The White Wolf of tbe North 361 



woman's smile. I have been "butchered to make 

 a Roman holiday " on sliding seat, steel blades, 

 spiked shoon, and other modern refinements, while 

 shrill voices rang and dainty thumbs turned down 

 (they all despise a loser!); I have been guilty of 

 that crime of errors, getting into the " gym " arena 

 with the wrong man, but of all the bucketings ever 

 I got, Jo gave me the worst ! Peace to his ashes 

 he was a scared Indian and he had no better 

 sense! 



Only those who have chased a smoke-tanned fire- 

 water worshipper on snow-shoes, and about two 

 jumps ahead of a blizzard, can understand. I knew 

 that he knew the trail, and I vowed that if he lost 

 me, it was my fault. All I could see was his dim 

 back rising and falling in mighty effort then we 

 ran for it in dead earnest. No picking the way 

 no anything but chase chase chase. He never 

 hesitated nor slackened, and all the while the snow 

 thickened and the wind shouted louder and louder 

 at the death song. At last, with a roar and a wild 

 horizontal rush of snow, the full strength of the 

 storm struck us. Then we heard the true howl of 

 the White Wolf of the North, as the men in igloos 

 hear it when the sea solidifies. Mercifully it was at 

 our backs, any other point would have meant 

 but there's cold comfort in that! I knew that if 

 Jo once got out of sight, I might not be found till 

 spring; and winters are long on the North Shore- 

 Besides, I had things to attend to later, my people 

 to see, and my ptarmigan to mount, so I chased 

 on. And ever before me was the snowy back, ever in 

 my ears the White Wolf's howl, and in my breast 



