And with the beginning of dusk Miki began to hear weird and strange sounds which grew louder as darkness settled deeper.

It was the sound of the carnival at the Post--the distant tumult of human voice mingled with the howling of a hundred dogs.

He had never heard anything like it before, and for a long time he listened without moving.

Then he stood up like a man before the window with this fore-paws resting against the heavy sash.

Ribon's cabin was at the crest of a knoll that over-looked the frozen lake, and far off, over the tops of the scrub timber that fringed the edge of it, Miki saw the red glow in the sky made by a score of great camp fires.