feel a complete sense
of safety. Sleeping within a few feet of him she had never, for a moment,
felt the slightest possibility of molestation or intrusion on his part. It
had been easy to take this all for granted--because he was a wild man and
she was a cultured woman. She had come to see that "wild men" did not show
such a refinement of consideration, even though they might conceivably
acknowledge their social inferiority. She knew of no other man with whom
she could have entrusted herself as she did with this one. Moreover, he
was her husband....

She was glad she was making things a little more pleasant for him. She saw
that his natural gayety and _joie de vivre_, long subdued, were again
welling up within him. But yesterday she had heard him singing, coming
back from his day's unfruitful task. She knew herself to be the cause of
that song. It was rather pleasant to reflect upon.

Now she must tell him of the loss of the dog-team, brought about by her
impetuosity and disregard for his position as leader of the expedition.

She came upon the cabin and entered it, to find him still away. She took
off her snow-covered garments with great difficulty, for her injured arm
hurt her at the least movement. She was putting the kettle on the stove
when he entered.

"Gee! but I thought we'd done with snow," he ejaculated. "But I guess this
is the last drop."

He shook off his muklucks and flung the bearskin parkha into a corner.
With his usual quick introspection he noticed that something was amiss.

"Anythin' wrong?" he queried.

He touched her on the injured arm and she winced with pain.

"Hello, you ain't hurt your arm?"

She nodded.

"Jim, I've done an awful thing. I've lost the dog-team."

She saw him start, and realized the full extent of the loss. To her
surprise his furrowed brows relaxed and he smiled whimsically.

"Things do sure happen at the wrong time. But how did you manage that?"

She told him in low, self-reproachful tones, and winced again as a
movement of the injured arm brought agony.

"Say, that's bad."

"Yes. I know. Without the dogs----"

"Oh, darn the dogs! I meant your arm. It's hurting you a heap. Ain't you
had a look at it?"

"Not yet. It's rather a job getting my dress undone."

He promptly walked across the room, and in a few seconds came back with
two huge red handkerchiefs.

"Sit you down," he ordered. "We'll start on this right now. How do you
manage this arrangement?"