the clear sunlight.

South of Fort Yukon Angela and Jim were threading their way through a
pine-forest. Both carried packs on their backs, for the sled had been
discarded but a few days before, having served them faithfully for a
hundred-odd miles.

Jim found a small clearing and slung the huge pack from his shoulders.
Angela discarded her smaller pack and came to help him rig up the tent.

"Better than the winter, eh?" he queried, as an inquisitive bird came and
hopped around them.

"In many ways, but the winter's wonderful enough when one has grown
acclimatized. I shall never forget those mountains and the glory of the
sunset.... Are we far from Dawson?"

"Two hundred miles or so."

"And will the food last out?"

That was the crucial question. Until the river traffic began the purchase
of food was almost an impossibility. She saw Jim's face tighten, as it had
tightened every time she had broached the subject. A week before he had
insisted that the remaining food be equally divided, since they now both
engaged in the search for gold--that eternally elusive mineral that seemed
as far away as ever. The beans and flour and canned meat had been duly
apportioned, and placed in their respective sacks. When they separated for
the day each took his food with him, cooking it in primitive fashion in
the open.

For the last few days Angela had been anxious about Jim. He seemed to have
changed in an extraordinary manner. His cheeks were thinner and his eyes
looked dead. Yet he was merry enough when at nights they forgathered
around the fire and told their respective tales of vain searching.

She was frying some beans over the fire when he rose and pointed back
through the wood.

"I guess I'll jest go along and prospect the lay of the land from the
hill," he said.

"But aren't you going to have something to eat?"

"Nope--not now. I ain't hungry. I'll be back again in no time."

She ate her meal reflectively. It was queer that he should want to go to
the hill, when but recently they had passed over it and had taken their
bearings from the ice-laden river that lay to the east! Despite his
assurance of excellent health she knew something was wrong with him. But
what?

A little later she followed the path he had taken. The thickly grown wood
was alive with spirit of spring. Small animals scampered underfoot, and
overhead a bird breathed forth its soul in incomparable song. She stopped
for a minute to listen to the lat