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And without waiting to see how his suggestion was received, he caught up the saucepan, lifted the flap, and vanished. "Farva," remarked Kaviak, fixing melancholy eyes on Mac. "I ain't your father," muttered the gentleman so addressed. He picked up his scarf and hung it round his own neck. "Farva!" insisted Kaviak. They looked at each other. "You cold? That it, hey?"
"How did you get to the Klondyke, Kaviak?" said the Colonel in a thin, breathy voice. "Came up with Sister Winifred," Farva answered for him. "She was sent for to help with the epidemic. Dyin' like flies in Dawson h'm ahem!" Woman of her word." "Well, what you think o' Dawson?" the low voice asked.
Everyone felt it to be suspicious that Kaviak was unwilling even to try to open the all too attractive can. Was he really cunning, and did he want not to give himself away? Wasn't he said to be much older than he looked? and didn't he sometimes look a hundred, and wise for his years? "See here: I haven't caught you in a lie yet, but if I do "
Some vague sort of sound or movement in the room Kaviak on a raid? or wasn't that the closing of a door? "Kaviak!" He put his hand down and felt the straight hair of the Esquimaux in the under bunk. "Potts! Who's there?" He half sat up. "Boy! Did you hear that, Boy?" He leaned far down over the side and saw distinctly by the fire-light there was nobody but Kaviak in the under bunk.
The instant the cold air struck the child it began to cough. "Oh, you mustn't do that!" said the priest to Mac with unexpected severity. "Kaviak must lie in bed and keep warm." Down on the floor went the saucepan.
The Big Chimney men drew deep breaths, and said in their hearts the battle was over and won. Kaviak, for ever following at Mac's heels "like a rale Irish tarrier," found his allegiance waver in these stirring, blissful days, if ever Farva so belied character and custom as to swing an axe for any length of time.
Half-way up to the cotton-wood, he glanced back to make sure Kaviak wasn't following, and there, sure enough, just as the Little Cabin men had said there below him on the broad-eaved roof was a bundle packed round and nearly covered over with snow. He went back eyeing it suspiciously.
The Trader leisurely opened the door, Salmon P. keeping modestly behind, while Kaviak darted forward only to be caught back by Mac.
"And let's find it nearer water-level where the steamers can see it right away." "What about the kid?" "Me come," said Kaviak, with a highly obliging air. "No; you stay at home." "No; go too." "Go too, thou babbler! Kaviak's a better trail man than some I could mention." "We'll have to carry him home," objected Potts.
Mac, Salmon P. Hardy, and the frost-bitten Schiff were waked, bright and early Christmas morning, by the Boy's screaming with laughter. The Colonel looked down over the bunk's side, and the men on the buffalo-skin looked up, and they all saw Kaviak sitting in bed, holding in one hand an empty muckluck by the toe, and in the other a half-eaten raw potato.
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