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clear profit.
    These calculations were ended by a glance over his shoulder. Close behind him the antlers of the white buck were gaining on his tired horse. Beside the black muzzle of the reindeer was Maak's fur-tipped head.
    The eyes of the reindeer keeper were fixed on the trader. One hand gripped the antlers of the white buck. His bow had disappeared, rendered useless in any event by submergence in the river.
    The teeth of Petrovan clinked together and his jaw quivered as he reached vainly for the musket slung to his back. He was a bulky man, and the sling was tight. Moreover, the pony under him, nearly exhausted, was unsteady.
    Petrovan was up to his chest in water. Cold fingers gripped at his groin, and his teeth chattered harder than ever.
    "Keep away!" he shrieked. "I swear I will pay-pay for your herd."
    Still Maak smiled.
    "By the mercy of God," the trader's cry went on, "l swear I will pay twice over. The herd is yours-you hear? Yours!"
    It did not occur to him in his fright that Maak did not understand Russian and knew not what he was saying. The other's silence wrought on Petrovan's mounting fear, and he snatched out his pistol from his belt, which was now under water.
    Maak's head was only a man's length away, and the trader twisted in his unstable seat to pull the trigger as swiftly as his chilled fingers permitted. The flint clicked harmlessly on the steel that could not ignite the wet powder.
    Shifting the man's weight caused the pony to sink and lurch. Petro van was in the water where sharp hoofs struck and darted on every side. One split his cheek open. The heavy coat, water-soaked, and the musket weighed him down. An icy cold strangled the breath in his throat and numbed his heart.
    But the panic that gripped him was from the man who floated after him, the man who walked forward against gunshots, who smiled at the weapon in Petrovan's hand and whom the deadly cold of the river could not hurt.
    Petrovan clutched wildly at the antlers of a reindeer swimming by, missed, and was struck again by a hoof. His arms moved weakly now, and his head went under.
    Maak, numbed and helpless from submergence in the water, could only cling to the antlers of the white buck. As impotent to aid Petrovan as to harm him, the reindeer keeper was drawn into shoal water and to the shore.
    Turning here, he saw Petrovan's bare head an instant at the edge of the shore ice. Then the trader went down. Maak grunted and glanced at the Mongol, his hand moving toward the knife in his belt.
    But the erstwhile servant of Petrovan was building a fire on the ashes of the old campfire. The Mongol, who was trembling a little, motioned for Maak to draw near and warm himself. Then he pointed out the pack animals, saying that they were Maak's and that he-the Mongol-had never had aught but peace in his heart toward a khada-ulan-obokhod.
    Not until Maak had dried himself and eaten a little of the bread and tea of the other did he respond. Then he said that the packs and the ponies could go with the Mongol. Maak did not want them. He had his herd again.
    "It was a strong ijin-magic spell-that you made on the mountain heights. It bewitched the guns and slew the Russian pig without a blow. Is not that the truth?"
    So spoke the Mongol.
    ay.
    Maak shook his head.
    "I went to the mountain top to see the camp of the thieves when the snow ceased. Otherwise I could not have seen it."
    The Mongol was silent. He was in no mood to contradict his guest. But later among the Buriats he voiced the thought in his mind.
    "Maak has looked into the spirit gate. When he sat on the mountain looking for his enemies the gate in the sky was open. He talked with the Qoren Vairgin and his spirit ancestors."
    And the Mongol spoke truth, though not in the way he thought. The urge to do battle for the herd that was dearer to Maak than his own life was a heritage of forgotten ancestors.
    Maak had looked through the gate in the sky.
     

Chapter I
    Aruk and the Krit
    Bouragut, the