the highest tides of the fall. Though uninjured, it would
have required some work to get the little craft off again; so there,
evidently, she had remained.

"But Swimming Wolf, why didn't the White Chief get another boat and
come with our provisions? Why didn't the Indians come for us? Didn't
anyone care whether we starved or not?"

The Wolf looked at Ellen with that stolid, blank expression an Indian
assumes when he does not wish to be questioned.

"Me dun know. Me dun know." He shook his head. "Indian have no boat.
Kilbuck, he Big Chief. He all time say: 'Mind you business or Indian
get no grub. Tomorrow I go.' He all time say 'Tomorrow.'"

Tomorrow! From the lips of Kayak Bill who knew his Alaska, Ellen and
Jean knew what tragedies lie behind that word. From waiting on wind
and tide and the next steamer to go someplace, from waiting on summer
or winter to do something, from waiting on an indifferent government to
act on something, people of the North have found that Alaska has become
essentially a Land of Tomorrow! A month in Alaska becomes as a day in
the States.

Humanity demanded that the two women do their best for the man who had
brought about their present perilous situation, though he had forfeited
all claim to womanly sympathy. Ellen could not bring herself to go
near the White Chief after he was placed in Kayak's bunk, but she
directed Swimming Wolf, who nursed and fed him. At first Kilbuck lay
in a stupor, but suddenly, at the end of twenty-four hours, he came out
of his daze. Jean, going into his room, encountered his narrow grey
eyes looking up at her with their normal expression.

He recovered quickly from the blow on the head, and on a diet of bread
and broth rapidly regained his strength. The women avoided him
whenever possible, but Loll, on whom once more they were dependent for
sea-parrots, found time to sit beside him, asking about his friends at
Katleean, and in turn telling the trader all his small affairs of the
day. As time went by he must have given the man a fair idea of the
struggle for existence during the winter on Kon Klayu.

Kilbuck, for the most part, was silent. He made no effort to explain
his failure to keep his promises. His strange, grey eyes, whenever it
was possible, followed the movements of Ellen and Jean. Sometimes the
women could hear him, indistinctly, questioning Lollie.

The fourth day Swimming Wolf assisted him to the porch where he sat
lookin