they would hang me because I killed Pollak. But I do not tell
Murchison things that I know. If you do not tell him I killed Pollak,
he will not send me back to get hung."

XVI

When John McNabb read Wentworth's report, he reached for his telephone
and called Detroit. "That you, Beekman?" he asked, recognizing the
voice of the senior partner of one of the foremost engineering firms in
the country. "How about you--all set for that Gods Lake job? Just got
the preliminary report. Everything O. K. Plenty of water, plenty of
head, and we can get it without spreading the reservoir over the whole
country. Hustle that road through as fast as you can. Hundred miles
of it--only about eight or ten miles of swamp. We can truck the
material in quicker than by shipping it clear around through the Bay
and track-lining it up the river. Few small bridges, and one motor
ferry. Make it good for heavy work. Put on men enough to complete the
road in a month at the outside. Most if it will only be clearing out
timber and stumps. As soon as the road is done we'll begin to shoot in
the cement. Get at it on the jump now, an' I'll see you in a day or
two."

The days following the return of Wentworth and Hedin from the survey of
the rapids were busy ones at the little post on Gods Lake. For it was
the time of the spring trading, and from far and near came the men of
the outlands, bringing in their harvest of fur.

The post flag floated gaily at the staff head, and in the broad
clearing about its base were pitched the tepees of the fur bringers.

Each rising sun brought additional wilderness gleaners from afar, and
additional children, and many additional starving dogs. For these days
were the gala days of the Northland; days of high feast and plenty, of
boastings, and recountings, and the chanting of weird chants.

The crudity, the primitive savagery of the scene gripped Hedin as
nothing had gripped him before. He was astonished that the setting
held for him so little of surprise. He fitted into the life naturally
and perfectly as though to the manner born. But his own astonishment
was as nothing as compared to the astonishment of Murchison, who stood
close as Hedin broke open and sorted the packs of fur. Time and again
his swift appraisal of a skin won a nod of approval from the factor,
who received the skins from his hands and paid for them in tokens of
made beaver.

"I do not understand it," said Murchison, b