Once, in the forest, an overburdened pine dropped its load of snow, and the echoes reverberated hollowly down the gorge; but neither stirred.  The short day had been waning fast, and darkness was wrapping round the camp when White Fang trotted up toward the fire.  He paused to reconnoitre, but not being driven back, came closer.  His nose shot swiftly to the side, nostrils a-tremble and bristles rising along the spine; and straight and true, he followed the sudden scent to his master’s head.  He sniffed it gingerly at first and licked the forehead with his red lolling tongue.  Then he sat abruptly down, pointed his nose up at the first faint star, and raised the long wolf-howl.

This brought Su-Su to herself.  She glanced across at Keesh, who had unsheathed the Russian knife and was watching her intently.  His face was firm and set, and in it she read the law.  Slipping back the hood of her parka, she bared her neck and rose to her feet There she paused and took a long look about her, at the rimming forest, at the faint stars in the sky, at the camp, at the snow-shoes in the snow—­a last long comprehensive look at life.  A light breeze stirred her hair from the side, and for the space of one deep breath she turned her head and followed it around until she met it full-faced.

Then she thought of her children, ever to be unborn, and she walked over to Keesh and said, “I am ready.”

THE DEATH OF LIGOUN

Blood for blood, rank for rank.

—­Thlinket Code.

“Hear now the death of Ligoun—­”

The speaker ceased, or rather suspended utterance, and gazed upon me with an eye of understanding.  I held the bottle between our eyes and the fire, indicated with my thumb the depth of the draught, and shoved it over to him; for was he not Palitlum, the Drinker?  Many tales had he told me, and long had I waited for this scriptless scribe to speak of the things concerning Ligoun; for he, of all men living, knew these things best.

He tilted back his head with a grunt that slid swiftly into a gurgle, and the shadow of a man’s torso, monstrous beneath a huge inverted bottle, wavered and danced on the frown of the cliff at our backs.  Palitlum released his lips from the glass with a caressing suck and glanced regretfully up into the ghostly vault of the sky where played the wan white light of the summer borealis.

“It be strange,” he said; “cold like water and hot like fire.  To the drinker it giveth strength, and from the drinker it taketh away strength.  It maketh old men young, and young men old.  To the man who is weary it leadeth him to get up and go onward, and to the man unweary it burdeneth him into sleep.  My brother was possessed of the heart of a rabbit, yet did he drink of it, and forthwith slay four of his enemies.  My father was like a great wolf, showing his teeth to all men, yet did he drink of it and was shot through the back, running swiftly away.  It be most strange.”