He could hear the chief and the witch doctor talking high, and in a far corner some hungry child whimpering to sleep.  Squirming over on his side, he carefully raised his head, still just touching the furry garment.  He listened to the breathing.  It was a woman’s breathing; he would chance it.

He pressed against her side softly but firmly, and felt her start at the contact.  Again he waited, till a questioning hand slipped down upon his head and paused among the curls.  The next instant the hand turned his face gently upward, and he was gazing into Sipsu’s eyes.

She was quite collected.  Changing her position casually, she threw an elbow well over on the skin bale, rested her body upon it, and arranged her parka.  In this way he was completely concealed.  Then, and still most casually, she reclined across him, so that he could breathe between her arm and breast, and when she lowered her head her ear pressed lightly against his lips.

“When the time suits, go thou,” he whispered, “out of the lodge and across the snow, down the wind to the bunch of jackpine in the curve of the creek.  There wilt thou find my dogs and my sled, packed for the trail.  This night we go down to the Yukon; and since we go fast, lay thou hands upon what dogs come nigh thee, by the scruff of the neck, and drag them to the sled in the curve of the creek.”

Sipsu shook her head in dissent; but her eyes glistened with gladness, and she was proud that this man had shown toward her such favor.  But she, like the women of all her race, was born to obey the will masculine, and when Hitchcock repeated “Go!” he did it with authority, and though she made no answer he knew that his will was law.

“And never mind harness for the dogs,” he added, preparing to go.  “I shall wait.  But waste no time.  The day chaseth the night alway, nor does it linger for man’s pleasure.”

Half an hour later, stamping his feet and swinging his arms by the sled, he saw her coming, a surly dog in either hand.  At the approach of these his own animals waxed truculent, and he favored them with the butt of his whip till they quieted.  He had approached the camp up the wind, and sound was the thing to be most feared in making his presence known.

“Put them into the sled,” he ordered when she had got the harness on the two dogs.  “I want my leaders to the fore.”

But when she had done this, the displaced animals pitched upon the aliens.  Though Hitchcock plunged among them with clubbed rifle, a riot of sound went up and across the sleeping camp.

“Now we shall have dogs, and in plenty,” he remarked grimly, slipping an axe from the sled lashings.  “Do thou harness whichever I fling thee, and betweenwhiles protect the team.”