ose it was a pretty rough journey.
Certainly we all got awfully tired. We are thin as snakes,
all four of us.

"There is an Indian village below here, and a government
school for Indian boys, besides the Anglican mission-house
and church. It certainly does seem more civilized. This is
our own country.

"And this is the Yukon that runs between the banks here--our
own old Yukon! I love it better than the Mackenzie. For a
while at least we will be under our flag, and not any other.
All tired. Next we'd better go to bed. However, made camp
near a road-house, almost a mile from the Indian village.
Some whites live here who seem tough and noisy. Some liquor
here with them, for they seem to be shouting and singing.

"Although we have been on American soil or American water
since we left Rampart House on the Porcupine, this seems to
us like the first time we have really been in our own
country. Good night! Wish we were all home at Valdez with
our people."

XIV

AT FORT YUKON

It was a ragged and dirty party of travelers, to be sure, who lay
in the litter of the dooryard of the road-house, wrapped in their
blankets, and sleeping late in spite of the warm morning sun which
shone into their faces. They were exhausted by the long, trying, and
hard work of their dangerous journey, and, once they felt safe, had
fallen into the half-stupor which follows such fatigue. Therefore
they did not at first know of the presence of the dignified and
well-dressed man who stood hanging over the gate of the road-house,
looking at the sleepers as they lay in the yard, rolled up in their
blankets. Uncle Dick, always alert, was first awake, and sat up in his
blankets.

"Good morning, sir," said he to the stranger.

"Good morning, sir," replied the other, in turn. "Excuse me, but I've
been asked to look for the party of Mr. Richard McIntyre, himself and
three young boys, who are reported to be lost somewhere between here
and the mouth of the Mackenzie River. The relatives have sent in word
by cable, and naturally it has come into my hands."

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Uncle Dick, sitting still, half-clad in
his blankets, "but, although you may not suppose it, I am Mr.
McIntyre, and these are the young men referred to, no doubt. You have
word from outside?"

"From Mrs. Vernon Wilcox, of Valdez, and from Mrs. Henry D. Hardy, of
the same