his knowledge of the wilds to profitable account, unless he turns
smuggler, whiskey-runner, or fur-poisoner. The men know this.
Therefore, when an officer whose patrol takes him into the far 'back
blocks' is approached by a man like MacNair, with his pockets bulging
with gold, what report goes down to Regina, and on to Ottawa?

"Yes, Miss Elliston, in the Northland there is law. But the law is a
fundamental law--the primitive law of savage might. The strong devour
the weak. Only the fit survive--survive to be ruled, to be trampled, to
be _owned_ by the strongest. And the law is the measure of might!
Primal instincts--pristine passions--primordial brutishness permeate the
whole North--rule it.

"The wolf and savage _carcajo_ drag down the hunger-weakened caribou and
the deer, and rip the warm, red flesh from their bones before their eyes
have glazed. And, in turn, the wolf and the _carcajo_, the unoffending
beaver and musquash, the mink, the fisher, the fox, and the otter are
trapped by savage man and the pelts ripped from their twitching bodies
while life and sensibility remain. They are harder to skin when cold.
And with the thermometer at forty or sixty below zero, the little bodies
chill almost instantly if mercifully killed--therefore, they are not
killed, but flayed alive and their bleeding bodies tossed upon the snow.
They die quickly--then. But--they have lived through the skinning! And
that is the North!"

Chloe Elliston shuddered and drew away in horror. "Is--is this
possible?" she faltered. "Do they----"

"They do. The fur business is not a pretty business, Miss Elliston. But
neither is the North pretty--nor are its inhabitants. But the traffic in