finestworkinthatlineIeverdidinmylife。Youshouldhaveseenthechase，downtheriverandacrosstheportage。’
’Butthesquaw？’askedLouisSavoy，thetallFrenchCanadian，becominginterested;forhehadheardofthiswilddeedwhenatFortyMiletheprecedingwinter。
ThenMalemuteKid，whowasabornraconteur，toldtheunvarnishedtaleoftheNorthlandLochinvar。MorethanoneroughadventureroftheNorthfelthisheartstringsdrawcloserandexperiencedvagueyearningsforthesunnierpasturesoftheSouthland，wherelifepromisedsomethingmorethanabarrenstrugglewithcoldanddeath。
’WestrucktheYukonjustbehindthefirsticerun，’heconcluded，’andthetribeonlyaquarterofanhourbehind。Butthatsavedus;
forthesecondrunbrokethejamaboveandshutthemout。WhentheyfinallygotintoNuklukyeto，thewholepostwasreadyforthem。Andastotheforgathering，askFatherRoubeauhere：heperformedtheceremony。’