waiting for the thaw, he goes out and shoots about ten thousand pounds of
moose. This he keeps on ice, too. Came the thaw. The Teelee broke. He
built a raft and loaded it with the meat, the big box with Dave inside,
and Dave's team of dogs, and away they went down the Teelee.

"The raft got caught on a timber jam and hung up two days. It was
scorching hot weather, and Mr. Indian nearly lost his moose meat. So
when he got to Teelee Portage he figured a steamboat would get to Forty
Mile quicker than his raft. He transferred his cargo, and there you are,
fore-lower deck of the _Golden Rocket_, Flush of Gold being married, and
Dave Walsh in his big box casting the shade for her. And there's one
thing I clean forgot. No wonder I thought the husky dog that came aboard
at Teelee Portage was familiar. It was Pee-lat, Dave Walsh's lead-dog
and favourite--a terrible fighter, too. He was lying down beside the
box.

"Flush of Gold caught sight of me, called me over, shook hands with me,
and introduced me to the Count. She was beautiful. I was as mad for her
then as ever. She smiled into my eyes and said I must sign as one of the
witnesses. And there was no refusing her. She was ever a child, cruel
as children are cruel. Also, she told me she was in possession of the
only two bottles of champagne in Dawson--or that had been in Dawson the
night before; and before I knew it I was scheduled to drink her and the
Count's health. Everybody crowded round, the captain of the steamboat,
very prominent, trying to ring in on the wine, I guess. It was a funny
wedding. On the upper deck the hospital wrecks, with various feet in the
grave, gathered and looked down to see. There were Indians all jammed in
the circle, too, big bucks, and their squaws and kids, to say nothing of
about twenty-five snarling wolf-dogs. The missionary lined the two of
them up and started in with the service. And just then a dog-fight