For many moments Steve remained powerless to withdraw his fascinated gaze. And all the while he was thinking of Julyman, and the story he had been told so long ago. He remembered how he had derided it as beyond belief.
At last the fascination passed, and he turned his gaze in search of those things which made this extraordinary scene possible. They were there. Oh, yes. Julyman had not lied. No one had lied about these creatures of hibernation. Piles of food were set out in earthenware bowls, similar to the bowls which contained the floating lights. Then there were other vessels, set ready to hand beside the food, and he conjectured their contents to be the necessary brew of the famous drug.
An-ina's voice broke in upon his reflections.
"Him all much sleep," she said. "No wake now. Bimeby. Oh, yes."
She spoke in her ordinary tone. She had no fear of waking these "dead" creatures.
"Tell me," Steve said after a pause, "who keeps these fires going? Who watches them? And those oil lights. Do they burn by themselves?"
An-ina made a little sound. It was almost a laugh.
"Him light burn all time. Him seal oil," she explained. "Indian man much 'fraid for devil-man come. Him light keep him devil-man 'way all time. Winter, yes. Summer, yes. Plenty oil. Only wind mak him blow out. Fire, oh yes. When him wakes bimeby him mak plenty fire. Each man. Him sit by fire all time eat. Then him sleep once more plenty. Each man wake, each man mak fire. So fire all time. No freeze dead."
"None awake now," demurred Steve lowering his voice unconsciously.
"Oh, no," returned the squaw. "No man wake now. Bimeby yes. H'st!"