t and juicy, with a flavor of musk that was disagreeable.

"Now, Rea, for the calves," exclaimed Jones, "And then we're homeward
bound."

"I hate to tell this redskin," replied Rea. "He'll be like the others.
But it ain't likely he'd desert us here. He's far from his base, with
nothin' but thet old musket." Rea then commanded the attention of the
brave, and began to mangle the Great Slave and Yellow Knife languages.
Of this mixture Jones knew but few words. "Ageter nechila," which Rea
kept repeating, he knew, however, meant "musk-oxen little."

The guide stared, suddenly appeared to get Rea's meaning, then
vigorously shook his head and gazed at Jones in fear and horror.
Following this came an action as singular as inexplicable. Slowly
rising, he faced the north, lifted his hand, and remained statuesque in
his immobility. Then he began deliberately packing his blankets and
traps on his sled, which had not been unhitched from the train of dogs.

"Jackoway ditchen hula," he said, and pointed south.

"Jackoway ditchen hula," echoed Rea. "The damned Indian says 'wife
sticks none.' He's goin' to quit us. What do you think of thet? His
wife's out of wood. Jackoway out of wood, an' here we are two days from
the Arctic Ocean. Jones, the damned heathen don't go back!"

The trapper coolly cocked his rifle. The savage, who plainly saw and
understood the action, never flinched. He turned his breast to Rea, and
there was nothing in his demeanor to suggest his relation to a craven
tribe.

"Good heavens, Rea, don't kill him!" exclaimed Jones, knocking up the
leveled rifle.

"Why not, I'd like to know?" demanded Rea, as if he were considering
the fate of a threatening beast. "I reckon it'd be a bad thing for us
to let him go."

"Let him go," said Jones. "We are here on the ground. We have dogs and
meat. We'll get our calves and reach the lake as soon as he does, and
we might get there before."

"Mebbe we will," growled Rea.

No vacillation attended the Indian's mood. From friendly guide, he had
suddenly been transformed into a dark, sullen savage. He refused the
musk-ox meat offered by Jones, and he pointed south and looked at the
white hunters as if he asked them to go with him. Both men shook their
heads in answer. The savage struck his breast a sounding blow and with
his index finger pointed at the white of the north, he shouted
dramatically: "Naza! Naza! Naza!"

He then leaped upon his sled, lashed his dogs into a run