Williams had been there; he had seen the fight--his knife had flashed
with the others in its demand for life. And yet he--Jan Thoreau--had
not been recognized by the factor out there beside the caribou roast!
He hurried toward the fire. Half-way across the open he stopped. From
out of the forest opposite Cummins' cabin there trailed slowly a team
of dogs. In the shadows of the spruce, hidden from the revelers, the
team halted. Jan heard the low voices of men, and a figure detached
itself from the gloom, walking slowly and in the manner of one near to
exhaustion in the direction of the carnival.
It was a new team. It had come from the trails to the east, and Jan's
heart gave a sudden jump as he thought of the missionary who was
expected with the overdue mail. At first he had a mind to intercept
the figure laboring across the open, but without apparent reason he
changed his course and approached the sledge.
As he came nearer, he observed a second figure, which rose from behind
the dogs and advanced to meet him. A dozen paces ahead of the team it
stopped and waited.
"Our dogs are so near exhaustion that we're afraid to take them any
nearer," said a voice. "They'd die like puppies under those packs!"
The voice thrilled Jan. He advanced with his back to the fire, so that
he could see the stranger.
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