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Updated: May 13, 2025
She not say 'An-ina come, too, so she frighten all devil men away. Oh, no. An-ina woman. She not scare any more as Steve an' Marcel. She sit by fire. She mak' Steve him shirt. She have gun, plenty. No man come. Oh, no. She not scare for nothing. An-ina brave woman, too. Steve, Marcel mak' her coward. Oh, no. Outfit ready Julyman Oolak all him dogs. Yes. Steve him go right away.
But there was something tremendous in the meaning of that living presence in the voiceless solitudes which the ages have failed to stir. The sleds were still. The dogs lay sprawled for rest awaiting the will of their masters. Julyman stood abreast of Steve, tall, lean, but bulky in his frosted furs. Oolak stood over his dogs, which were his first care.
But he did, and his high-pitched greeting to the man with the dog train floated back upon the still, cold air as he floundered farther and farther away. "Hello! hello! hello!" The greeting came back at intervals. And Steve wondered at the feelings of the silent Oolak when he heard that voice, and saw that baby figure sprinting and wobbling over the snow towards him. "Missis gone dead."
Then he laughed, "Guess we've dreamed dreams these fourteen years. And we're still sitting around waiting for things to happen." Despite his concern Oolak tore at the meat with his sharp teeth, and ate with noisy satisfaction. "Him all fire. Burn up all things. Oh, yes. Bimeby we find him," he said doggedly. Steve was in the act of drinking. He paused, his pannikin remaining poised. "You guess "
It seemed to be flung up with great force. For a moment it remained poised. Then it crashed over on its side to the accompaniment of a cracking, splitting roar, like the bombardment of massed artillery. Steve waited for nothing. Even with the roar of sub-glacial thunders hammering on his ear drums, he rushed to the man's assistance. Oolak turned to his own dogs.
"Guess I'll eat right away, and after that we'll get along an' take a peek at these folks. The boys got the snow clear outside?" "Him dig much. Snow plenty gone." "Good. And little Marcel?" Steve enquired, with a tender smile. "Has he been digging?" The squaw's eyes lit. "Oh, yes, him boy dig. An' Julyman, an' him Oolak all laff. Boy dig all time, everywhere." An-ina laughed in her silent way.
They stood up like black, unsightly, broken teeth, against a cavernous background of fire burning in the maw of some Moloch colossus. They stood out bared to the bone of the world's foundations. Julyman shaded his eyes with hands that sought to shut out a vision his savage superstition could no longer support. Oolak had no such emotion.
Steve had been relieved for his midday meal. He was relieved by An-ina, assisted by Julyman. Oolak stood by with his club, ready for any display of the predatory instincts that yielded to temptation. Steve had not yet returned from the kitchen. He had finished his hearty meal and lit his pipe.
Ahead of them lay another short rise whose crest was dotted with timber bluffs. It was beyond this they hoped to discover the winter shelter they were seeking. Somewhere behind them the indomitable Oolak, silent, enduring, was shepherding their own dog train over their tracks. The end of the month had come and their fortunes were at a crisis.
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