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the water clear as glass, whin suddin, belike a cloud over the sun, the mushy-ice comes bubblinā€™ up anā€™ up till from bank to bank anā€™ bind to bind itā€™s drapinā€™ the river like a first snowfall?ā€

ā€œUnh, hunh! moreā€™n once when I took a doze at the steering-oar. But it allus come out the nighest side-channel, anā€™ not bubblinā€™ up anā€™ up.ā€

ā€œBut with niver a wink at the helm?ā€

ā€œNo; nor you. Itā€™s agin reason. Iā€™ll leave it to any man!ā€

Bettles appealed to the circle about the stove, but the fight was on between himself and Lon McFane.

ā€œReason or no reason, itā€™s the truth Iā€™m tellinā€™ ye. Last fall, a year gone, ā€™twas Sitka Charley and meself saw the sight, droppinā€™ down the riffle yeā€™ll remember below Fort Reliance. Anā€™ regular fall weather it wasā ā€”the glint oā€™ the sun on the golden larch anā€™ the quakinā€™ aspens; anā€™ the glister of light on ivery ripple; anā€™ beyand, the winter anā€™ the blue haze of the North cominā€™ down hand in hand. Itā€™s well ye know the same, with a fringe to the river anā€™ the ice forminā€™ thick in the eddiesā ā€”anā€™ a snap anā€™ sparkle to the air, anā€™ ye a-feelinā€™ it through all yer blood, a-takinā€™ new lease of life with ivery suck of it. ā€™Tis then, me boy, the world grows small anā€™ the wandtherlust lays ye by the heels.

ā€œBut itā€™s meself as wandthers. As I was sayinā€™, we a-paddlinā€™, with niver a sign of ice, barrinā€™ that by the eddies, when the Injun lifts his paddle anā€™ sings out, ā€˜Lon McFane! Look ye below! So have I heard, but niver thought to see!ā€™ As ye know, Sitka Charley, like meself, niver drew first breath in the land; so the sight was new. Then we drifted, with a head over ayther side, peerinā€™ down through the sparkly water. For the world like the days I spint with the pearlers, watchinā€™ the coral banks a-growinā€™ the same as so many gardens under the sea. There it was, the anchor-ice, clinginā€™ anā€™ clusterinā€™ to ivery rock, after the manner of the white coral.

ā€œBut the best of the sight was to come. Just after clearinā€™ the tail of the riffle, the water turns quick the color of milk, anā€™ the top of it in wee circles, as when the graylinā€™ rise in the spring, or thereā€™s a splatter of wet from the sky. ā€™Twas the anchor-ice cominā€™ up. To the right, to the lift, as far as iver a man cud see, the water was covered with the same. Anā€™ like so much porridge it was, slickinā€™ along the bark of the canoe, stickinā€™ like glue to the paddles. Itā€™s manyā€™s the time I shot the selfsame riffle before, and itā€™s manyā€™s the time after, but niver a wink of the same have I seen. ā€™Twas the sight of a lifetime.ā€

ā€œDo tell!ā€ dryly commented Bettles. ā€œDā€™ye think Iā€™d bā€™lieve such a yarn? Iā€™d ruther say the glister of lightā€™d gone to your eyes, and the snap of the air to your tongue.ā€

ā€œā€Šā€™Twas me own eyes that beheld it, anā€™ if Sitka Charley was here, heā€™d be the lad to back me.ā€

ā€œBut facts is facts, anā€™ they ainā€™t no gettinā€™ round ā€™em. It ainā€™t in the nature of things for the water furtherest away from the air to freeze first.ā€

ā€œBut me own eyesā ā€”ā€

ā€œDonā€™t git het up over it,ā€ admonished Bettles, as the quick Celtic anger began to mount.

ā€œThen yer not after belavinā€™ me?ā€

ā€œSence youā€™re so blamed forehanded about it, no; Iā€™d bā€™lieve nature first, and facts.ā€

ā€œIs it the lie yeā€™d be givinā€™ me?ā€ threatened Lon. ā€œYeā€™d better be askinā€™ that Siwash wife of yours. Iā€™ll lave it to her, for the truth I spake.ā€

Bettles flared up in sudden wrath. The Irishman had unwittingly wounded him; for his wife was the half-breed daughter of a Russian fur-trader, married to him in the Greek Mission of Nulato, a thousand miles or so down the Yukon, thus being of much higher caste than the common Siwash, or native, wife. It was a mere Northland nuance, which none but the Northland adventurer may understand.

ā€œI reckon you kin take it that way,ā€ was his deliberate affirmation.

The next instant Lon McFane had stretched him on the floor, the circle was broken up, and half a dozen men had stepped between.

Bettles came to his feet, wiping the blood from his mouth. ā€œIt hainā€™t new, this takinā€™ and payinā€™ of blows, and donā€™t you never think but that this will be squared.ā€

ā€œAnā€™ niver in me life did I take the lie from mortal man,ā€ was the retort courteous. ā€œAnā€™ itā€™s an avil day Iā€™ll not be to hand, waitinā€™ anā€™ willinā€™ to help ye lift yer debts, barrinā€™ no manner of way.ā€

ā€œStill got that 38ā ā€“ā 55?ā€

Lon nodded.

ā€œBut youā€™d better git a more likely caliber. Mineā€™ll rip holes through you the size of walnuts.ā€

ā€œNiver fear; itā€™s me own slugs smell their way with soft noses, anā€™ theyā€™ll spread like flapjacks against the coming out beyand. Anā€™ whenā€™ll I have the pleasure of waitinā€™ on ye? The waterholeā€™s a strikinā€™ locality.ā€

ā€œā€Šā€™T ainā€™t bad. Jest be there in an hour, and you wonā€™t set long on my coming.ā€

Both men mittened and left the Post, their ears closed to the remonstrances of their comrades. It was such a little thing; yet with such men, little things, nourished by quick tempers and stubborn natures, soon blossomed into big things. Besides, the art of burning to bedrock still lay in the womb of the future, and the men of Forty-Mile, shut in by the long Arctic winter, grew high-stomached with overeating and enforced idleness, and became as irritable as do the bees in the fall of the year when the hives are overstocked with honey.

There was no law in the land. The mounted police was also a thing of the future. Each man measured an offense, and meted out the punishment inasmuch as it affected himself. Rarely had combined action been necessary, and never in all the dreary

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