He's got a job at a hundred and fifty per month and grub. He's
going down to Dawson with a couple of dudes and another gentleman's
man--camp-cook, boatman, and general all-around hustler. And O'Hara
and the Billow can go to hell. Good-bye."

But John Bellew was dazed, and could only mutter:

"I don't understand."

"They say the baldface grizzlies are thick in the Yukon Basin," Kit
explained. "Well, I've got only one suit of underclothes, and I'm
going after the bear-meat, that's all."




THE MEAT.




I.

Half the time the wind blew a gale, and Smoke Bellew staggered
against it along the beach. In the gray of dawn a dozen boats were
being loaded with the precious outfits packed across Chilcoot. They
were clumsy, home-made boats, put together by men who were not boat-
builders, out of planks they had sawed by hand from green spruce
trees. One boat, already loaded, was just starting, and Kit paused
to watch.