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It sloped away down, down, so gradually, yet so deeply, so widely that it warned him of the opening of the jaws of a mighty valley, through the heart of which there probably flowed the broad bosom of a very great river. The play of the phosphorescent light was the reflection of Unaga's lights caught by the myriad facets of broken ice upon its tumbled surface. Steve nodded. "Yes.
For the moment each was absorbed in his own thought. None gave a sign of the nature of that thought, but it was an easy thing to guess since their faces were turned towards the reflection of Unaga's fires. It was Steve who first withdrew his gaze. He seemed reluctant. He turned and surveyed the snowless territory about them. It was an extraordinary display of Nature's mood.
Accident was a thing simply to be avoided, and when avoidance was impossible then to be accepted without complaint. And these things had been so many. Now the wide Northland had been traversed from west to east and they had crossed the fierce bosom of Unaga's plateau. The reality of it was no better and only little worse than had been anticipated.
He had even removed his buckskin shirt. The heat was amazing. It nearly stifled him. With each mile gained the spectacle of Unaga's fires grew in intensity and sublime fury. The whole of the western world looked to be engulfed in a caldron of fire; while the belching source of it all flamed at the summit of its earthly column, amidst a churning, rose-tinted froth of cloud banks.
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