20 THE GREY STIKINE

the purposeful Chinaman went by with his bundle
of washing, and a group of half-breed youths and
girls loitered at the door of the Jap’s “hotel.”

In fact, all went on much as usual on Christmas
Eve until the dogs began to show signs of uneasi-
ness. The canine quarter at the east end gave the
first signals of unrest. Dogs stood on their kennels
and clanked their chains, eagerly sniffing the air.
Over the bank by the river-edge there were sundry
yappings and short howls, and answering howls
came from the direction of the Indian hovels.
Before long the valley re-echoed with the barking
of a hundred powerful throats.

The human inhabitants were not long in catching
the fever of unrest. The mail! It must be the mail!
Good chap, he did it after all! Come on!

Shortly after three o’clock, as the light was fail-
ing, a string of ten dogs swung through the cleft
in the wall. Down the slope they charged, heads
low and tails curled high over their backs. Behind
them swayed a heavy sleigh, and on the back of the
sleigh clung a man. The snow spurted up and out-
ward as the unavailing brake dug deep into the
trail. The lead-dog made for the curve at the
bottom, took it with a vicious swing and slowed
down to a trot as the traces tightened. His ears were
full of the uproarious greeting of his mates, and his