The Son of the Wolf
Man rarely places a proper valuation uponhis womankind, at least not until deprived of them. He has noconception of the subtle atmosphere exhaled by the sex feminine,so long as he bathes in it; but let it be withdrawn, and anever-growing void begins to manifest itself in his existence, andhe becomes hungry, in a vague sort of way, for a something soindefinite that he cannot characterize it. If his comrades haveno more experience than himself, they will shake their headsdubiously and dose him with strong physic. But the hunger willcontinue and become stronger; he will lose interest in the thingsof his everyday life and wax morbid; and one day, when theemptiness has become unbearable, a revelation will dawn upon him.In the Yukon country, when this comes to pass, the man usuallyprovisions a poling boat, if it is summer, and if winter,harnesses his dogs, and heads for the Southland. A few monthslater, supposing him to be possessed of a faith in the country,he returns with a wife to share with him in that faith, andincidentally in his hardships. This but serves to show the innateselfishness of man. It also brings us to the trouble of 'Scruff'Mackenzie, which occurred in the old days, before the country wasstampeded and staked by a tidal- wave of the che-cha-quas, andwhen the Klondike's only claim to notice was its salmonfisheries.'Scruff' Mackenzie bore the earmarks of a frontier birth and afrontier life.His face was stamped with twenty-five years of incessant strugglewith Nature in her wildest moods,--the last two, the wildest andhardest of all, having been spent in groping for the gold whichlies in the shadow of the Arctic Circle. When the yearningsickness came upon him, he was not surprised, for he was apractical man and had seen other men thus stricken. But he showedno sign of his malady, save that he worked harder. All summer hefought mosquitoes and washed the sure-thing bars of the StuartRiver for a double grubstake. Then he floated a raft of houselogsdown the Yukon to Forty Mile, and put together as comfortable acabin as any the camp could boast of. In fact, it showed suchcozy promise that many men elected to be his partner and to comeand live with him. But he crushed their aspirations with roughspeech, peculiar for its strength and brevity, and bought adouble supply of grub from the trading-post.As has been noted, 'Scruff' Mackenzie was a practical man. If hewanted a thing he usually got it, but in doing so, went nofarther out of his way than was necessary. Though a son of toiland hardship, he was averse to a journey of six hundred miles onthe ice, a second of two thousand miles on the ocean, and still athird thousand miles or so to his last stamping-grounds,--all inthe mere quest of a wife. Life was too short. So he rounded uphis dogs, lashed a curious freight to his sled, and faced acrossthe divide whose westward slopes were drained by the head-reachesof the Tanana.He was a sturdy traveler, and his wolf-dogs could work harder andtravel farther on less grub than any other team in the Yukon.Three weeks later he strode into a hunting-camp of the UpperTanana Sticks. They marveled at his temerity; for they had a badname and had been known to kill white men for as trifling a thingas a sharp ax or a broken rifle.But he went among them single-handed, his bearing being adelicious composite of humility, familiarity, sang-froid, andinsolence. It required a deft hand and deep knowledge of thebarbaric mind effectually to handle such diverse weapons; but hewas a past-master in the art, knowing when to conciliate and whento threaten with Jove-like wrath.He first made obeisance to the Chief Thling-Tinneh, presentinghim with a couple of pounds of black tea and tobacco, and therebywinning his most cordial regard. Then he mingled with the men andmaidens, and that night gave a potlach.The snow was beaten down in the form of an oblong, perhaps ahundred feet in length and quarter as many across. Down thecenter a long fire was built, while either side was carpeted withspruce boughs. The lodges were forsaken, and the fivescore or somembers of the tribe gave tongue to their folk-chants in honor oftheir guest.'Scruff' Mackenzie's two years had taught him the not manyhundred words of their vocabulary, and he had likewise conqueredtheir deep gutturals, their Japanese idioms, constructions, andhonorific and agglutinative particles. So he made oration aftertheir manner, satisfying their instinctive poetry-love with crudeflights of eloquence and metaphorical contortions. AfterThling-Tinneh and the Shaman had responded in kind, he madetrifling presents to the menfolk, joined in their singing, andproved an expert in their