two yells
that came from Slim Buck, Yellow Bird's husband and chief of the tribe,
after he had greeted Jolly Roger McKay. It was a note harking back to
the old war trails of the Crees, and what followed it that night was
most exciting to Peter. Big fires were built of white driftwood, and
there was singing and dancing, and a great deal of laughter and eating,
and the interminable howling of half a hundred Siwash dogs. Peter did
not like the dogs, but he did no fighting because his love for Sun Cloud
kept him close to the touch of her little brown hand.

That night, in the glow of the big fire outside of Slim Buck's tepee,
Jolly Roger's heart thrilled with a pleasure which it had not known for
a long time. He loved to look at Yellow Bird. Five years had not changed
her. Her eyes were starry bright. Her teeth were like milk. The color
still came and went in her brown cheeks, even as it did in Sun Cloud's.
All of which, in this heart of a wilderness, meant that she had been
happy and prosperous. And he also loved to look at Sun Cloud, who
possessed all of that rare wildflower beauty sometimes given to the
northern Crees. And it did him good to look at Slim Buck. He was
a splendid mate, and a royal father, and Jolly Roger found himself
strangely happy in their happiness. In the eyes of men and women and
little children he saw that happiness all about him. For three winters
there had been splendid trapping, Slim Buck told him, and this season
they had caught and dried enough fish to carry them through the
following winter, even if black days should come. His people were rich.
They had many warm blankets, and good clothes, and the best of tepees
and guns and sledges, and several treasures besides. Two of these Yellow
Bird and her husband disclosed to Jolly Roger this first night. One of
them was a sewing machine, and the other--a phonograph! And Jolly Roger
listened to "Mother Machree" and "The Rosary" that night as he sat by
Wollaston Lake with six hundred miles of wilderness between him and
Cragg's Ridge.

Later, when the camp slept, Yellow Bird and Slim Buck and Jolly Roger
still sat beside the red embers of their fire, and Jolly Roger told
of what had happened down at the edge of civilization. It was what
his heart needed, and he left out none of the details. Slim Buck was
listening, but Jolly Roger knew he was talking straight at Yellow Bird,
and that her warm heart was full of understanding. Softly, in that
low Cree