ded variety to the diet. They offered hope,
too, that the period of famine was nearing its end.

Ed Matheson's report of the condition of the Indians appearing at the
Eskimo Bay post gave the men food for thought. When they gathered
again at the river tilt two weeks later, the chief subject of
conversation was Shad's continued absence, and many speculations were
put forth as to the probable movements of Shad and their Indian
friends. Whether or not they were likely to find caribou, where they
would go and what they would be likely to do should they fail, were
questions which they discussed at length. And they did not conceal
from one another the fact that they were deeply concerned for Shad's
safety.

When the trappers gathered again at the rendezvous on Friday, the
sixth of March, they fully expected that Shad would be there to greet
them, but they were disappointed. His failure to appear at this late
date excited alarm, but no course of action that would be in the least
likely to lead to results presented itself.

They agreed that the Indians had beyond doubt left a cache at the
Great Lake, for Sishetakushin had stated to Bob that he would do so;
and upon returning to that point it was believed Shad would have
sufficient food to proceed to the river tilt. Any search beyond the
Great Lake would be fruitless, for none could know in what direction
to search.

Still there was no Shad on Friday, the twentieth of March. They ate
their supper and resumed their speculations.

"I'm thinkin', now, t' make a cruise t' th' place where th' Injuns was
camped when I left un," declared Bob. "If they ain't there, I'll come
back, unless I sees signs of un. And, anyway, 'twill make me feel
better."

"An' I'll go along," said Ed. "We'll be startin' in th' mornin' early,
an' we may's well get our stuff out t'-night, ready t' pack."

They had blown out the candle and were lying in their bunks,
discussing still Shad's long absence, when the door of the tilt was
pushed quietly open and the figure of a man appeared in the moonlight
at the entrance.

They sprang from their bunks, and Ed Matheson, striking a match,
applied it to a candle. As the light flared up the man entered, and
Mookoomahn stood before them.

XXIV

THE MESSENGER

They looked at the Indian in awed and speechless horror. His tale of
suffering was told before he spoke. He had come from a land of
Tragedy. He had been stalking side by side with Death.

This