’As I say, we came thus through the forest, till the smell of the camp smoke was in our nostrils.  And I bent above him, and tore the ptarmigan from his teeth.

’He turned on his side and rested, the wonder mounting in his eyes, and the hand which was under slipping slow toward the knife at his hip.  But I took it from him, smiling close in his face.  Even then he did not understand.  So I made to drink from black bottles, and to build high upon the snow a pile—­of goods, and to live again the things which had happened on the night of my marriage.  I spoke no word, but he understood.  Yet was he unafraid.  There was a sneer to his lips, and cold anger, and he gathered new strength with the knowledge.  It was not far, but the snow was deep, and he dragged himself very slow.

’Once he lay so long I turned him over and gazed into his eyes.  And sometimes he looked forth, and sometimes death.  And when I loosed him he struggled on again.  In this way we came to the fire.  Unga was at his side on the instant.  His lips moved without sound; then he pointed at me, that Unga might understand.  And after that he lay in the snow, very still, for a long while.  Even now is he there in the snow.

’I said no word till I had cooked the ptarmigan.  Then I spoke to her, in her own tongue, which she had not heard in many years.  She straightened herself, so, and her eyes were wonder-wide, and she asked who I was, and where I had learned that speech.

’"I am Naass,” I said.

’"You?” she said.  “You?” And she crept close that she might look upon me.

’"Yes,” I answered; “I am Naass, head man of Akatan, the last of the blood, as you are the last of the blood.”  ’And she laughed.  By all the things I have seen and the deeds I have done may I never hear such a laugh again.  It put the chill to my soul, sitting there in the White Silence, alone with death and this woman who laughed.

’"Come!” I said, for I thought she wandered.  “Eat of the food and let us be gone.  It is a far fetch from here to Akatan.”  ’But she shoved her face in his yellow mane, and laughed till it seemed the heavens must fall about our ears.  I had thought she would be overjoyed at the sight of me, and eager to go back to the memory of old times, but this seemed a strange form to take.

’"Come!” I cried, taking her strong by the hand.  “The way is long and dark.  Let us hurry!” “Where?” she asked, sitting up, and ceasing from her strange mirth.

’"To Akatan,” I answered, intent on the light to grow on her face at the thought.  But it became like his, with a sneer to the lips, and cold anger.

’"Yes,” she said; “we will go, hand in hand, to Akatan, you and I. And we will live in the dirty huts, and eat of the fish and oil, and bring forth a spawn—­a spawn to be proud of all the days of our life.  We will forget the world and be happy, very happy.  It is good, most good.  Come!  Let us hurry.  Let us go back to Akatan.”  And she ran her hand through his yellow hair, and smiled in a way which was not good.  And there was no promise in her eyes.