fifty-two-stick gambling game.And they smoked his tobacco and were pleased. But among theyounger men there was a defiant attitude, a spirit ofbraggadocio, easily understood by the raw insinuations of thetoothless squaws and the giggling of the maidens. They had knownfew white men, 'Sons of the Wolf,' but from those few they hadlearned strange lessons.Nor had 'Scruff' Mackenzie, for all his seeming carelessness,failed to note these phenomena. In truth, rolled in hissleeping-furs, he thought it all over, thought seriously, andemptied many pipes in mapping out a campaign. One maiden onlyhad caught his fancy,--none other than Zarinska, daughter to thechief. In features, form, and poise, answering more nearly to thewhite man's type of beauty, she was almost an anomaly among hertribal sisters. He would possess her, make her his wife, and nameher--ah, he would name her Gertrude! Having thus decided, herolled over on his side and dropped off to sleep, a true son ofhis all-conquering race, a Samson among the Philistines.It was slow work and a stiff game; but 'Scruff' Mackenziemaneuvered cunningly, with an unconcern which served to puzzlethe Sticks. He took great care to impress the men that he was asure shot and a mighty hunter, and the camp rang with hisplaudits when he brought down a moose at six hundred yards. Of anight he visited in Chief Thling- Tinneh's lodge of moose andcariboo skins, talking big and dispensing tobacco with a lavishhand. Nor did he fail to likewise honor the Shaman; for herealized the medicine- man's influence with his people, and wasanxious to make of him an ally. But that worthy was high andmighty, refused to be propitiated, and was unerringly marked downas a prospective enemy.Though no opening presented for an interview with Zarinska,Mackenzie stole many a glance to her, giving fair warning of hisintent. And well she knew, yet coquettishly surrounded herselfwith a ring of women whenever the men were away and he had achance. But he was in no hurry; besides, he knew she could nothelp but think of him, and a few days of such thought would onlybetter his suit.At last, one night, when he deemed the time to be ripe, heabruptly left the chief's smoky dwelling and hastened to aneighboring lodge. As usual, she sat with squaws and maidensabout her, all engaged in sewing moccasins and beadwork. Theylaughed at his entrance, and badinage, which linked Zarinska tohim, ran high. But one after the other they were unceremoniouslybundled into the outer snow, whence they hurried to spread thetale through all the camp.His cause was well pleaded, in her tongue, for she did not knowhis, and at the end of two hours he rose to go.'So Zarinska will come to the White Man's lodge? Good! I go nowto have talk with thy father, for he may not be so minded. And Iwill give him many tokens; but he must not ask too much. If hesay no? Good! Zarinska shall yet come to the White Man's lodge.'He had already lifted the skin flap to depart, when a lowexclamation brought him back to the girl's side. She broughtherself to her knees on the bearskin mat, her face aglow withtrue Eve-light, and shyly unbuckled his heavy belt. He lookeddown, perplexed, suspicious, his ears alert for the slightestsound without.But her next move disarmed his doubt, and he smiled withpleasure. She took from her sewing bag a moosehide sheath, bravewith bright beadwork, fantastically designed. She drew his greathunting-knife, gazed reverently along the keen edge, half temptedto try it with her thumb, and shot it into place in its new home.Then she slipped the sheath along the belt to its customaryresting-place, just above the hip. For all the world, it waslike a scene of olden time,--a lady and her knight.Mackenzie drew her up full height and swept her red lips with hismoustache,the, to her, foreign caress of the Wolf. It was ameeting of the stone age and the steel; but she was none the lessa woman, as her crimson cheeks and the luminous softness of hereyes attested.There was a thrill of excitement in the air as 'Scruff'Mackenzie, a bulky bundle under his arm, threw open the flap ofThling-Tinneh's tent. Children were running about in the open,dragging dry wood to the scene of the potlach, a babble ofwomen's voices was growing in intensity, the young men wereconsulting in sullen groups, while from the Shaman's lodge rosethe eerie sounds of an incantation.The chief was alone with his blear-eyed wife, but a glancesufficed to tell Mackenzie that the news was already told. So heplunged at once into the business, shifting the beaded sheathprominently to the fore as advertisement of the betrothal.'O Thling-Tinneh, mighty chief of the Sticks And the land of theTanana, ruler of