice-grass. The old man's sombrero
was cocked at a militant angle; his