wolves he gave a portion, after which he seated himself on the
sledge and began devouring a slice of the raw meat. He had left
the blade of his knife buried in the carcass--an invitation for
Philip to help himself. Philip seated himself near Bram and opened
his pack. Purposely he began placing his food between them, so
that the other might help himself if he so desired. Bram's jaws
ceased their crunching. For a moment Philip did not look up. When
he did he was startled. Bram's eyes were blazing with a red fire.
He was staring at the cooked food. Never had Philip seen such a
look in a human face before.

He reached out and seized a chunk of bannock, and was about to
bite into it when with the snarl of a wild beast Bram dropped his
meat and was at him. Before Philip could raise an arm in defense
his enemy had him by the throat. Back over the sledge they went.
Philip scarcely knew how it happened--but in another moment the
giant had hurled him clean over his head and he struck the frozen
plain with a shock that stunned him. When he staggered to his
feet, expecting a final assault that would end him, Bram was
kneeling beside his pack. A mumbling and incoherent jargon of
sound issued from his thick lips as he took stock of Philip's
supplies. Of Philip himself he seemed now utterly oblivious. Still
mumbling, he dragged the pile of bear skins from the sledge,
unrolled them, and revealed a worn and tattered dunnage bag. At
first Philip thought this bag was empty. Then Bram drew from it a
few small packages, some of them done up in paper and others in
bark. Only one of these did Philip recognize--a half pound package
of tea such as the Hudson's Bay Company offers in barter at its
stores. Into the dunnage bag Bram now put Philip's supplies, even
to the last crumb of bannock, and then returned the articles he