’So—­I—­would—­be—­in—­the snow—­but—­I—­had—­a—­debt—­to—­pay.  It—­was—­heavy—­I—­had—­a-debt—­to—­pay—­a—­debt—­to—­pay I—­had-’ The faltering monosyllables ceased as he fumbled in his pouch and drew forth a buckskin sack.  ’A—­debt—­to—­pay—­five—­pounds—­of —­gold-grub—­stake—­Mal—­e—­mute—­Kid—­I-’ The exhausted head dropped upon the table; nor could Malemute Kid rouse it again.

‘It’s Ulysses,’ he said quietly, tossing the bag of dust on the table.  ’Guess it’s all day with Axel Gunderson and the woman.  Come on, let’s get him between the blankets.  He’s Indian; he’ll pull through and tell a tale besides.’  As they cut his garments from him, near his right breast could be seen two unhealed, hard-lipped knife thrusts.

III

’I will talk of the things which were in my own way; but you will understand.  I will begin at the beginning, and tell of myself and the woman, and, after that, of the man.’  He of the Otter Skins drew over to the stove as do men who have been deprived of fire and are afraid the Promethean gift may vanish at any moment.  Malemute Kid picked up the slush lamp and placed it so its light might fall upon the face of the narrator.  Prince slid his body over the edge of the bunk and joined them.

’I am Naass, a chief, and the son of a chief, born between a sunset and a rising, on the dark seas, in my father’s oomiak.  All of a night the men toiled at the paddles, and the women cast out the waves which threw in upon us, and we fought with the storm.  The salt spray froze upon my mother’s breast till her breath passed with the passing of the tide.  But I—­I raised my voice with the wind and the storm, and lived.

‘We dwelt in Akatan—­’ ‘Where?’ asked Malemute Kid.

’Akatan, which is in the Aleutians; Akatan, beyond Chignik, beyond Kardalak, beyond Unimak.  As I say, we dwelt in Akatan, which lies in the midst of the sea on the edge of the world.  We farmed the salt seas for the fish, the seal, and the otter; and our homes shouldered about one another on the rocky strip between the rim of the forest and the yellow beach where our kayaks lay.  We were not many, and the world was very small.  There were strange lands to the east—­islands like Akatan; so we thought all the world was islands and did not mind.

’I was different from my people.  In the sands of the beach were the crooked timbers and wave-warped planks of a boat such as my people never built; and I remember on the point of the island which overlooked the ocean three ways there stood a pine tree which never grew there, smooth and straight and tall.  It is said the two men came to that spot, turn about, through many days, and watched with the passing of the light.  These two men came from out of the sea in the boat which lay in pieces on the beach.  And they were white like you, and weak as the little children when the seal have gone away and the hunters