Chris waved him forward as they turned toward the wooden structure that served the airport. But, “Wait! Wait!” Ross called.

“Please go on,” Chris said. “Take Bridie in, Grampa. I’ll be there in a minute.” She stood, waiting.

Whether from running or excitement or the whip of the wind there was a flush in his cheeks that heightened his tawny good looks.

“I’m going back,” he said. Then, as she stared, uncomprehending, “Now, I mean. I’ve been demoted for six weeks.”

“Why? Demoted to—for—–?”

His smile was rueful, but it had a tinge of triumph, too. “You know this wasn’t my regular run. I swapped with Ogilvie. I wanted to be with you in Oogruk, to show you—–”

Their talk, to a listener, would now have seemed to have the non sequitur of a Chekhov play dialogue.

“Your grandmother and your aunt.”

“I wanted you to see.”

“And the boy.”

“I should have told you before, but I hadn’t the courage.”

“I talk like a little girl, you said. You treat me like one.”

“You’re going to marry Bay Husack, aren’t you?”

“I’m not going to marry anybody. Just now. I can’t imagine being married to Bay Husack or anybody.”

“Yes you can. Every time you meet an attractive guy you think what it would be like to be married to him. Every girl does.”

“It’s cold. They’re waiting for me.”

“That’s why Czar is sending you to Washington U.”

“I’ve never seen Bayard Husack in my life. He doesn’t know I exist.”

“He doesn’t have to. It’s all arranged. Husack heir, Seattle money; Kennedy heiress, Alaska money. Like royalty.”

“How silly! We can’t stand here. When are you going to be back in Baranof?”

“I’m in the doghouse. I just heard. They’re giving me six weeks on a bush-crate run between Kotzebue and a dozen little dog-sled villages. I’ll be carting the Native Service Visiting Nurses and the dentists and doctors and sick Eskimos up and down for the next six weeks.”

They stood silent, facing each other.

“You mean you’re leaving now!”

“They’re fueling up. Look, I’ll have to run for it. You’ll be in Seattle, probably, by the time I get back to Baranof. Won’t you?”

“I suppose so. Oh, Ross!”

“I’ve got to go. Can you make it to the airport all right?”

“Of course.”

“Fascinating ethnological fact. In the Eskimo language there’s no word for good-bye.”

He ran swiftly toward the waiting plane.

23

“GIVE IN, BRIDIE. Here’s a Company parka, everybody uses them, you can wear it until we leave tomorrow. Look, it’s fur-lined, it’s got a hood, you’ll be miserable here if you don’t wear it.”

“Christine Storm, I’ve never worn a parky from the day I first set foot in Alaska, and let me tell you that wasn’t yesterday.”

“But you’ve never been in Barrow before, either.”

“Never will again, if I’ve got my senses.” She glanced out of the window. The plane that had brought them was rev-ving up now on the runway. “Though I’ll say this, I’m beginning to enjoy it, now that I’m here. I’d just as soon take a spin over the North Pole, now I’m this far.”