the salmon and the bear, the moose and thecariboo! The White Man is before thee with a great purpose. Manymoons has his lodge been empty, and he is lonely. And his hearthas eaten itself in silence, and grown hungry for a woman to sitbeside him in his lodge, to meet him from the hunt with warm fireand good food. He has heard strange things, the patter of babymoccasins and the sound of children's voices. And one night avision came upon him, and he beheld the Raven, who is thy father,the great Raven, who is the father of all the Sticks. And theRaven spake to the lonely White Man, saying: "Bind thou thymoccasins upon thee, and gird thy snow-shoes on, and lash thysled with food for many sleeps and fine tokens for the ChiefThling-Tinneh. For thou shalt turn thy face to where themidspring sun is wont to sink below the land and journey to thisgreat chief's hunting- grounds. There thou shalt make bigpresents, and Thling-Tinneh, who is my son, shall become to theeas a father. In his lodge there is a maiden into whom I breathedthe breath of life for thee. This maiden shalt thou take towife." 'O Chief, thus spake the great Raven; thus do I lay manypresents at thy feet; thus am I come to take thy daughter!' Theold man drew his furs about him with crude consciousness ofroyalty, but delayed reply while a youngster crept in, delivereda quick message to appear before the council, and was gone.'O White Man, whom we have named Moose-Killer, also known as theWolf, and the Son of the Wolf! We know thou comest of a mightyrace; we are proud to have thee our potlach-guest; but theking-salmon does not mate with the dogsalmon, nor the Raven withthe Wolf.' 'Not so!' cried Mackenzie. 'The daughters of the Ravenhave I met in the camps of the Wolf,--the squaw of Mortimer, thesquaw of Tregidgo, the squaw of Barnaby, who came two ice-runsback, and I have heard of other squaws, though my eyes beheldthem not.' 'Son, your words are true; but it were evil mating,like the water with the sand, like the snow-flake with the sun.But met you one Mason and his squaw' No?He came ten ice-runs ago,--the first of all the Wolves. And withhim there was a mighty man, straight as a willow-shoot, and tall;strong as the bald-faced grizzly, with a heart like the fullsummer moon; his-' 'Oh!' interrupted Mackenzie, recognizing thewell- known Northland figure, 'Malemute Kid!' 'The same,--amighty man. But saw you aught of the squaw? She was full sisterto Zarinska.' 'Nay, Chief; but I have heard. Mason--far, far tothe north, a spruce-tree, heavy with years, crushed out his lifebeneath. But his love was great, and he had much gold. With this,and her boy, she journeyed countless sleeps toward the winter'snoonday sun, and there she yet lives,--no biting frost, no snow,no summer's midnight sun, no winter's noonday night.'A second messenger interrupted with imperative summons from thecouncil.As Mackenzie threw him into the snow, he caught a glimpse of theswaying forms before the council-fire, heard the deep basses ofthe men in rhythmic chant, and knew the Shaman was fanning theanger of his people. Time pressed. He turned upon the chief.'Come! I wish thy child. And now, see! Here are tobacco, tea,many cups of sugar, warm blankets, handkerchiefs, both good andlarge; and here, a true rifle, with many bullets and muchpowder.' 'Nay,' replied the old man, struggling against the greatwealth spread before him. 'Even now are my people come together.They will not have this marriage.''But thou art chief.' 'Yet do my young men rage because theWolves have taken their maidens so that they may not marry.''Listen, O Thling-Tinneh! Ere the night has passed into the day,the Wolf shall face his dogs to the Mountains of the East andfare forth to the Country of the Yukon. And Zarinska shall breaktrail for his dogs.' 'And ere the night has gained its middle, myyoung men may fling to the dogs the flesh of the Wolf, and hisbones be scattered in the snow till the springtime lay thembare.' It was threat and counter-threat. Mackenzie's bronzed faceflushed darkly. He raised his voice. The old squaw, who till nowhad sat an impassive spectator, made to creep by him for thedoor.The song of the men broke suddenly and there was a hubbub of manyvoices as he whirled the old woman roughly to her couch of skins.'Again I cry--listen, O Thling-Tinneh! The Wolf dies with teethfast-locked, and with him there shall sleep ten of thy strongestmen,--men who are needed, for the hunting is not begun, and thefishing is not many moons away. And again, of what profit shouldI die? I know the custom of thy people; thy share of my wealthshall be very small. Grant me thy child, and it shall all bethine. And yet again, my brothers will come, and they are many,and their maws are never filled; and the daughters of the Ravenshall bear children in the lodges of the Wolf. My people aregreater than thy people. It is destiny. Grant, and all thiswealth is thine.' Moccasins were crunching the snow without.Mackenzie threw his rifle to cock, and loosened the twin Colts inhis belt.'Grant, O Chief!' 