ned
towards the gray shadows eastward. He was gazing out towards that far
distant region of the Mackenzie River which flowed northwards to empty
itself into the ice-bound Arctic Ocean. But he was not thinking of the
river.

Jessie was relieved at her escape from his masterful gaze. But she was
glad of his confidence and unquestioned strength. It helped her when
she needed help, and some of her shadows had been dispelled.

"I s'pose it's as you say," she returned without enthusiasm. "If my
daddy's safe that's all I care. Mother's good. I just love her.
And--Alec, he's a good boy. I love my mother and my brother. But
neither of them could ever replace my daddy. Yes, I'll be glad for him
to get back. Oh, so glad. When--when d'you think that'll be?"

"When his work's through."

"I must be patient. Say, I wish I'd got nerve."

The man laughed pleasantly.

"Guess what a girl needs is for her men-folk to have nerve," he said.
"I don't know 'bout your brother Alec, but your father--well, he's got
it all."

The girl's eyes lit.

"Yes," she said simply. Then, with a glance westwards at the dying
daylight, she went on: "We best get down to the Mission. Supper'll be
waiting."

Murray nodded.

"Sure. We'll get right along."

CHAPTER II

THE MISSION OF ST. AGATHA

A haunting silence prevails in the land beyond the barrier of the Yukon
watershed. It is a world apart, beyond, and the other land, the land
where the battle of civilization still fluctuates, still sways under
the violent passions of men, remains outside.

Its fascination is beyond all explanation. Yet it is as great as its
conditions are merciless. Murray McTavish had sought the explanation,
and found it in the fact that it was a land in which man could make his
own laws and break them at his pleasure. Was this really its
fascination? Hardly. The explanation must surely lie in something
deeper. Surely the primitive in man, which no civilization can
out-breed, would be the better answer.

In Allan Mowbray's case this was definitely so. Murray McTavish had
served his full apprenticeship where the laws of civilization prevail.
His judgment could scarcely be accepted in a land where only the strong
may survive.

The difference between the two men was as wide as the countries which
had bred them, and furthermore Allan had survived on the banks of the
Snake River for upwards of twenty-five years. For twenty-five years he
had