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Updated: June 23, 2025
With the returning light of the sun, and the steadily rising temperature, the ghostly foliage would promptly assume Nature's happy green and the world would ripen with the rapidity of a forcing house. Then Steve's eyes were suddenly raised to the dark vault of the skies. The lights of the night had been largely obscured. Only the heart of Unaga still remained shining with unabated splendour.
She had found one to take their places, one whose first act had been his re-assurance that she should not be robbed of the child who was her all. There was no one greater in all the world to her than the "white man officer" whose courage and will she counted as powers greater than the storms of Unaga. All day she laboured at her many tasks.
He recognized it instantly, and the fiery heart of Unaga was forgotten. A mighty glacier barred the way, and the peak on which they stood was its highest point. It stretched out far ahead. It reached beyond such range of vision as the Arctic night permitted.
The whole purpose of his life on Unaga had been denied him. Where he had sought and striven for Marcel, he had only partially made good. The promised fortune was amassing only slowly, painfully, while the child had grown to manhood with a rapidity that far outstripped it. The source of the elusive Adresol had remained hidden. Nature, and the Sleeper Indians, had refused him their secret.
And would she not gaze once more upon the pleasant lands that gave her birth? Oh, yes. She knew. It was a great rush to the promised home, far from the desperate life on the plateau of Unaga, with the child, whose dancing eyes and happy smile were like a ray of sunshine amidst the shadows of her life.
It's right in the heart of Unaga, where the world's afire, like hell opened up from below. Say, boy, I've seen wonders, the like I never dreamed about, and we beat all this country could set up to keep safe its secrets. We passed through one hell only to reach a worse. But we got it. We found it. And the fight's won." Marcel forgot everything in that concise narrative of Steve's success.
So it came that one day, towards the end of Steve's convalescence, the Superintendent found himself occupying the solitary chair, with Steve lounging smoking on the be-patterned coverlet of the bed, talking of the Unaga Indians and their habits of hibernation which sounded so incredible to the man who had never seen for himself. Steve had a bunch of mail lying on the bed beside him.
"'You will at once place yourself in touch with the police in your district, and see that the whole matter is investigated forthwith." He glanced up as he uttered the final word. "You know what that means?" he enquired, searching the eyes that were so profoundly observing him across the table. Steve nodded. "Sure." "It means you'll have to make the Unaga country right away." "Sure."
And just about the time the old sun gets sick worrying to make Unaga a fit place for better than skitters and things, and chases off for its winter sleep, why we're hitting right back to the place I come from.
It was dark, dark, in contrast to the crystal splendour outspread, and frowned with the unyielding hue of the barren rock. "Boss look!" It was the first intimation of Julyman's presence. Steve accepted it without question. He was wholly absorbed in what he beheld. The Indian was at his side pointing at the monstrous tower. "Him Unaga Unaga Spire. Julyman know. Him Father wise man.
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