'And yet will my people say no.' 'Grant, andthe wealth is thine. Then shall I deal with thy people after.''The Wolf will have it so. I will take his tokens,--but I wouldwarn him.' Mackenzie passed over the goods, taking care to clogthe rifle's ejector, and capping the bargain with a kaleidoscopicsilk kerchief. The Shaman and half a dozen young braves entered,but he shouldered boldly among them and passed out.'Pack!' was his laconic greeting to Zarinska as he passed herlodge and hurried to harness his dogs. A few minutes later heswept into the council at the head of the team, the woman by hisside. He took his place at the upper end of the oblong, by theside of the chief. To his left, a step to the rear, he stationedZarinska,her proper place. Besides, the time was ripe formischief, and there was need to guard his back.On either side, the men crouched to the fire, their voices liftedin a folk-chant out of the forgotten past. Full of strange,halting cadences and haunting recurrences, it was not beautiful.'Fearful' may inadequately express it. At the lower end, underthe eye of the Shaman, danced half a score of women. Stern werehis reproofs of those who did not wholly abandon themselves tothe ecstasy of the rite. Half hidden in their heavy masses ofraven hair, all dishevelled and falling to their waists, theyslowly swayed to and fro, their forms rippling to anever-changing rhythm.It was a weird scene; an anachronism. To the south, thenineteenth century was reeling off the few years of its lastdecade; here flourished man primeval, a shade removed from theprehistoric cave-dweller, forgotten fragment of the Elder World.The tawny wolf- dogs sat between their skin-clad masters orfought for room, the firelight cast backward from their red eyesand dripping fangs. The woods, in ghostly shroud, slept onunheeding.The White Silence, for the moment driven to the rimming forest,seemed ever crushing inward; the stars danced with great leaps,as is their wont in the time of the Great Cold; while the Spiritsof the Pole trailed their robes of glory athwart the heavens.'Scruff' Mackenzie dimly realized the wild grandeur of thesetting as his eyes ranged down the fur-fringed sides in quest ofmissing faces. They rested for a moment on a newborn babe,suckling at its mother's naked breast. It was fortybelow,--seven and odd degrees of frost. He thought of the tenderwomen of his own race and smiled grimly. Yet from the loins ofsome such tender woman had he sprung with a kinglyinheritance,--an inheritance which gave to him and his dominanceover the land and sea, over the animals and the peoples of allthe zones. Single-handed against fivescore, girt by the Arcticwinter, far from his own, he felt the prompting of his heritage,the desire to possess, the wild danger--love, the thrill ofbattle, the power to conquer or to die.The singing and the dancing ceased, and the Shaman flared up inrude eloquence.Through the sinuosities of their vast mythology, he workedcunningly upon the credulity of his people. The case was strong.Opposing the creative principles as embodied in the Crow and theRaven, he stigmatized Mackenzie as the Wolf, the fighting and thedestructive principle. Not only was the combat of these forcesspiritual, but men fought, each to his totem. They were thechildren of Jelchs, the Raven, the Promethean fire- bringer;Mackenzie was the child of the Wolf, or in other words, theDevil. For them to bring a truce to this perpetual warfare, tomarry their daughters to the arch-enemy, were treason andblasphemy of the highest order. No phrase was harsh nor figurevile enough in branding Mackenzie as a sneaking interloper andemissary of Satan. There was a subdued, savage roar in the deepchests of his listeners as he took the swing of his peroration.'Aye, my brothers, Jelchs is all-powerful! Did he not bringheaven-borne fire that we might be warm? Did he not draw the sun,moon, and stars, from their holes that we might see? Did he notteach us that we might fight the Spirits of Famine and of Frost?But now Jelchs is angry with his children, and they are grown toa handful, and he will not help.For they have forgotten him, and done evil things, and trod badtrails, and taken his enemies into their lodges to sit by theirfires. And the Raven is sorrowful at the wickedness of hischildren; but when they shall rise up and show they have comeback, he will come out of the darkness to aid them. O brothers!the Fire-Bringer has whispered messages to thy Shaman; the sameshall ye hear. Let the young men take the young women to theirlodges; let them fly at the throat of the Wolf; let them beundying in their enmity! Then shall their women become fruitfuland they shall multiply into a mighty people! And the Raven shalllead great tribes of their fathers and their fathers' fathersfrom out of the North; and they shall beat back the Wolves tillthey are as last year's campfires; and they shall again come torule over all the land! 