168 THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS 



dancers to take their places on the floor. Hour after hour it 

 went on. After midnight another supper was served ; but still 

 "the band" — consisting of a violin and a concertina — played 

 on, and still the moccasined feet pounded the floor without 

 intermission. At the very height of the fun, when the Free 

 Trader's charming daughter was being whirled about by a 

 scarlet tunic, Mrs. Spear turned to me and beamed: 



"Doesn't Athabasca look radiantly beautiful.^" 



"Indeed she does!" I blushed. 



"And what a dehghtful party this is . . . but there's 

 just one thing lacking ... to make it perfect." 



"What's that? " I enquired. 



"A wedding . . . my dear." Then, after a long pause, 

 during which she seemed to be staring at me — but I didn't 

 dare look — she impatiently tossed her head and exclaimed: 



"My . . . but some men are deathly slow!" 



"Indeed they are," I agreed. 



About four o'clock in the morning the music died down, 

 then, after much hand-shaking, the company dispersed in 

 various directions over the moonht snow; some to their near-by 

 lodges, some to the log shacks in the now-deserted Indian 

 village, and others to their distant hunting grounds. It must 

 have been nearly five o'clock before the ladies in the Factor's 

 house went upstairs, and the men lay down upon caribou, 

 bear, and buffalo skins on the otherwise bare floor of the hving 

 room. It was late next morning when we arose, yet already 

 the pohcemen had vanished — they had again set out on their 

 long northern patrol. 



At breakfast Mr. and Mrs. Spear invited me to return and 

 spend the night with them, and as Oo-koo-hoo and his wife 

 wanted to remain a few days to visit some Indian friends, and 

 as the Factor had told me that the north-bound packet with 

 the winter's mail from the railroad was soon due; and as, 

 moreover, the Fur Brigade would be starting south in a few 



