“Yes, I know the way. Rim Rock came across last winter, and he drew me a map. You go down the river to Alakaket Mission, then up the Alatna to the Kobuk portage, then down the Kobuk to its mouth, then swing south across Hotham Inlet, down the Choris Peninsula, and across Eschscholtz Bay to Candle, then on down to Council, and then to Nome.” “But surely, there ain’t enough travel that way to give us a trail!” “Well, not exactly a trail, all the way,” admitted the girl “but we can make it all right. Some of the Kobuks that were up at Nolan for the celebration came and went by way of the Alatna, so their trail will help even if it is snowed under. Then there is always some travel up and down the Kobuk. And after we reach Candle there is a good trail to Council and Nome.” The old man shook his head slowly: “I’m feared ’tis a hare-brained scheme, ye’ve got. But, the stakes are worth tryin’ for, if ye believe ye’ve got a chance to win. What do the boys say? Have ye told ’em?” “Yes indeed! It was Pete Enright that first suggested it, and I talked with several of the others, and they all say that my dogs have a chance, and a good chance to win. And if we go they want to send a lot of dust down to back my dogs. They say that the odds ought to be big against them because nobody off the Koyukuk has ever heard of them.” She paused, the light faded from her eyes, and as she turned away, her voice trembled: “But--it’s no use--without Skookum.” The old man comforted her as best he could with prophecies of the dog’s early return, but long after she had gone to bed he heard her sobbing softly to herself.