'Tis the message of Jelchs, the Raven.'This foreshadowing of the Messiah's coming brought a hoarse howlfrom the Sticks as they leaped to their feet. Mackenzie slippedthe thumbs of his mittens and waited. There was a clamor for the'Fox,' not to be stilled till one of the young men steppedforward to speak.'Brothers! The Shaman has spoken wisely. The Wolves have takenour women, and our men are childless. We are grown to a handful.The Wolves have taken our warm furs and given for them evilspirits which dwell in bottles, and clothes which come not fromthe beaver or the lynx, but are made from the grass.And they are not warm, and our men die of strange sicknesses. I,the Fox, have taken no woman to wife; and why? Twice have themaidens which pleased me gone to the camps of the Wolf. Even nowhave I laid by skins of the beaver, of the moose, of the cariboo,that I might win favor in the eyes of Thling-Tinneh, that I mightmarry Zarinska, his daughter. Even now are her snow-shoes boundto her feet, ready to break trail for the dogs of the Wolf. Nordo I speak for myself alone.As I have done, so has the Bear. He, too, had fain been thefather of her children, and many skins has he cured thereto. Ispeak for all the young men who know not wives. The Wolves areever hungry. Always do they take the choice meat at the killing.To the Ravens are left the leavings.'There is Gugkla,' he cried, brutally pointing out one of thewomen, who was a cripple.'Her legs are bent like the ribs of a birch canoe. She cannotgather wood nor carry the meat of the hunters. Did the Wolveschoose her?' 'Ai! ai!' vociferated his tribesmen.'There is Moyri, whose eyes are crossed by the Evil Spirit. Eventhe babes are affrighted when they gaze upon her, and it is saidthe bald-face gives her the trail.Was she chosen?' Again the cruel applause rang out.'And there sits Pischet. She does not hearken to my words. Neverhas she heard the cry of the chit-chat, the voice of her husband,the babble of her child.She lives in the White Silence. Cared the Wolves aught for her?No! Theirs is the choice of the kill; ours is the leavings.'Brothers, it shall not be! No more shall the Wolves slink amongour campfires. The time is come.' A great streamer of fire, theaurora borealis, purple, green, and yellow, shot across thezenith, bridging horizon to horizon. With head thrown back andarms extended, he swayed to his climax.'Behold! The spirits of our fathers have arisen and great deedsare afoot this night!' He stepped back, and another young mansomewhat diffidently came forward, pushed on by his comrades. Hetowered a full head above them, his broad chest defiantly baredto the frost. He swung tentatively from one foot to the other.Words halted upon his tongue, and he was ill at ease. His facewas horrible to look upon, for it had at one time been half tornaway by some terrific blow. At last he struck his breast with hisclenched fist, drawing sound as from a drum, and his voicerumbled forth as does the surf from an ocean cavern.'I am the Bear,--the Silver-Tip and the Son of the Silver-Tip!When my voice was yet as a girl's, I slew the lynx, the moose,and the cariboo; when it whistled like the wolverines from undera cache, I crossed the Mountains of the South and slew three ofthe White Rivers; when it became as the roar of the Chinook, Imet the bald-faced grizzly, but gave no trail.' At this hepaused, his hand significantly sweeping across his hideous scars.'I am not as the Fox. My tongue is frozen like the river. Icannot make great talk. My words are few. The Fox says greatdeeds are afoot this night. Good! Talk flows from his tongue likethe freshets of the spring, but he is chary of deeds.This night shall I do battle with the Wolf. I shall slay him, andZarinska shall sit by my fire. The Bear has spoken.' Thoughpandemonium raged about him, 'Scruff' Mackenzie held his ground.Aware how useless was the rifle at close quarters, he slippedboth holsters to the fore, ready for action, and drew hismittens till his hands were barely shielded by the elbowgauntlets. He knew there was no hope in attack en