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