"Awful hurry to get to somebody that sent for him. Funny fellas these Jesuits. They believe all those odd things they teach."
"So do other men," said the Colonel, curtly.
"Well, I've lived in a Christian country all my life, but I don't know that I ever saw Christianity practised till I went up the Yukon to Holy Cross."
"I must say you're complimentary to the few other Christians scattered about the world."
"Don't get mifft, Colonel. I've known plenty of people straight as a die, and capital good fellows. I've seen them do very decent things now and then. But with these Jesuit missionaries—Lord! there's no let up to it."
No answer from the Protestant Colonel. Presently the Boy in a sleepy voice added elegantly:
"No Siree! The Jesuits go the whole hog!"
Winter was down on the camp again. The whole world was hard as iron. The men kept close to the Big Chimney all day long, and sat there far into the small hours of the morning, saying little, heavy-eyed and sullen. The dreaded insomnia of the Arctic had laid hold on all but the Colonel. Even his usually unbroken repose was again disturbed one night about a week later. Some vague sort of sound or movement in the room—Kaviak on a raid?—or—wasn't that the closing of a door?
"Kaviak!" He put his hand down and felt the straight hair of the Esquimaux in the under bunk. "Potts! Who's there?" He half sat up. "Boy! Did you hear that, Boy?"