July 7th they slept a little later than
usual, although their total hours of rest were no more than two or
three. Uncle Dick was before them on the deck this time, and
reproached them very much when they appeared.

"Well, young men," said he, "did you feel any heavy jar, or hear a
dull, sickening thud, some time about half an hour or an hour ago?"

"You don't mean that we've passed the Circle, do you, Uncle Dick?"
queried John.

"We certainly have. I don't know just where it was. It's seven-thirty
o'clock now, and somewhere between here and Fort Good Hope we crossed
the Arctic Circle!"

"I can't believe it!" said Rob. "Why, look, the weather is perfectly
fine, and there isn't any ice to be seen. On the other hand, there are
plenty of mosquitoes. What's more, just back at Fort Good Hope we have
seen that they can raise things in their gardens. I would never have
believed these things about this northern country if I had not seen
them myself."

Through the soft, mild light of the sub-Arctic morning the great
steamboat churned on her north-bound way. At ten o'clock they passed
an Indian village which they were told was called Chicago--no doubt
named by some of the Klondikers who were practically cast away here
twenty years earlier. John put it down on his map under that name, as
indeed it is charted in all the authentic maps of that upper region.
They were told that a good number of Indians come here to make their
winter hunt.

An uneventful day, during which the boat logged a great many miles in
her steady progress, was passed, until at ten o'clock they tied up at
the next to the last of the Hudson's Bay posts on the Mackenzie River,
known as Arctic Red River, located at sixty-seven degrees and thirty
minutes north latitude.

"Oh, look, look, fellows!" exclaimed John, as they pulled into the
landing here. "Now we're beginning to get some real stuff! I feel as
though we were pretty near to the end of the world. Look yonder!"

He pointed to where, along the beach at the foot of the bluff, there
lay two encampments of natives.

"Look at the difference in the boats!" exclaimed John, running to the
side of the boat. "There are whale-boats with sails, something like
those we saw out on the Alaska coast. What are they, Uncle Dick?"

"Those are Eskimos, my young friend," said their leader, "and what you
see there are indeed whale-boats. The Huskies come up the river this
far to trade with the other Indians, and with