the boys, and flirting harmlessly with the girls, one of whom, in
particular, was not unattractive. She was perhaps three-quarters Aleut,
the other quarter being plain coquette, and, having been educated at the
town of Kodiak, she knew the ways and the wiles of the white man.

Cantwell approached her, and she met his extravagant advances more than
half-way. They were getting along nicely together when Grant, in a
spirit of fun, entered the game and won her fickle smiles for himself.
He joked his partner unmercifully, and Johnny accepted defeat
gracefully, never giving the matter a second thought.

When the hunters returned, dogs were bought, a guide was hired, and, a
week after landing, the friends were camped at timber-line awaiting a
favorable moment for their dash across the range. Above them white
hillsides rose in irregular leaps to the gash in the saw-toothed barrier
which formed the pass; below them a short valley led down to Katmai and
the sea. The day was bright, the air clear, nevertheless after the guide
had stared up at the peaks for a time he shook his head, then re-entered
the tent and lay down. The mountains were "smoking"; from their tops
streamed a gossamer veil which the travelers knew to be drifting
snow-clouds carried by the wind. It meant delay, but they were patient.

They were up and going on the following morning, however, with the
Indian in the lead. There was no trail; the hills were steep; in places
they were forced to unload the sled and hoist their outfit by means of
ropes, and as they mounted higher the snow deepened. It lay like loose
sand, only lighter; it shoved ahead of the sled in a feathery mass; the
dogs wallowed in it and were unable to pull, hence the greater part of
the work devolved upon the men. Once above the foot-hills and into the
range proper, the going became more level, but the snow remained
knee-deep.

The Indian broke trail stolidly; the partners strained at the sled,
which hung back like a leaden thing. By afternoon the dogs had become
disheartened and refused to heed the whip. There was neither fuel nor
running water, and therefore the party did not pause for luncheon. The
men were sweating profusely from their exertions and had long since
become parched with thirst, but the dry snow was like chalk and scoured
their throats.

Cantwell was the first to show the effects of his unusual exertions, for
not only had he assumed a lion's share of the work, but the last fe