hands, and the sound of chopping began to echo through the forest. On
every side big dry trees came crashing down. Then the huge "long
fires", driving darkness farther away, began to leap and roar. Then,
too, could be seen the building of stages on which to place the
valuable fur-laden sleds out of reach of the destructive dogs; the
gathering of evergreen brush; the unhitching of dogs and the hanging up
of their harness in the surrounding trees; the unloading of sleds; the
placing of frozen whitefish to thaw for the dogs; the baking of
bannocks, the frying of pork, and the infusing of tea. Then, in
silence, the men ate ravenously, while the hungry dogs watched them.

When pipes had been filled and lighted each driver took his allotment
of fish, called his dogs aside, and gave them a couple each. Some of
the brutes bolted their food in a few gulps and rushed to seize the
share of others, but a few blows from the drivers' whips drove them
back.

When the dogs had devoured their day's rations--for they are fed only
once every twenty-four hours--their masters sought out sheltered spots
for them and cut a few branches of brush for their beds. Some of the
men cooked a supply of bannock to be eaten the following day. Others
hung their moccasins, mittens, and leggings on little sticks before the
fires to dry. It was an animated scene. The "long fires" were huge
structures, twelve or fifteen feet in length, so that each man might
bask in the heat without crowding his neighbour. A number stood with
their back to the blaze while the rest sat or lounged on their blankets
and, puffing away at their pipes, joined in the conversation that
before long became general.

Just then the dogs began to blow and then to growl, as a strange Indian