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T was late May, and spring had at last come to the arctic lands of the Yukon. It was even more welcome because it had been so long in coming. But it did not come as gradually as it did in the southland, for here there were eighteen hours of sunlight to warm the heart of the old earth and again send the life-giving sap coursing on its way.

The mighty river had first felt the touch of spring at its very source. There are three rivers in the world whose courses seem contrary to all reason and to the laws of nature. Such are the Mackenzie, the Lena, and the Yukon.

In order to have the spring breaking-up go on as peacefully as possible a river should break up at the mouth, then the ice