at Dick's feet a couple of children gnawed together on a last-year's moose-bone dug out of the snow. The breed looked down on them with pride.
"Mine," he said, in the French of the half-breed West. "I have a brother who is un homme blanc."
He explained further that his brother lived in a white-man house "outside" and drank and swore after the manner that white-men use. He clung to that piece of civilisation as Randel clung to his battery-key and Jennifer to her silk portières, and Dick nodded.
"You're belly-pinched, my friend," he said. "And you're old before your time. But you are a happier man than your brother. Your social problems don't keep you awake o' nights, I imagine. Now, tell me what you know of that lost tribe of Israel which has gone up into the Clear Hills to find a picturesque place to sacrifice Isaac in."
What the breed told, Dick afterwards translated to Kennedy in the tent.
"They're camped some place where they expect to make out for the winter. But they can't be hunters, for they have already traded most of their clothing here for food. I'm taking dried moosemeat along, and we can give 'em some skins if they'll wear them. But I'd like to know why nakedness and certain phases of religion go together, and I'd like to know what we're to do with that nursery when we find it."
Kennedy was rubbing his knotted calves where the last hour's cramp had caught him. But three days with Dick had taught him to endure his pains without comment, and the agonising snow-shoe ache was eased since he had learned to grease the instep and properly lace the thongs.
"Will we have to bring all the beggars in?" he demanded.
"The Lord forbid," said Dick, and laughed. "There should be four men and eleven women and six children. But we'll leave that puzzle till we come to it, I think."
On the second afternoon they came to the puzzle, where a crazy knot of branch-made shacks, helped out by slabs
