He roas' on high,
Jes' under ze sky,
He ready now to come 'n' eat!"

With yells that rose above the last words of the song, Mukee and his
Crees tugged at their poles, and the roasted caribou fell upon the
snow. Jan drew back, and with his violin hugged under one arm, watched
the wild revelers as, with bared knives flashing in the firelight,
they crowded to the feast. Williams, the factor, who was puffing from
his vocal exertions, joined him.

"Looks like a fight, doesn't it, Jan? Once I saw a fight at a caribou
roast."

"So did I," said Jan, who had not taken his eyes from the jostling
crowd.

"It was far to the west and north," continued Williams; "beyond the
Great Slave country."

"Far beyond," said Jan, lifting his eyes quietly. "It was ver' near to
ze Great Bear."

The factor stared at him in amazement.

"You saw it?" he exclaimed.

But Jan turned away, as if he had heard nothing, and passed beyond the
packs of waiting dogs to restore his precious violin to its peg on the
cabin wall. The factor's words had stirred deep memories within him,