desire　to　possess；　the　wild　danger…　love；　the　thrill　of　battle；　the
  power　to　conquer　or　to　die。
  The　singing　and　the　dancing　ceased；　and　the　Shaman　flared　up　in　rude
  eloquence。　Through　the　sinuosities　of　their　vast　mythology；　he
  worked　cunningly　upon　the　credulity　of　his　people。　The　case　was
  strong。　Opposing　the　creative　principles　as　embodied　in　the　Crow　and
  the　Raven；　he　stigmatized　Mackenzie　as　the　Wolf；　the　fighting　and
  the　destructive　principle。　Not　only　was　the　combat　of　these　forces
  spiritual；　but　men　fought；　each　to　his　totem。　They　were　the　children
  of　Jelchs；　the　Raven；　the　Promethean　fire…bringer；　Mackenzie　was　the
  child　of　the　Wolf；　or　in　other　words；　the　Devil。　For　them　to　bring　a
  truce　to　this　perpetual　warfare；　to　marry　their　daughters　to　the
  arch…enemy；　were　treason　and　blasphemy　of　the　highest　order。　No　phrase
  was　harsh　nor　figure　vile　enough　in　branding　Mackenzie　as　a　sneaking
  interloper　and　emissary　of　Satan。　There　was　a　subdued；　savage　roar
  in　the　deep　chests　of　his　listeners　as　he　took　the　swing　of　his
  peroration。
  'Aye；　my　brothers；　Jelchs　is　all…powerful！　Did　he　not　bring
  heaven…borne　fire　that　we　might　be　warm？　Did　he　not　draw　the　sun；
  moon；　and　stars；　from　their　holes　that　we　might　see？　Did　he　not
  teach　us　that　we　might　fight　the　Spirits　of　Famine　and　of　Frost？　But
  now　Jelchs　is　angry　with　his　children；　and　they　are　grown　to　a
  handful；　and　he　will　not　help。　For　they　have　forgotten　him；　and　done
  evil　things；　and　trod　bad　trails；　and　taken　his　enemies　into　their
  lodges　to　sit　by　their　fires。　And　the　Raven　is　sorrowful　at　the
  wickedness　of　his　children；　but　when　they　shall　rise　up　and　show
  they　have　come　back；　he　will　come　out　of　the　darkness　to　aid　them。　O
  brothers！　the　Fire…Bringer　has　whispered　messages　to　thy　Shaman；　the
  same　shall　ye　hear。　Let　the　young　men　take　the　young　women　to　their
  lodges；　let　them　fly　at　the　throat　of　the　Wolf；　let　them　be　undying　in
  their　enmity！　Then　shall　their　women　become　fruitful　and　they　shall
  multiply　into　a　mighty　people！　And　the　Raven　shall　lead　great　tribes
  of　their　fathers　and　their　fathers'　fathers　from　out　of　the　North；　and
  they　shall　beat　back　the　Wolves　till　they　are　as　last　year's
  campfires；　and　they　shall　again　come　to　rule　over　all　the　land！　'Tis
  the　message　of　Jelchs；　the　Raven。'
  This　foreshadowing　of　the　Messiah's　coming　brought　a　hoarse　howl
  from　the　Sticks　as　they　leaped　to　their　feet。　Mackenzie　slipped　the
  thumbs　of　his　mittens　and　waited。　There　was　a　clamor　for　the　'Fox；'
  not　to　be　stilled　till　one　of　the　young　men　stepped　forward　to　speak。
  'Brothers！　The　Shaman　has　spoken　wisely。　The　Wolves　have　taken　our
  women；　and　our　men　are　childless。　We　are　grown　to　a　handful。　The
  Wolves　have　taken　our　warm　furs　and　given　for　them　evil　spirits
  which　dwell　in　bottles；　and　clothes　which　come　not　from　the　beaver
  or　the　lynx；　but　are　made　from　the　grass。　And　they　are　not　warm；　and
  our　men　die　of　strange　sicknesses。　I；　the　Fox；　have　taken　no　woman