masse, but trueto his boast, was prepared to die with teeth fast-locked. But theBear restrained his comrades, beating back the more impetuouswith his terrible fist. As the tumult began to die away,Mackenzie shot a glance in the direction of Zarinska. It was asuperb picture. She was leaning forward on her snow-shoes, lipsapart and nostrils quivering, like a tigress about to spring. Hergreat black eyes were fixed upon her tribesmen, in fear anddefiance. So extreme the tension, she had forgotten to breathe.With one hand pressed spasmodically against her breast and theother as tightly gripped about the dog-whip, she was as turnedto stone. Even as he looked, relief came to her. Her musclesloosened; with a heavy sigh she settled back, giving him a lookof more than love--of worship.Thling-Tinneh was trying to speak, but his people drowned hisvoice. Then Mackenzie strode forward. The Fox opened his mouth toa piercing yell, but so savagely did Mackenzie whirl upon himthat he shrank back, his larynx all agurgle with suppressedsound. His discomfiture was greeted with roars of laughter, andserved to soothe his fellows to a listening mood.'Brothers! The White Man, whom ye have chosen to call the Wolf,came among you with fair words. He was not like the Innuit; hespoke not lies. He came as a friend, as one who would be abrother. But your men have had their say, and the time for softwords is past.First, I will tell you that the Shaman has an evil tongue and isa false prophet, that the messages he spake are not those of theFire-Bringer. His ears are locked to the voice of the Raven, andout of his own head he weaves cunning fancies, and he has madefools of you. He has no power.When the dogs were killed and eaten, and your stomachs were heavywith untanned hide and strips of moccasins; when the old mendied, and the old women died, and the babes at the dry dugs ofthe mothers died; when the land was dark, and ye perished as dothe salmon in the fall; aye, when the famine was upon you, didthe Shaman bring reward to your hunters? did the Shaman put meatin your bellies? Again I say, the Shaman is without power. Thus Ispit upon his face!' Though taken aback by the sacrilege, therewas no uproar. Some of the women were even frightened, but amongthe men there was an uplifting, as though in preparation oranticipation of the miracle. All eyes were turned upon the twocentral figures. The priest realized the crucial moment, felt hispower tottering, opened his mouth in denunciation, but fledbackward before the truculent advance, upraised fist, andflashing eyes, of Mackenzie. He sneered and resumed.Was I stricken dead? Did the lightning burn me? Did the starsfall from the sky and crush me? Pish! I have done with the dog.Now will I tell you of my people, who are the mightiest of allthe peoples, who rule in all the lands. At first we hunt as Ihunt, alone.After that we hunt in packs; and at last, like the cariboo-run,we sweep across all the land.Those whom we take into our lodges live; those who will not comedie. Zarinska is a comely maiden, full and strong, fit to becomethe mother of Wolves. Though I die, such shall she become; for mybrothers are many, and they will follow the scent of my dogs.Listen to the Law of the Wolf: Whoso taketh the life of one Wolf,the forfeit shall ten of his people pay. In many lands has theprice been paid; in many lands shall it yet be paid.'Now will I deal with the Fox and the Bear. It seems they havecast eyes upon the maiden. So? Behold, I have bought her!Thling-Tinneh leans upon the rifle; the goods of purchase are byhis fire. Yet will I be fair to the young men. To the Fox, whosetongue is dry with many words, will I give of tobacco five longplugs.Thus will his mouth be wetted that he may make much noise in thecouncil. But to the Bear, of whom I am well proud, will I give ofblankets two; of flour, twenty cups; of tobacco, double that ofthe Fox; and if he fare with me over the Mountains of the East,then will I give him a rifle, mate to Thling-Tinneh's. If not?Good! The Wolf is weary of speech. Yet once again will he say theLaw: Whoso taketh the life of one Wolf, the forfeit shall ten ofhis people pay.'Mackenzie smiled as he stepped back to his old position, but atheart he was full of trouble. The night was yet dark. The girlcame to his side, and he listened closely as she told of theBear's battle-tricks with the knife.The decision was for war. In a trice, scores of moccasins werewidening the space of beaten snow by the fire. There was muchchatter about the seeming defeat of the Shaman; some averred hehad but withheld his power, while others conned past events andagreed with the Wolf. The Bear came to the center of thebattle-ground, a