Krag:, the Kootenay Ram 



me half luny. He's sucking my life out now. 

 But he ain't through with me yet. Thar's more 

 o' him round than that head. I tell ye, when 

 that old Chinook comes a-blowin' up the Ter- 

 bak-ker Crik, I've heared noises that the wind 

 don't make. I've heared him just the same as I 

 done that day when he blowed his life out 

 through his nose, an' me a-layin' on my face 

 afore him. I'm up ag'in' it, an' I'm a-goin' to 

 face it out — right — here— on — Ter-bak-ker — 

 Crik." 



The White Wind rose high that night, and 

 hissed and wailed about Scotty's shanty. Ordi- 

 narily the stranger might not have noticed it; 

 but once or twice there came in over the door 

 a long snoof that jarred the latch and rustled vio- 

 lently the drapery of the head. Scotty glanced 

 at his friend with a wild, scared look. No 

 need for a word ; the stranger's face was white. 



In the morning it was snowing, but the 

 stranger went his way. All that day the White 

 Wind blew, and the snow came down harder 

 and harder. Deeper and deeper it piled on 

 everything. All the smaller peaks were rounded 

 off with snow, and all the hollows of the higher 



IOI 



