or he had
been watching closely for this moment. He bent over the sledge and
began talking, not in Le Beau's brutal way, but in a careless chummy
sort of voice, and with his mittened hand he patted his captive's head.
This was a new thing to Miki, for he knew that it was not the hand of
Nanette, but of a man-beast, and the softness of his nest in the
blanket, over which Henri had thrown a bear skin, was also new. A short
time ago he was frozen and stiff. Now he was warm and comfortable. So
he did not move. And Durant exulted in his cleverness. He did not
travel far in the night, but stopped four or five miles from Nanette's
cabin, and built a fire. Over this he boiled coffee and roasted meat.
He allowed the meat to roast slowly, turning it round and round on a
wooden spit, so that the aroma of it grew thick and inviting in the
air. He had fastened his two sledge dogs fifty paces away, but the
sledge was close to the fire, and he watched the effect on Miki of the
roasting meat. Since the days of his puppyhood with Challoner a smell
like that which came from the meat had not filled Miki's nostrils, and
at last Durant saw him lick his chops and heard the click of his teeth.
He chuckled in his beard. Still he waited another quarter of an hour.
Then he pulled the meat off the spit, cut it up, and gave a half of it
to Miki. And Miki ate it ravenously.

A clever man was Henri Durant!

CHAPTER NINETEEN

During the last few days in December all trails for ten thousand square
miles around led to Post Fort 0' God. It was the eve of OOSKE
PIPOON--of the New Year--the mid-winter carnival time of the people of
the wilderness, when from teepees and cabins far and near come the
trappers and their families to sell their furs and celebrate for a few
days with others of their kind. To this New Year gathering men, women,
and children look forward through long and weary months. The trapper's
wife has no neighbour. Her husband's "line" is a little kingdom
inviolate, with no other human life within many miles of it; so for the
women the OOSKE PIPOON is a time of rejoicing; for the children it is
the "big circus," and for the men a reward for the labour and hardship
of catching their fur. During these few days old acquaintanceships are
renewed and new ones are made. It is here that the "news" of the
trackless wilderness is spread, the news of deaths, of marriages, and
of births; of tragic happenings that bring horror and grief and t