Agana, BG Site AGAIN) 89

“Yes, what about it? By the time I pay off my
jawbone I won’t have enough left for tobacco!”

“Me too. The blasted skins isn’t worth carryin’
a hundred miles for a price like that. Two seasons
ago they’d ’ve fetched thirty-five easy.”

Thomas came out, blinking, and sat down at the
end of the row.

“T’ve got some new rec’ds since last year, boys.
Want to hear ’em?”

We all went into the cabin. Before long, Harry
Lauder’s voice was proclaiming to the high, grassy
bench and the wide sweep of the Liard River how
deeply he appreciated having his breakfast in his
bed on Sunday morrrnin’. He was heard in com-
plete silence. One man lay stretched upon the floor
with his hands behind his head. Another rocked
himself gently back and forth upon a box in the
corner, rolling a cigarette. The rest of us gazed out
through the doorway and over the bank toward the
wooded slopes that rolled into the distance.

“Put on a dance tune, eh2”

The blaring of brass and saxophones followed
Harry Lauder’s voice out of the cabin and along the
sunlit bench. The dreamer on the floor jumped up
and capered about the cabin. An Indian child came
running to the door, stopped dead, stared at us and
then began to pound the floor rhythmically with his