west, and run on the camp of Armin, his girl, and two white men—­ Russians—­guided by two Kogmollocks from Coronation Gulf.  You can guess some of the rest.  The little devils had Blake and his gang about us two days after I struck them.  Bram Johnson and his wolves came along then—­from nowhere—­going nowhere.  The Kogmollocks think Bram is a great Devil, and that each of his wolves is a Devil.  If it hadn’t been for that they would have murdered us in a hurry, and Blake would have taken the girl.  They were queered by the way Bram would squat on his haunches, and stare at her.  The second day I saw him mumbling over something, and looked sharp.  He had one of Celie’s long hairs, and when he saw me he snarled like an animal, as though he feared I would take it from him.  I knew what was coming.  I knew Blake was only waiting for Bram to get away from his Kogmollocks—­so I told Celie to give Bram a strand of her hair.  She did—­with her own hands, and from that minute the madman watched her like a dog.  I tried to talk with him, but couldn’t.  I didn’t seem to be able to make him understand.  And then—­”

The Swede cut himself short.

“They’re moving, Phil!  Take the men with the battering rams—­and let them get half way before you fire! ...  You see, Bram and his wolves had to have meat.  Blake attacked while he was gone.  Russians killed—­Armin and I cornered, fighting for the girl behind us, when Bram came back like a burst of thunder.  He didn’t fight.  He grabbed the girl, and was off with her like the wind with his wolf-team.  Armin and I got into this cabin, and here—­ forty days and nights—­”

His voice stopped ominously.  A fraction of a second later it was followed by the roar of his rifle, and at the first shot one of Blake’s Kogmollocks crumpled up with a grunt half way between the snow-ridge and the forest.

CHAPTER XXVI

The Eskimos were advancing at a trot now over the open space.  Philip was amazed at their number.  There were at least a hundred, and his heart choked with a feeling of despair even as he pulled the trigger for his first shot.  He had seen the effect of Olaf’s shot, and following the Swede’s instructions aimed for his man in the nearest group behind the main line.  He did not instantly see the result, as a puff of smoke shut out his vision, but a moment later, aiming again, he saw a dark blotch left in the snow.  From his end of the crevice Olaf had seen the man go down, and he grunted his approbation.  There were five of the groups bearing tree trunks for battering-rams, and on one of these Philip concentrated the six shots in his rifle.  Four of the tree-bearers went down, and the two that were left dropped their burden and joined those ahead of them.  Until Philip stepped back to reload his gun he had not noticed Celie.  She was close at his side, peering through the gun-hole at the tragedy out on the plain.  Once before he had been astounded