once again, so we put into the bank. And that winter was a hard winter.
The darkness and the cold drew down upon us, and with them the famine. To
each man the agent of the Company gave forty pounds of flour and twenty
of bacon. There were no beans. And, the dogs howled always, and there
were flat bellies and deep-lined faces, and strong men became weak, and
weak men died. There was also much scurvy.

"Then came we together in the store one night, and the empty shelves made
us feel our own emptiness the more. We talked low, by the light of the
fire, for the candles had been set aside for those who might yet gasp in
the spring. Discussion was held, and it was said that a man must go
forth to the Salt Water and tell to the world our misery. At this all
eyes turned to me, for it was understood that I was a great traveler. 'It
is seven hundred miles,' said I, 'to Haines Mission by the sea, and every
inch of it snowshoe work. Give me the pick of your dogs and the best of
your grub, and I will go. And with me shall go Passuk.'

"To this they were agreed. But there arose one, Long Jeff, a Yankee-man,
big-boned and big-muscled. Also his talk was big. He, too, was a mighty
traveler, he said, born to the snowshoe and bred up on buffalo milk. He
would go with me, in case I fell by the trail, that he might carry the
word on to the Mission. I was young, and I knew not Yankee-men. How was
I to know that big talk betokened the streak of fat, or that Yankee-men
who did great things kept their teeth together? So we took the pick of
the dogs and the best of the grub, and struck the trail, we
three,--Passuk, Long Jeff, and I.

"Well, ye have broken virgin snow, labored at the gee-pole, and are not
unused to the packed river-jams; so I will talk little of the toil, save
that on some days we made ten miles, and on others thirty, but more often