Phil took the lead, as usual, and when they reached the mouth of the
Tananah, which, on account of its broad expanse, there was no chance of
mistaking, he turned into it without hesitation, and in a few minutes
they had taken their last view of the Yukon for many a long day.

At its mouth the Tananah is nearly three miles broad, or as wide as the
Yukon itself, and is filled with islands, on which are stranded
quantities of uprooted trees of greater size than any seen on the Yukon
above that point.

The bitterness of the cold continued unabated, and the sledge party had
hardly lost sight of the Yukon ere the young leader heard himself hailed
from the rear, and paused to see what was wanted.

"I say, Cap'n Phil," began Jalap Coombs, with chattering teeth, "is it
your orders or desire that your men should freeze to death?"

"Certainly not," laughed the lad.

"Then, sir, I has the honor to report that this member of the crew is
already froze solid half-way up, with ice making fast through the
remainder of his system."

"That is entirely contrary to orders," replied Phil, sternly, "and must
be stopped at once. So, sir, put your helm to port, and run for yonder
timber."

Half an hour later poor Jalap was being outwardly thawed by a roaring
fire of great logs, and inwardly by cupful after cupful of scalding tea,
which moved him to remark that, according to his friend Kite Roberson,
tea and coffee were the next best things to observations of the sun for
determining latitude.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHRISTMAS ON THE TANANAH.

"Look here," said Phil, referring to the mate's last surprising
statement, "wasn't your friend Mr. Robinson in the habit of drawing the
long bow?"

"No," replied Jalap Coombs, in surprise at the question; "he couldn't
abide 'em."

"Couldn't abide what?"

"Bows, nor yet arrers, since when he were a kid some boys put up a game
on him that they called William Tell, which allers did seem to me the
foolishest game, seeing that his name warn't William, but Kite, and he
warn't expected to tell anything, only just to stand with a pumpkin on
his head for them to shoot their bow-arrers at. Waal, the very fust one
missed the pumpkin and plunked poor Kite in the stummick, after which he
didn't have no use for a long bow nor a short bow, nor yet a bow of any
kind."

"I don't blame him," laughed Serge. "But we would very much like to know
how he determined latitude by tea and coffee."

"Easy enough," was