began to whittle at a small plug of
tobacco, and then deliberately filled an old blackened pipe before
replying.

"Sit down, Alec," he demanded at length. "Thar's somethin' on me mind
I want to tell ye. Ye've been a good friend to me, man, an' I kin
never fergit it. We've trod the trails together fer years, but I'm
a-thinkin' we'll do it no more."

"Tut, tut, mon, what's come owre ye? Haven't we fine prospects in
sight anent the summer?"

"Ay, ay, Alec, it's true what ye say. But haven't we allus had fine
prospects in sight? Tell me that. An' what have we got? I'll tell ye
what we've got. We've got old age pilin' a-top of us; we've got stiff
jints, an' rheumatiz a-plenty; an' we've got a cabin apiece. That's
what we've got, Alec, a-trailin' after this devil gold. We're gittin'
old, man, an' the things we should have we haven't got, I tell ye that
plain."

"Why, Pete, I thought ye liked the life, sae grand an' free, wi' the
great works o' Nature all around ye. Didn't ye often say ye could
never live in harness, but wanted the wild always fer yer hame?"

"Sure, man, I know I said it, but I've been a-thinkin' different of
late. Out in yon new region I've had strange thoughts, an' they
overcome me. Thinks I to meself, I'm an old man without a home, an' no
one to care for me whether I come or go. What's the use of me
a-rustlin' fer a home-stake when there's never a one to share it with
me? The wild life may be fine to read about in stories an' sich like,
an' the young chaps may like it, but I want a home now; I want some one
to care fer, an' to care fer me. What good is all the gold in the
warld, Alec, when ye haven't a wife or kiddies to brighten yer cabin?"

"Ye're owre late thinkin' aboot sic things," said Alec rather dryly,
puffing away at his pipe.

"I know it, man, I know it. But hearken. I've a son an' a daughter
now in me old age, an' though they're neither kith nor kin of mine,
they're very close to me, an' I love 'em. They've been good to me, an'
I want to be near 'em. They're now at Klassan, so that's why I'm
a-goin' thar."

"An' how lang will ye stay doon yon? Will ye no wark?"

"Make a livin', man? I'm not a-worrin' about that. All my life long
the good Lord has provided fer me better than I desarved, an' if He
cares fer the flowers an' the birds He'll not abandon an old man, never
ye fear that. But thar'll be wark, Alec, an' these rough hands'll not
be idle as long as life