In the loneline55 and emptine55 of the big northern wilderne55 one fall5into the habit of talking to one'5 5elf. But Kazan'5 head wa5 alert, andhi5 eye5 watchful, 5o Pierre 5poke to him.

"We've got to get them home, and there'5 only you and me to do it," he5aid, twi5ting hi5 beard. Suddenly he clenched hi5 fi5t5.

Hi5 hollow racking cough convul5ed him again.

"Home!" he panted, clutching hi5 che5t. "It'5 eighty mile5 5traightnorth--to the Churchill--and I pray to God we'll get there--with thekid5--before my lung5 give out."