he colour of rusty char, and his grub sacks were next to empty.

Over a small fire title contents of a pan and a pot were brewing when
he returned with Miki at his heels, and close to the heat was a
battered and mended reflector in which a bannock of flour and water was
beginning to brown. In one of the pots was coffee, in the other a
boiling fish.

Miki sat down on his angular haunches so that the odour of the fish
filled his nostrils. This, he had discovered, was the next thing to
eating. His eyes, as they followed Challoner's final preparatory
movements, were as bright as garnets, and every third or fourth breath
he licked his chops, and swallowed hungrily. That, in fact, was why
Miki had got his name. He was always hungry, and apparently always
empty, no matter how much he ate. Therefore his name, Miki, "The drum."

It was not until they had eaten the fish and the bannock, and Challoner
had lighted his pipe, that he spoke what was in his mind.

"To-morrow I'm going after that bear," he said.

Miki, curled up near the dying embers, gave his tail a club-like thump
in evidence of the fact that he was listening.

"I'm going to pair you up with the cub, and tickle the Girl to death."

Miki thumped his tail harder than before.

"Fine," he seemed to say.

"Just think of it," said Challoner, looking over Miki's head a thousand
miles away, "Fourteen months--and at last we're going home. I'm going
to train you and the cub for that sister of mine. Eh, won't you like
that? You don't know what she's like, you homely little devil, or you
wouldn't sit there staring at me like a totem-pole pup! And it isn't in
your stupid head to imagine how pretty she is. You saw that sunset
to-night? Well, she's prettier than THAT if she is my sister. Got
anything to add to that, Miki? If not, let's say our prayers and go to
bed!"

Challoner rose and stretched himself. His muscles cracked. He felt life
surging like a giant within him.

And Miki, thumping his tail until this moment, rose on his overgrown
legs and followed his master into their shelter.

It was in the gray light of the early summer dawn when Challoner came
forth again, and rekindled the fire. Miki followed a few moments later,
and his master fastened the end of a worn tent-rope around his neck and
tied the rope to a sapling. Another rope of similar length Challoner
tied to the corners of a grub sack so that it could be carried over his
shoulder like a game bag. With t