  to　wife；　and　why？　Twice　have　the　maidens　which　pleased　me　gone　to
  the　camps　of　the　Wolf。　Even　now　have　I　laid　by　skins　of　the　beaver；　of
  the　moose；　of　the　cariboo；　that　I　might　win　favor　in　the　eyes　of
  Thling…Tinneh；　that　I　might　marry　Zarinska；　his　daughter。　Even　now　are
  her　snow…shoes　bound　to　her　feet；　ready　to　break　trail　for　the　dogs　of
  the　Wolf。　Nor　do　I　speak　for　myself　alone。　As　I　have　done；　so　has
  the　Bear。　He；　too；　had　fain　been　the　father　of　her　children；　and
  many　skins　has　he　cured　thereto。　I　speak　for　all　the　young　men　who
  know　not　wives。　The　Wolves　are　ever　hungry。　Always　do　they　take　the
  choice　meat　at　the　killing。　To　the　Ravens　are　left　the　leavings。
  'There　is　Gugkla；'　he　cried；　brutally　pointing　out　one　of　the　women；
  who　was　a　cripple。　'Her　legs　are　bent　like　the　ribs　of　a　birch
  canoe。　She　cannot　gather　wood　nor　carry　the　meat　of　the　hunters。　Did
  the　Wolves　choose　her？'
  'Ai！　ai！'　vociferated　his　tribesmen。
  'There　is　Moyri；　whose　eyes　are　crossed　by　the　Evil　Spirit。　Even　the
  babes　are　affrighted　when　they　gaze　upon　her；　and　it　is　said　the
  bald…face　gives　her　the　trail。　Was　she　chosen？'
  Again　the　cruel　applause　rang　out。
  'And　there　sits　Pischet。　She　does　not　hearken　to　my　words。　Never　has
  she　heard　the　cry　of　the　chit…chat；　the　voice　of　her　husband；　the
  babble　of　her　child。　She　lives　in　the　White　Silence。　Cared　the
  Wolves　aught　for　her？　No！　Theirs　is　the　choice　of　the　kill；　ours　is
  the　leavings。
  'Brothers；　it　shall　not　be！　No　more　shall　the　Wolves　slink　among　our
  campfires。　The　time　is　come。'
  A　great　streamer　of　fire；　the　aurora　borealis；　purple；　green；　and
  yellow；　shot　across　the　zenith；　bridging　horizon　to　horizon。　With　head
  thrown　back　and　arms　extended；　he　swayed　to　his　climax。
  'Behold！　The　spirits　of　our　fathers　have　arisen　and　great　deeds
  are　afoot　this　night！'
  He　stepped　back；　and　another　young　man　somewhat　diffidently　came
  forward；　pushed　on　by　his　comrades。　He　towered　a　full　head　above　them；
  his　broad　chest　defiantly　bared　to　the　frost。　He　swung　tentatively
  from　one　foot　to　the　other。　Words　halted　upon　his　tongue；　and　he　was
  ill　at　ease。　His　face　was　horrible　to　look　upon；　for　it　had　at　one
  time　been　half　torn　away　by　some　terrific　blow。　At　last　he　struck
  his　breast　with　his　clenched　fist；　drawing　sound　as　from　a　drum；　and
  his　voice　rumbled　forth　as　does　the　surf　from　an　ocean　cavern。
  'I　am　the　Bear；…　the　Silver…Tip　and　the　Son　of　the　Silver…Tip！
  When　my　voice　was　yet　as　a　girl's；　I　slew　the　lynx；　the　moose；　and　the
  cariboo；　when　it　whistled　like　the　wolverines　from　under　a　cache；　I
  crossed　the　Mountains　of　the　South　and　slew　three　of　the　White　Rivers；
  when　it　became　as　the　roar　of　the　Chinook；　I　met　the　bald…faced
  grizzly；　but　gave　no　trail。'
  At　this　he　paused；　his　hand　significantly　sweeping　across　his
  hideous　scars。
  'I　am　not　as　the　Fox。　My　tongue　is　frozen　like　the　river。　I　cannot
  make　great　talk。　My　words　are　few。　The　Fox　says　great　deeds　are
