that night on Kon Klayu. Jean had never admired her
sister more than when she saw Ellen rise above the haunting fear of
starvation and with the few pitiful things at her command create the
cheer of Christmas Eve. And there was no lack of presents--home-made
gifts that had cost their donors much thought and hours of
labor--gifts, some of them smile-provoking, but bringing with them a
sense of warmer friendliness, a touch of tenderness which enhances the
spirit of fellowship that comes to those who share the hazards and
adventures of the North.

Loll, with one lump of hoarded sugar, two full-rigged schooners, an
Indian war canoe and a new blouse sewed by Ellen's fingers, was
supremely happy. For the men were mittens made of a blanket, scarves
knitted from the unraveled yarn of two old sweaters, and--even on Kon
Klayu the male members could not escape the inevitable Christmas
neck-tie, for Ellen had produced from the bottom of her trunk three
brand new ones purchased for Shane before she sailed from the States.

Kayak Bill looked his over a few minutes and then disappeared behind
his tarpaulin-screen in the next room. When he emerged it was with one
hand holding aside his bushy beard. The new neck-tie, impaled with a
large nugget pin, hung low on his blue flannel shirt.

"I ain't wore one o' these dude halters for ten yars, Lady," he
drawled, hitching his shoulders with an air of being pleased with
himself, "but I ain't forgot how they goes."

There were two beautiful caps for Ellen and Jean made of the iridescent
necks of mallard drakes, carefully prepared and sewed by Kayak; a
dust-pan made of a kerosene can; a calendar ruled off on the letter
paper of the defunct life insurance company, and to their genuine
delight, two paper knives carved from the tusks taken from the sea
monster's head which Lollie had discovered. Adorned with the
emblematic figures of the Thunderbird and the Wolf they were, in their
way, works of art, and Ellen, reading the penciled greeting on the
paper attached to her gift, could not keep the look of surprise from
her face as she thanked Harlan for it. It occurred to her that this
young man was continually and agreeably surprising her lately.

After the distribution of the gifts, and the old-time stories told in
the candlelight, Jean, by the magic of her violin coaxed them all into
singing the Yuletide songs fraught with memories of the homeland;--all
that is with the exception of Kayak