Leclere grinned. Slackwater took a chew of tobacco, rove a running
noose, and proceeded leisurely to coil a few turns in his hand. He

paused once or twice to brush particularly offensive mosquitoes
from off his face. Everybody was brushing mosquitoes, except

Leclere, about whose head a small cloud was visible. Even Batard,
lying full-stretched on the ground with his fore paws rubbed the

pests away from eyes and mouth.
But while Slackwater waited for Batard to lift his head, a faint

call came from the quiet air, and a man was seen waving his arms
and running across the flat from Sunrise. It was the store-keeper.

"C-call 'er off, boys," he panted, as he came in among them.
"Little Sandy and Bernadotte's jes' got in," he explained with

returning breath. "Landed down below an' come up by the short cut.
Got the Beaver with 'm. Picked 'm up in his canoe, stuck in a back

channel, with a couple of bullet-holes in 'm. Other buck was Klok
Kutz, the one that knocked spots out of his squaw and dusted."

"Eh? W'at Ah say? Eh?" Leclere cried exultantly. "Dat de one fo'
sure! Ah know. Ah spik true."

"The thing to do is to teach these damned Siwashes a little
manners," spoke Webster Shaw. "They're getting fat and sassy, and

we'll have to bring them down a peg. Round in all the bucks and
string up the Beaver for an object lesson. That's the programme.

Come on and let's see what he's got to say for himself."
"Heh, M'sieu!" Leclere called, as the crowd began to melt away

through the twilight in the direction of Sunrise. "Ah lak ver'
moch to see de fon."

"Oh, we'll turn you loose when we come back," Webster Shaw shouted
over his shoulder. "In the meantimemeditate on your sins and the

ways of Providence. It will do you good, so be grateful."
As is the way with men who are accustomed to great hazards, whose

nerves are healthy and trained in patience, so it was with Leclere
who settled himself to the long wait--which is to say that he

reconciled his mind to it. There was no settling of the body, for
the taut rope forced him to stand rigidly erect. The least

relaxation of the leg muscles pressed the rough-fibred noose into
his neck, while the upright position caused him much pain in his

wounded shoulder. He projected his under lip and expelled his
breathupwards along his face to blow the mosquitoes away from his

eyes. But the situation had its compensation. To be snatched from
the maw of death was well worth a little bodilysuffering, only it

was unfortunate that he should miss the hanging of the Beaver.
And so he mused, till his eyes chanced to fall upon Batard, head

between fore paws and stretched on the ground asleep. And their
Leclere ceased to muse. He studied the animal closely, striving to

sense if the sleep were real or feigned. Batard's sides were
heaving regularly, but Leclere felt that the breath came and went a

shade too quickly; also he felt that there was a vigilance or
alertness to every hair that belied unshackling sleep. He would

have given his Sunrise claim to be assured that the dog was not
awake, and once, when one of his joints cracked, he looked quickly

and guiltily at Batard to see if he roused. He did not rouse then
but a few minutes later he got up slowly and lazily, stretched, and

looked carefully about him.
"Sacredam," said Leclere under his breath.

Assured that no one was in sight or hearing, Batard sat down,
curled his upper lip almost into a smile, looked up at Leclere, and

licked his chops.
"Ah see my feenish," the man said, and laughed sardonically aloud.

Batard came nearer, the useless ear wabbling, the good ear cocked
forward with devilishcomprehension. He thrust his head on one

side quizzically, and advanced with mincing, playful steps. He
rubbed his body gently against the box till it shook and shook

again. Leclere teetered carefully to maintain his equilibrium.
"Batard," he said calmly, "look out. Ah keel you."

Batard snarled at the word and shook the box with greater force.
Then he upreared, and with his fore paws threw his weight against

it higher up. Leclere kicked out with one foot, but the rope bit
into his neck and checked so abruptly as nearly to overbalance him.

"Hi, ya! Chook! Mush-on!" he screamed.
Batard retreated, for twenty feet or so, with a fiendish levity in

his bearing that Leclere could not mistake. He remembered the dog
often breaking the scum of ice on the water hole by lifting up and

throwing his weight upon it; and remembering, he understood what he
now had in mind. Batard faced about and paused. He showed his

white teeth in a grin, which Leclere answered; and then hurled his
body through the air, in full charge, straight for the box.

Fifteen minutes later, Slackwater Charley and Webster Shaw
returning, caught a glimpse of a ghostlypendulum swinging back and

forth in the dim light. As they hurriedly drew in closer, they
made out the man's inert body, and a live thing that clung to it,

and shook and worried, and gave to it the swaying motion.
"Hi, ya! Chook! you Spawn of Hell!" yelled Webster Shaw.

But Batard glared at him, and snarled threateningly, without
loosing his jaws.

Slackwater Charley got out his revolver, but his hand was shaking,
as with a chill, and he fumbled.

"Here you take it," he said, passing the weapon over.
Webster Shaw laughed shortly, drew a sight between the gleaming

eyes, and pressed the trigger. Batard's body twitched with the
shock, threshed the ground spasmodically for a moment, and went

suddenly limp. But his teeth still held fast locked.
THE STORY OF JEES' UCK

There have been renunciations and renunciations. But, in its
essence, renunciation is ever the same. And the paradox of it is,

that men and women forego the dearest thing in the world for
something dearer. It was never otherwise. Thus it was when Abel

brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. The
firstlings and the fat thereof were to him the dearest things in

the world; yet he gave them over that he might be on good terms
with God. So it was with Abraham when he prepared to offer up his

son Isaac on a stone. Isaac was very dear to him; but God, in
incomprehensible ways, was yet dearer. It may be that Abraham

feared the Lord. But whether that be true or not it has since been
determined by a few billion people that he loved the Lord and

desired to serve him.
And since it has been determined that love is service, and since to

renounce is to serve, then Jees Uck, who was merely a woman of a
swart-skinned breed, loved with a great love. She was unversed in

history, having learned to read only the signs of weather and of
game; so she had never heard of Abel nor of Abraham; nor, having

escaped the good sisters at Holy Cross, had she been told the story
of Ruth, the Moabitess, who renounced her very God for the sake of

a stranger woman from a strange land. Jees Uck had learned only
one way of renouncing, and that was with a club as the dynamic

factor, in much the same manner as a dog is made to renounce a
stolen marrow-bone. Yet, when the time came, she proved herself

capable of rising to the height of the fair-faced royal races and
of renouncing in right regal fashion.

So this is the story of Jees Uck, which is also the story of Neil
Bonner, and Kitty Bonner, and a couple of Neil Bonner's progeny.

Jees Uck was of a swart-skinned breed, it is true, but she was not
an Indian; nor was she an Eskimo; nor even an Innuit. Going

backward into mouth tradition, there appears the figure of one
Skolkz, a Toyaat Indian of the Yukon, who journeyed down in his

youth to the Great Delta where dwell the Innuits, and where he
foregathered with a woman remembered as Olillie. Now the woman

Olillie had been bred from an Eskimo mother by an Innuit man. And
from Skolkz and Olillie came Halie, who was one-half Toyaat Indian,

one-quarter Innuit, and one-quarter Eskimo. And Halie was the
grandmother of Jees Uck.