The little girl's work was not ended. Hers is a wonderful mission, and she is surely about to fulfill it. Born as she was in a rough mining camp at the foot of the barren hills, she was given the Eskimo name of Yahkuk, meaning a little hill, and she, like an oasis in a desert place, is left here to cheer, love, and help others. Many times I have seen evidence of the sweet and gentle influences going out from the life of little Yahkuk as she lies upon her cot of pain. A tall, brown miner enters the living room, goes to the little bed by the window, speaks softly, and, bending over the tiny girl, kisses her. Then her big, black eyes glance brightly into blue ones looking down from above, full red lips part in a cordial smile, while the one solitary dimple in the smooth, round cheek pricks its way still deeper, and small arms go up around his neck. When the man turns, his face wears a soft and tender expression as though he were looking at some beautiful sight far away, and, perhaps, he is. God grant that the sweet memory of that little child's kiss may be so lasting that all their lives, he and others, may be purer and better men. When August came I sailed away. The "Dora" had entered the bay in the morning and found my trunk packed and waiting; it was then only the work of a little time to make ready to leave. To my good missionary friends I had already said good-bye, and the captain and Mollie were kindly regretful. With tears in my eyes, but with real pain in my heart I bade Jennie good-bye, and stepped into the little boat which was to carry me to the "Dora." Farewell, then, to Chinik, the home of the north wind and blizzard. Farewell to the ice fields of Golovin, so tardy in leaving in summer, and to Keechawik and Chinik, whose clear rushing waters so cheered us in spring time. Farewell to the moss-covered hills and paths thickly bordered with blossoms. Farewell to my white-faced friends, and to the dark-skinned ones, "Beoqua." CHAPTER XXVII. GOING OUTSIDE. "Do I sleep? Do I dream? Do I wonder and doubt? Are things what they seem? Or are visions about?" I was now actually on my way home. It was not a dream, for here I was on board the snug little ocean steamer "Dora," belonging to the Alaska Commercial Company, and I was on my way to St. Michael and Dawson. For ocean travel our steamer was a perfect one in all its appointments, being staunch and reliable, with accommodating officers. After taking a last look at Chinik, I went to my stateroom. Only one stop was made before we reached St. Michael, that being at Port Denbeigh, a new mining camp where for some hours freight was unloaded. In about twenty-two hours from the time we left Chinik we were in St. Michael harbor, climbing down upon a covered barge which took us ashore.