he went more freely among them, and made friends.




CHAPTER VII

THE CARIBOU CARNIVAL


Jan had not played upon his violin since the coming of Jean de
Gravois; but one evening he tuned his strings, and said to Melisse:

"They have been good to you, my Melisse. I will give them ze museek of
ze violon."

It was the big night at the post--the night that is known from
Athabasca to Hudson's Bay as the night of the caribou roast. A week
had passed, and there were no more furs to be disposed of. In the
company's ledger each man had received his credit, and in the
company's store the furs were piled high and safe. Three caribou had
been killed by Per-ee and his hunters; and on this night, when Jan
took down his violin from its peg on the wall, a huge fire blazed in
the open, and on spits six inches in diameter the caribou were
roasting.

The air was filled with the sound and odor of the carnival. Above the
fighting and snarling of dogs, the forest people lifted their voices
in wild celebration, forgetting, in this one holiday of the year, the
silence that they would carry back into the solitudes with them.