Think of what's coming. Only a few months more of it, and we'll be
changed. And then-- think of what a heaven you'll be entering. You'll
be able to enjoy it more than the other fellows, for they've never had
this. And I'm going to bring you back a letter-- from the little
girl--"

Pelliter's face brightened.

"God bless her!" he exclaimed. "There'll be letters from her-- a dozen
of them. She's waited a long time for me, and she's true to the bottom
of her dear heart. You've got my letter safe?"

"Yes."

MacVeigh went back to the rough little table and added still further
to his report to the Commissioner of the Royal Mounted in the
following words:

"Pelliter is sick with a strange trouble in his head. At times I
have been afraid he was going mad, and if he lives I advise his
transfer south at an early date. I am leaving for Churchill two
weeks ahead of the usual time in order to get medicines. I also
wish to add a word to what I said about wolves in my last report.
We have seem them repeatedly in packs of from fifty to one
thousand. Late this autumn a pack attacked a large herd of
traveling caribou fifteen miles in from the Bay, and we counted the
remands of one hundred and sixty animals killed over a distance of
less than three miles. It is my opinion that the wolves kill at
least five thousand caribou in this patrol each year.