but it busted all right--blowed up by a earthquake an' volcano
combine. An', mister, it was oreful. My, how I did run!"

"Do you mean to tell me that some convulsion of the earth has
shattered the Graham Glacier?" I asked.

"Convulsions? Ya-as, an' fits, too," he said, sulkily. "The hull blame
thing dropped inter a hole. An' say, mister, home an' mother is good
enough fur me now."

I stared at him stupidly.

"Once," he said, "I ketched pelts fur them sharps at Hudson Bay, like
any yaller husky, but the things I seen arter that convulsion-fit--the
_things I seen behind the Hudson Mountings_--don't make me hanker
arter no life on the pe-rarie wild, lemme tell yer. I may be a Mother
Carey chicken, but this chicken has got enough."

After a long silence I picked up his book again and pointed at the
picture of the mammoth.

"What color is it?" I asked.

"Kinder red an' brown," he answered, promptly. "It's woolly, too."

Astounded, I pointed to the dingue.

"One-toed," he said, quickly; "makes a noise like a bell when
scutterin' about."