long naked hunting- knife of Russian make in hishand. The Fox called attention to Mackenzie's revolvers; so hestripped his belt, buckling it about Zarinska, into whose handshe also entrusted his rifle. She shook her head that she couldnot shoot,--small chance had a woman to handle such preciousthings.'Then, if danger come by my back, cry aloud, "My husband!" No;thus, "My husband!"'He laughed as she repeated it, pinched her cheek, and reenteredthe circle. Not only in reach and stature had the Bear theadvantage of him, but his blade was longer by a good two inches.'Scruff' Mackenzie had looked into the eyes of men before, and heknew it was a man who stood against him; yet he quickened to theglint of light on the steel, to the dominant pulse of his race.Time and again he was forced to the edge of the fire or the deepsnow, and time and again, with the foot tactics of the pugilist,he worked back to the center. Not a voice was lifted inencouragement, while his antagonist was heartened with applause,suggestions, and warnings. But his teeth only shut the tighter asthe knives clashed together, and he thrust or eluded with acoolness born of conscious strength. At first he felt compassionfor his enemy; but this fled before the primal instinct of life,which in turn gave way to the lust of slaughter. The ten thousandyears of culture fell from him, and he was a cave- dweller, doingbattle for his female.Twice he pricked the Bear, getting away unscathed; but the thirdtime caught, and to save himself, free hands closed on fightinghands, and they came together.Then did he realize the tremendous strength of his opponent. Hismuscles were knotted in painful lumps, and cords and tendonsthreatened to snap with the strain; yet nearer and nearer camethe Russian steel. He tried to break away, but only weakenedhimself. The fur-clad circle closed in, certain of and anxious tosee the final stroke. But with wrestler's trick, swinging partlyto the side, he struck at his adversary with his head.Involuntarily the Bear leaned back, disturbing his center ofgravity. Simultaneous with this, Mackenzie tripped properly andthrew his whole weight forward, hurling him clear through thecircle into the deep snow. The Bear floundered out and came backfull tilt.'O my husband!' Zarinska's voice rang out, vibrant with danger.To the twang of a bow-string, Mackenzie swept low to the ground,and a bonebarbed arrow passed over him into the breast of theBear, whose momentum carried him over his crouching foe. Thenext instant Mackenzie was up and about. The bear laymotionless, but across the fire was the Shaman, drawing a secondarrow. Mackenzie's knife leaped short in the air. He caught theheavy blade by the point. There was a flash of light as itspanned the fire. Then the Shaman, the hilt alone appearingwithout his throat, swayed and pitched forward into the glowingembers.Click! Click!--the Fox had possessed himself of Thling-Tinneh'srifle and was vainly trying to throw a shell into place. But hedropped it at the sound of Mackenzie's laughter.'So the Fox has not learned the way of the plaything? He is yet awoman.Come! Bring it, that I may show thee!' The Fox hesitated.'Come, I say!' He slouched forward like a beaten cur.'Thus, and thus; so the thing is done.' A shell flew into placeand the trigger was at cock as Mackenzie brought it to shoulder.'The Fox has said great deeds were afoot this night, and he spoketrue. There have been great deeds, yet least among them werethose of the Fox. Is he still intent to take Zarinska to hislodge? Is he minded to tread the trail already broken by theShaman and the Bear?No? Good!'Mackenzie turned contemptuously and drew his knife from thepriest's throat.'Are any of the young men so minded? If so, the Wolf will takethem by two and three till none are left. No? Good!Thling-Tinneh, I now give thee this rifle a second time. If, inthe days to come, thou shouldst journey to the Country of theYukon, know thou that there shall always be a place and much foodby the fire of the Wolf. The night is now passing into the day. Igo, but I may come again. And for the last time, remember the Lawof the Wolf!' He was supernatural in their sight as he rejoinedZarinska. She took her place at the head of the team, and thedogs swung into motion. A few moments later they were swallowedup by the ghostly forest. Till now Mackenzie had waited; heslipped into his snow-shoes to follow.'Has the Wolf forgotten the five long plugs?' Mackenzie turnedupon the Fox angrily; then the humor of it struck him.'I will give thee one short plug.' 'As the Wolf sees fit,' meeklyresponded the Fox, stretching out his hand.
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