"’Squirl he got a bushy tail, Possum’s tail am bah, Raccoon’s tail am ringed all roun’—­ Touch him ef yo dah!  Rabbit got no tail at all, Cep a little bit o’ bunch o’ hah.’"

The group on the floor, undoubtedly, liked that part of the entertainment that involved the breakdown, infinitely the best of all, but simultaneously, at its wildest moment, they all turned their heads to the door.  Mac noticed the movement, listened, and then got up, lifted the latch, and cautiously looked out.  The Boy caught a glimpse of the sky over Mac’s shoulder.

“Jimminy Christmas!” He stopped, nearly breathless.  “It can’t be a fire.  Say, boys! they’re havin’ a Blow-Out up in heaven.”

The company crowded out.  The sky was full of a palpitant light.  An Indian appeared from round the stockade; he was still staring up at the stone chimney.

“Are we on fire?”

“How-do.”  He handed Father Wills a piece of dirty paper.

“Hah!  Yes.  All right.  Andrew!”

Andrew needed no more.  He bustled away to harness the dogs.  The white men were staring up at the sky.  “What’s goin’ on in heaven, Father?  S’pose you call this the Aurora Borealis—­hey?”

“Yes,” said the priest; “and finer than we often get it.  We are not far enough north for the great displays.”

He went in to put on his parki.

Mac, after looking out, had shut the door and stayed behind with
Kaviak.

On Father Will’s return Farva, speaking apparently less to the priest than to the floor, muttered:  “Better let him stop where he is till his cold’s better.”

The Colonel came in.

“Leave the child here!” ejaculated the priest.

“—­till he’s better able to travel.”

“Why not?” said the Colonel promptly.

“Well, it would be a kindness to keep him a few days.  I’ll have to travel fast tonight.”

“Then it’s settled.”  Mac bundled Kaviak into the Boy’s bunk.

When the others were ready to go out again, Farva caught up his fur coat and went along with them.

The dogs were not quite ready.  The priest was standing a little absentmindedly, looking up.  The pale green streamers were fringed with the tenderest rose colour, and from the corona uniting them at the zenith, they shot out across the heavens, with a rapid circular and lateral motion, paling one moment, flaring up again the next.

“Wonder what makes it,” said the Colonel.

“Electricity,” Mac snapped out promptly.

The priest smiled.

“One mystery for another.”

He turned to the Boy, and they went on together, preceding the others, a little, on the way down the trail towards the river.