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He had reached so nearly the heart of Unaga, and beyond, somewhere towards the shores of Hudson's Bay lay that winter goal where he hoped to find the friendly shelter of the home of the seal-hunting Eskimo who peopled the regions. He ploughed his way through the snow towards the summit of the ridge. For all his outward calm Steve Allenwood was deeply stirred.

And Ross took it, and, for some thoughtful moments, sat gazing upon the strange product of the hidden Unaga. Then he gingerly picked up some of the shrivelled weed for a closer examination, and, a moment later, pressed it against his nose and inhaled deeply. As he did so, Steve, watching him, beheld a sudden excited lighting of his eyes. "You know it, Doc," he said. "I don't need to ask."

The work they asked of me was investigation into the death of two white men who were thought to be traders up in Unaga, where they didn't reckon there were any white folk. So I told them a yarn that's simple truth, but which hid up all the things I didn't see putting them wise to. They guessed these men had been murdered by the Eskimo. Well, they weren't.

It was thrilling with a hope and emotion which her words failed to express. "Yes. I'm back for keeps." Steve's gaze came back to the soft eyes of the woman. "That is, I'm going back to Unaga with the boy. Will An-ina come, too?" "Boss Steve go back Unaga?" A startled light had replaced the softness of the Woman's eyes. Then, after a moment, as no reply was forthcoming, she went on. "Oh, yes.

It was the moment of the shattering of the confidence of years. A wide fissure, of the proportions of a chasm, had opened up just beyond where the mishap had occurred. It was as Oolak said. The grey headland looked to be moving backwards, vanishing in the shadows of the Arctic night. The approach to the heart of Unaga was yielding a reality that had been entirely uncalculated.

He knew the Northern world, his world, too well. He knew the type of woman that haunted the habitations of man in such regions as Unaga. And so he had feared for Marcel. Since that time had happened those things which warned him of a wide-flung conspiracy of which his secret trade in Adresol was the centre.

There's no more unreal to Adresol than there is to the hell fires raging away out there in the heart of Unaga, where the whole place is white like a lake of pure milk with the bloom of the plant that breathes certain death, but which holds in its heart the greatest benefit the world's ever known. It's all queer, I allow. But say " He turned and pointed at the store-house. "It's all there.

She had realized, during the weeks that had elapsed since Steve's return from the heart of Unaga, a curious growing bodily lassitude in the man. It was something approaching inertia, and she knew its cause. Fear had grown up in her simple Indian mind and heart. She wanted to speak. She wanted to offer her warning.

Besides for all his desire to protest, he knew he must go, or sacrifice that thing which had brought him to Unaga. With characteristic decision he accepted her protest. He knew her generosity and courage. But a sense of shame was not lacking at the thought that the very position he had used to convince Marcel could not be allowed to stand where his purpose was threatened.

Him tell of Unaga Spire. Him hot. Him hot lak hell. Him all burn up snow ice. Him burn up all thing. Come. It not good. Him Unaga Spire!" A wide declining expanse stretched out before them as Steve and Julyman swung along over the snow. They were following the track of a dog train, leaving behind them the added tracks of their own snow-shoes to mark the way.