  afoot　this　night。　Good！　Talk　flows　from　his　tongue　like　the　freshets
  of　the　spring；　but　he　is　chary　of　deeds。　This　night　shall　I　do
  battle　with　the　Wolf。　I　shall　slay　him；　and　Zarinska　shall　sit　by　my
  fire。　The　Bear　has　spoken。'
  Though　pandemonium　raged　about　him；　'Scruff'　Mackenzie　held　his
  ground。　Aware　how　useless　was　the　rifle　at　close　quarters；　he
  slipped　both　holsters　to　the　fore；　ready　for　action；　and　drew　his
  mittens　till　his　hands　were　barely　shielded　by　the　elbow　gauntlets。　He
  knew　there　was　no　hope　in　attack　en　masse；　but　true　to　his　boast；
  was　prepared　to　die　with　teeth　fast…locked。　But　the　Bear　restrained
  his　comrades；　beating　back　the　more　impetuous　with　his　terrible
  fist。　As　the　tumult　began　to　die　away；　Mackenzie　shot　a　glance　in
  the　direction　of　Zarinska。　It　was　a　superb　picture。　She　was　leaning
  forward　on　her　snow…shoes；　lips　apart　and　nostrils　quivering；　like　a
  tigress　about　to　spring。　Her　great　black　eyes　were　fixed　upon　her
  tribesmen；　in　fear　and　defiance。　So　extreme　the　tension；　she　had
  forgotten　to　breathe。　With　one　hand　pressed　spasmodically　against
  her　breast　and　the　other　as　tightly　gripped　about　the　dog…whip；　she
  was　as　turned　to　stone。　Even　as　he　looked；　relief　came　to　her。　Her
  muscles　loosened；　with　a　heavy　sigh　she　settled　back；　giving　him　a
  look　of　more　than　love…　of　worship。
  Thling…Tinneh　was　trying　to　speak；　but　his　people　drowned　his　voice。
  Then　Mackenzie　strode　forward。　The　Fox　opened　his　mouth　to　a
  piercing　yell；　but　so　savagely　did　Mackenzie　whirl　upon　him　that　he
  shrank　back；　his　larynx　all　agurgle　with　suppressed　sound。　His
  discomfiture　was　greeted　with　roars　of　laughter；　and　served　to
  soothe　his　fellows　to　a　listening　mood。
  'Brothers！　The　White　Man；　whom　ye　have　chosen　to　call　the　Wolf；　came
  among　you　with　fair　words。　He　was　not　like　the　Innuit；　he　spoke　not
  lies。　He　came　as　a　friend；　as　one　who　would　be　a　brother。　But　your　men
  have　had　their　say；　and　the　time　for　soft　words　is　past。　First；　I　will
  tell　you　that　the　Shaman　has　an　evil　tongue　and　is　a　false　prophet；
  that　the　messages　he　spake　are　not　those　of　the　Fire…Bringer。　His　ears
  are　locked　to　the　voice　of　the　Raven；　and　out　of　his　own　head　he
  weaves　cunning　fancies；　and　he　has　made　fools　of　you。　He　has　no　power。
  When　the　dogs　were　killed　and　eaten；　and　your　stomachs　were　heavy　with
  untanned　hide　and　strips　of　moccasins；　when　the　old　men　died；　and
  the　old　women　died；　and　the　babes　at　the　dry　dugs　of　the　mothers　died；
  when　the　land　was　dark；　and　ye　perished　as　do　the　salmon　in　the
  fall；　aye；　when　the　famine　was　upon　you；　did　the　Shaman　bring　reward
  to　your　hunters？　did　the　Shaman　put　meat　in　your　bellies？　Again　I　say；
  the　Shaman　is　without　power。　Thus　I　spit　upon　his　face！'
  Though　taken　aback　by　the　sacrilege；　there　was　no　uproar。　Some　of
  the　women　were　even　frightened；　but　among　the　men　there　was　an
  uplifting；　as　though　in　preparation　or　anticipation　of　the　miracle。
  All　eyes　were　turned　upon　the　two　central　figures。　The　priest