s delight
was boisterous and unrestrained. He revelled openly in the prospect of
the morrow's journey.

Nor had broad daylight power to shake the purpose of the night. Too long
had the trappers brooded upon the story of the White Squaw. Victor knew
his men so well too; while they breakfasted he used every effort to
encourage them. He literally herded them on by dint of added detail and
well-timed praise of the woman's beauty.

And after the meal the sled was prepared. Victor was chief adviser. He
made them take a supply of essences and "trade." He told them of the
disposition of Man-of-the-Snow-Hill, the Moosefoot chief, assuring them
he would sell his soul for strong drink. No encouragement was left
ungiven, and, well before noon, the dogs stood ready in the traces.

A hearty farewell; then out upon the white trail Nick strung the willing
beasts, and the flurry of loose surface-snow that flew in their wake hid
the sled as the train glided away to the far northeast.

Victor stood watching the receding figures till the hiss of the runners
died down in the distance, and the driving voice of Nick became lost in
the grey solitude. The northern trail held them and he felt safe. He
moved out upon the trampled snow, and, passing round to the back of the
store, disappeared within the pine wood which backed away up the slope
of the valley.

Later he came to where three huts were hidden away amongst the vast
tree-trunks. They were so placed, and so disguised, as to be almost
hidden until the wanderer chanced right upon them. These habitations
were a part of Victor's secret life. There was a strange mushroom look
about them; low walls of muck-daubed logs supported wide-stretching
roofs of reeds, which, in their turn, supported a thick covering of
soot-begrimed snow. He paused near by and uttered a low call, and
presently a tall girl emerged from one of the doors. She walked slowly
toward him with proud, erect carriage, while at her heels followed two
fierce husky dogs, moving with all the large dignity of honoured guards.
The woman was taller than the trader, and her beauty of figure was in no
wise hidden by the blanket clothing she wore. They talked earnestly
together for some time, and then, in answer to a further summons from
Victor, they were joined by a tall, gaunt man, with the solemn cast of
face of an Indian, and a pair of eyes as darkly brooding as those of a
moose. Although he was very dark-skinned he was plainly of