their raw fish, for the journey was short and
provisions plentiful. The two men fared in their usual plain way. They
slept in their fur-lined bags while the wolfish burden-bearers of the
North first prowled, argued out their private quarrels, sang in chorus
as the northern lights moved fantastically in the sky, and finally
curled themselves in their several snow-burrows.

The camp was struck at daylight next morning and the journey resumed.
The dogs raced fresh and strong after their rest, and the miles were
devoured with greedy haste. The white valleys wound in a mazy tangle
round the foot of tremendous hills, but never a mistake in direction was
made by the driver, Nick. To him the trail was as plain as though every
foot of it were marked by well-packed snow; every landmark was
anticipated, every inch of that chaotic land was an open book. A "Gee,"
or a sudden "Haw" and a fresh basin of magnificent primeval forest would
open before the travellers. And so the unending ocean of mountain
rollers and forest troughs continued. No variation, save from the dead
white of the open snowfields to the heavy shadows of the forest. Always
the strange, mystic grey twilight; the dazzling sparkle of glinting
snow; the biting air which stung the flesh like the sear of a red-hot
iron; the steady run of dogs and men. On, on, with no thought of time to
harass the mind, only the destination to think of.

And when they came to Little Choyeuse Creek they were welcomed in person
by Victor Gagnon. He awaited them at his threshold. The clumsy stockade
of lateral pine logs, a relic of the old Indian days when it was
necessary for every fur store to be a fortress, was now a wreck. A few
upright posts were standing, but the rest had long since been used to
bank the stoves with.

The afternoon was spent in barter, and the time was one of beaming good
nature, for Victor was a shrewd dealer, and the two brothers had little
real estimate of the value of money. They sold their pelts in sets,
regardless of quality. And when the last was traded, and Victor had
parted the value in stores and cash, there came a strong feeling of
relief to the trappers. Now for their brief holiday.

It was the custom on the occasion of these visits to make merry in a
temperate way. Victor was never averse to such doings for there was
French blood in his veins. He could sing a song, and most of his ditties
were either of the old days of the Red River Valley, or dealt wit