It seemed that we might be able to go
on thus for ever, lapped in the dream of some forgotten magic that had
stricken breathless the life of the world. And then, suddenly, three
weeks on our journey, we came to a town.
It was not the typical fur town of the Far North, but it lay at the
threshold. A single street, worn smooth by the feet of men and dogs,
but innocent of hoofs, fronted the channel. A board walk, elevated
against the snows, bordered a row of whitewashed log and frame houses,
each with its garden of brilliant flowers. A dozen wharves of various
sizes, over whose edges peeped the double masts of Mackinaw boats,
spoke of a fishing community. Between the roofs one caught glimpses of
a low sparse woods and some thousand-foot hills beyond. We subsequently
added the charm of isolation in learning that the nearest telegraph
line was fifteen miles distant, while the railroad passed some fifty
miles away.
Dick immediately went wild. It was his first glimpse of the mixed
peoples. A dozen loungers, handsome, careless, graceful with the
inimitable elegance of the half-breed's leisure, chatted, rolled
cigarettes, and surveyed with heavy-eyed indolence such of the town as
could be viewed from the shade in which they lay. Three girls, in whose
dark cheeks glowed a rich French comeliness, were comparing purchases
near the store. A group of rivermen, spike-booted, short-trousered,
reckless of air, with their little round hats over one ear, sat
chair-tilted outside the "hotel.
Pages:
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76