ored here
and there with fang marks, the gnawed ends of bones, and here and there
ravellings and tiny patches of vivid blue cloth. And as he fastened the
toboggan behind his own and swung the dogs onto the back-trail, he
paused once more and smiled grimly:

"He had always lived in the North," he said, "but he didn't know the
North. He ran like the coward he was from the red death when there was
no danger. And not only that, but he stole the food from a woman and a
sick baby. He thought he could get away with it--'way up here. But
there's something in the silent places that men don't understand--and
never will understand. I've heard men speak of it. And now I have seen
it--the working of the justice of the North!"

CHAPTER VII

AT FORT NORMAN

No trading post in all the North is more beautifully situated than Fort
Norman. The snug buildings of the Hudson's Bay Company and the Northern
Trading Company are located upon a high bank, at the foot of which the
mighty Mackenzie rushes northward to the frozen sea. On a clear day the
Rocky Mountains are plainly visible, and a half mile below the post,
Bear River, the swift running outlet to Great Bear Lake, flows into the
Mackenzie. It is to Fort Norman that the Indians from up and down the
great river, from the mountains to the westward, and from Great Bear
Lake, and a thousand other lakes and rivers, named and unnamed, to the
eastward, come each year to trade their furs. And it was there that
Connie Morgan and 'Merican Joe arrived just thirty-seven days after they
pulled out of Dawson.

Except at the time of the holiday trading, winter visitors are few at
the isolated post, and the two were heartily welcomed by the agents of
the rival trading companies, and by the two priests of the little Roman
Catholic Mission.

Connie learned from the representatives of both companies that from all
indications fur would be plentiful that year, but both expressed doubt
that Fort Norman would get its share of the trading.

"It's this way," explained McTavish, a huge, bearded Scot, as they sat
about the fur trader's roaring stove upon the evening of their arrival.
"The mountain Indians--the moose eaters, from the westward--are trading
on the Yukon. They claim they get better prices over there an' maybe
they do. The Yukon traders get the goods into the country cheaper, an'
they could sell them cheaper, an' I ain't blamin' the Indians for
tradin' where they can do best. But, now