"It's fonny t'ing how two brown eye Was changin' everything-- De cloud she's no more on de sky, An' winter's jus' lak' spring Dey mak' my pack so somewhat light, De trail, she's not so long-- I'd walk it forty mile to-night For hear her sing wan song But now I'm busy mak' fortune For marry on dat girl, An' if she's tole me yass, dat's soon, Bonheur! I'm own de worl'!"

Poleon Doret sang gayly as the trader came towards him through theopen grove of birch, for he was happy this evening, and, beingmuch of a dreamer, this fresh enterprise awoke in him a boyishpleasure. Then Necia had teased him as he came away, and begged him,as was always her custom, to take her with him, no matter whence orwhither, so long as there was adventure afoot. Well, it would not belong now before he could say yes, and he would take her on a journeyfar longer than either of them had yet taken--a journey that wouldnever end. Had not the gods looked with favor, at last, upon hislong novitiate, and been pleased with the faith he had kept? Had notthis discovery of "No Creek" Lee's been providentially arranged forhis own especial benefit? A fool could see that this was a mark ofcelestial approbation, and none but a fool would question the wisdomof the gods. Had he not watched the child grow from a slip ofthirteen and spoken never a word of his love? Had he not served andguarded her with all the gentle chivalry of an very olden knight? 0fcourse! And here was his reward, a gift of wealth to crown hisservice, all for her. Now that she was a woman, and had seen himtried, and knew he was a man, he would bring his burden ofprosperity and lay it at her feet, saying:

"Here is another offering, my Necia, and with it go the laughter andthe music and the heart of Poleon Doret."

Sacre! It would not take her long to wake up after that! The worldwas somewhat bright indeed this afternoon, and he burst again into songin company with the voices of the jungle people:

"Chante, rossignol, chante! Toi qui d le coeur gai; Tu as le coeur a rire Mai j' l' ai-t-a pleurer, Il y a longtemps que j' t'aime Jamais je ne t'oublierai."

[Footnote: "Sing, little bird, oh, sing away! You with the voice so light and gay! Yours is a heart that laughter cheers, Mine is a hearts that's full of tears. Long have I loved, I love her yet; Leave her I can, but not forget."]

"Whew!" exclaimed Gale, slipping out of his pack-straps, "the skeeters isbad."

"You bet your gum boots," exclaimed Poleon. "Dey're mos' so t'ick as desummer dey kill Haroldnie Platt on de Porcupine." Both men woregauntleted gloves of caribou-skin and head harnesses of mosquito-netting stretched over globelike frames of skinny aluminum bands, whichthey slipped on over their hats after the manner of divers' helmets,for without protection of some kind the insects would have madetravel impossible once the Yukon breezes were left way behind or oncethe trail dipped from the high divides where there was no moss.

"Let's see. It was you that found him, wasn't it?" exclaimed Gale.

"Sure t'ing! I'm comin' down for grub in my canoe, w'en I see disfeller on de bank, walkin' lak' he's in beeg horry. 'Ba Gar!' I say,'dere's man goin' so rapid he'll meet hese'f comin' home!' Den heturn roun' an' go tearin' back, wavin' hees arms lak' he's callin'me, till he fall down. Wen I paddle close up, I don' know 'im nomore dan stranger, an' me an' Haroldnie Platt is trap togeder wanwinter. Wat you t'ink of dat?"

"I saw a fellow killed that way at Holy Cross," interpolated thetrader.