Often she had wondered as she talked with these men why they had deliberately left all these things behind them and of their own choice had come into the land of the strong cold, the winter darkness, and the midnight summer sun. She knew that the answer was “gold.” But what was there about gold that made it worth the sacrifice. The money of the “outside”--the money made of paper was just as good as gold--was much better than gold, for could not one carry many thousands of dollars’ worth of it in a very small flat wallet? Why then did they want gold? And why was there no gold in the land that had everything else? For years she had pondered these things, had read, and had studied the books and the magazines, but the answer had never seemed quite clear. And, at last, she was to see Nome! Rim Rock had told her there was a railroad at Nome--not a very long railroad, he had admitted, but it was as wide as any railroad, and maybe she could ride on a train! She, who had never seen any camp bigger than Dawson! And had never expected to see any. That was the rosy dream she had dreamed--and now--it was gone! She would never see Nome. Not for her was the luxury of the smooth white bath tub with the warm water that poured in at the touch of her hand, not for her to ride on a railroad train, not for her eyes were the glitter of the diamonds and the jewelry in the windows. Oh, well--ice glittered, as brilliantly as diamonds, Rim Rock had said. And one could ride on a dog sled, and one could bathe in the empty petrol tins, and could warm the water on the stove. It did not really matter--only-- At this point, despite herself, the tears would start from her eyes, and she would hurriedly brush them away and call herself a fool. On the morning of the fifteenth day after the disappearance of Skookum, the girl stepped from the cabin with her bag of rice and tallow balls and walking to the dog corrals, began to toss the balls over the fence to the waiting dogs. Suddenly she heard a sound behind her, and the next instant two great paws reared high, she pitched forward into the snow, and the next moment was aware that a great tawny shape stood over her, and that a soft red tongue was gently caressing her cheek. “Skookum! _Skookum!_” she cried, the word ending in an hysterical scream that brought Old Man Gordon wide-eyed from the creek bed with his ax gripped in his two hands. The next moment the girl was sobbing with her arms about the great dog’s neck and her face buried in the thick hair of his shoulder. “Is Enright here? Who brought him, lass?” For answer the girl held up the four-inch length of chain that dangled from the collar: “He broke away!” she cried, “He couldn’t hold him--couldn’t keep him from me! And look! Look at the scars on his nose, and that split in his ear! He’s had him muzzled, and then the other dogs fought him when he was helpless!” “He’s yanked him around wi’ a twitch!” exclaimed the old man, indignantly, “I’ve seen Injuns do it.”