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188 forty-foot scows, dark and heavy, with willow rickers and tarpaulins rigged over the sterns of a few. All was movement and chuckling laughter and sudden calls and shouts as the trackers got themselves into the harness with light-hearted horse-play; and the wiry, springy strength of the North was in their muscles, even as its keen power was in their eyes. Lowndes spoke at Jennifer's side.

"This leading scow is yours, Mrs. Ducane. Heriot thought you'd like the rickers there as it's such a hot evening. Yes—say good-bye to her, mother. It's time they were off. Let me help you up the plank, Mrs. Ducane. That's right. Drop over. Jack, you young sinner. Wait till I come for you."

With Mrs. Lowndes' warm kiss on her lips Jennifer dropped inside the tall sturgeon-head which was to be her home for so long, and felt her feet on a grey yielding floor of fur-bales. The scow smelt and whispered of strange things; of loneliness, and of the cries of little animals that had died, and of the men who did these cruel things and did not care. Then Jack slid down beside her with a crow of delight, and immediately scrambled up again to shout her good-byes. Lowndes' bearded face showed over the edge.

"Comfortable down there?" he asked cheerily. "That's right. Eusta will make up your beds in five minutes. Who's steering this scow? You, Ooti? Good. Take care of my kiddie. Tell her keyam upe if she climbs around too much."

The big breed showed white teeth as he stepped on the hinder decking and leaned to the sweep, tall and finely poised as a statue. And then the long scow surged forward with a groan and a spewing-up of sand and water; the talk and laughter died; the group of figures on the strip of beach slid behind, and Jack began to sniff ominously. Jennifer stooped to give comfort. And when she looked again the fires from a big Indian camp cast a red glow along the beach, and, black and strong across the face of it, swung the trackers; leaning deeply in the traces; swaying bodies and loose arms; the nine keeping step as one and passing out of the light to give place to the nine of the scow behind. As she looked a man raised the chant.