or you. Now, Buff, they'll gorge every
hair, hide an' hoof of their share in less than a week. Thet's the last
we do for the damned cannibals. Didn't you see them eatin' of the raw
innards?--faugh! I'm calculatin' we'll see no more reindeer. It's late
for the migration. The big herd has driven southward. But we're lucky,
thanks to your prairie trainin'. Come on now with the sleds, or we'll
have a pack of wolves to fight."

By loading three reindeer on each sled, the hunters were not long in
transporting them to the cabin. "Buff, there ain't much doubt about
them keepin' nice and cool," said Rea. "They'll freeze, an' we can skin
them when we want."

That night the starved wolf dogs gorged themselves till they could not
rise from the snow. Likewise the Yellow Knives feasted. How long the
ten reindeer might have served the wasteful tribe, Rea and Jones never
found out. The next day two Indians arrived with dog-trains, and their
advent was hailed with another feast, and a pow-wow that lasted into
the night.

"Guess we're goin' to get rid of our blasted hungry neighbors," said
Rea, coming in next morning with the water pail, "An' I'll be durned,
Buff, if I don't believe them crazy heathen have been told about you.
Them Indians was messengers. Grab your gun, an' let's walk over and
see."

The Yellow Knives were breaking camp, and the hunters were at once
conscious of the difference in their bearing. Rea addressed several
braves, but got no reply. He laid his broad hand on the old wrinkled
chief, who repulsed him, and turned his back. With a growl, the trapper
spun the Indian round, and spoke as many words of the language as he
knew. He got a cold response, which ended in the ragged old chief
starting up, stretching a long, dark arm northward, and with eyes fixed
in fanatical subjection, shouting: "Naza! Naza! Naza!"

"Heathen!" Rea shook his gun in the faces of the messengers. "It'll go
bad with you to come Nazain' any longer on our trail. Come, Buff, clear
out before I get mad."

When they were once more in the cabin, Rea told Jones that the
messengers had been sent to warn the Yellow Knives not to aid the white
hunters in any way. That night the dogs were kept inside, and the men
took turns in watching. Morning showed a broad trail southward. And
with the going of the Yellow Knives the mercury dropped to fifty, and
the long, twilight winter night fell.

So with this agreeable riddance and plenty of meat and fuel to