front--the house of Jees Uck, and likewise the house of Neil

Bonner--ere the first flurry of snow. For he fully and fondly
meant to come back. Jees Uck was dear to him, and, further, a

golden future awaited the north. With his father's money he
intended to verify that future. An ambitious dream allured him.

With his four years of experience, and aided by the friendly
cooperation of the P. C. Company, he would return to become the

Rhodes of Alaska. And he would return, fast as steam could drive,
as soon as he had put into shape the affairs of his father, whom he

had never known, and comforted his mother, whom he had forgotten.
There was much ado when Neil Bonner came back from the Arctic. The

fires were lighted and the fleshpots slung, and he took of it all
and called it good. Not only was he bronzed and creased, but he

was a new man under his skin, with a grip on things and a
seriousness and control. His old companions were amazed when he

declined to hit up the pace in the good old way, while his father's
crony rubbed hands gleefully, and became an authority upon the

reclamation of wayward and idle youth.
For four years Neil Bonner's mind had lain fallow. Little that was

new had been added to it, but it had undergone a process of
selection. It had, so to say, been purged of the trivial and

superfluous. He had lived quick years, down in the world; and, up
in the wilds, time had been given him to organize the confused mass

of his experiences. His superficial standards had been flung to
the winds and new standards erected on deeper and broader

generalizations. Concerning civilization, he had gone away with
one set of values, had returned with another set of values. Aided,

also, by the earth smells in his nostrils and the earth sights in
his eyes, he laid hold of the inner significance of civilization,

beholding with clear vision its futilities and powers. It was a
simple little philosophy he evolved. Clean living was the way to

grace. Duty performed was sanctification. One must live clean and
do his duty in order that he might work. Work was salvation. And

to work toward life abundant, and more abundant, was to be in line
with the scheme of things and the will of God.

Primarily, he was of the city. And his fresh earth grip and virile
conception of humanity gave him a finer sense of civilization and

endeared civilization to him. Day by day the people of the city
clung closer to him and the world loomed more colossal. And, day

by day, Alaska grew more remote and less real. And then he met
Kitty Sharon--a woman of his own flesh and blood and kind; a woman

who put her hand into his hand and drew him to her, till he forgot
the day and hour and the time of the year the first snow flies on

the Yukon.
Jees Uck moved into her grand log-house and dreamed away three

golden summer months. Then came the autumn, post-haste before the
down rush of winter. The air grew thin and sharp, the days thin

and short. The river ran sluggishly, and skin ice formed in the
quiet eddies. All migratory life departed south, and silence fell

upon the land. The first snow flurries came, and the last homing
steamboat bucked desperately into the running mush ice. Then came

the hard ice, solid cakes and sheets, till the Yukon ran level with
its banks. And when all this ceased the river stood still and the

blinking days lost themselves in the darkness.
John Thompson, the new agent, laughed; but Jees Uck had faith in

the mischances of sea and river. Neil Bonner might be frozen in
anywhere between Chilkoot Pass and St. Michael's, for the last

travellers of the year are always caught by the ice, when they
exchange boat for sled and dash on through the long hours behind

the flying dogs.
But no flying dogs came up the trail, nor down the trail, to Twenty

Mile. And John Thompson told Jees Uck, with a certain gladness ill
concealed, that Bonner would never come back again. Also, and

brutally, he suggested his own eligibility. Jees Uck laughed in
his face and went back to her grand log-house. But when midwinter

came, when hope dies down and life is at its lowest ebb, Jees Uck
found she had no credit at the store. This was Thompson's doing,

and he rubbed his hands, and walked up and down, and came to his
door and looked up at Jees Uck's house and waited. And he

continued to wait. She sold her dog-team to a party of miners and
paid cash for her food. And when Thompson refused to honour even

her coin, Toyaat Indians made her purchases, and sledded them up to
her house in the dark.

In February the first post came in over the ice, and John Thompson
read in the society column of a five-months-old paper of the

marriage of Neil Bonner and Kitty Sharon. Jees Uck held the door
ajar and him outside while he imparted the information; and, when

he had done, laughed pridefully and did not believe. In March, and
all alone, she gave birth to a man-child, a brave bit of new life

at which she marvelled. And at that hour, a year later, Neil
Bonner sat by another bed, marvelling at another bit of new life

that had fared into the world.
The snow went off the ground and the ice broke out of the Yukon.

The sun journeyed north, and journeyed south again; and, the money
from the being spent, Jees Uck went back to her own people. Oche

Ish, a shrewdhunter, proposed to kill the meat for her and her
babe, and catch the salmon, if she would marry him. And Imego and

Hah Yo and Wy Nooch, husky young hunters all, made similar
proposals. But she elected to live alone and seek her own meat and

fish. She sewed moccasins and PARKAS and mittens--warm,
serviceable things, and pleasing to the eye, withal, what of the

ornamental hair-tufts and bead-work. These she sold to the miners,
who were drifting faster into the land each year. And not only did

she win food that was good and plentiful, but she laid money by,
and one day took passage on the Yukon Belle down the river.

At St. Michael's she washed dishes in the kitchen of the post. The
servants of the Company wondered at the remarkable woman with the

remarkable child, though they asked no questions and she vouchsafed
nothing. But just before Bering Sea closed in for the year, she

bought a passage south on a strayed sealing schooner. That winter
she cooked for Captain Markheim's household at Unalaska, and in the

spring continued south to Sitka on a whisky sloop. Later on
appeared at Metlakahtla, which is near to St. Mary's on the end of

the Pan-Handle, where she worked in the cannery through the salmon
season. When autumn came and the Siwash fishermen prepared to

return to Puget Sound, she embarked with a couple of families in a
big cedar canoe; and with them she threaded the hazardous chaos of

the Alaskan and Canadian coasts, till the Straits of Juan de Fuca
were passed and she led her boy by the hand up the hard pave of

Seattle.
There she met Sandy MacPherson, on a windy corner, very much

surprised and, when he had heard her story, very wroth--not so
wroth as he might have been, had he known of Kitty Sharon; but of

her Jees Uck breathed not a word, for she had never believed.
Sandy, who read commonplace and sordiddesertion into the

circumstance, strove to dissuade her from her trip to San
Francisco, where Neil Bonner was supposed to live when he was at

home. And, having striven, he made her comfortable, bought her
tickets and saw her off, the while smiling in her face and

muttering "dam-shame" into his beard.
With roar and rumble, through daylight and dark, swaying and

lurching between the dawns, soaring into the winter snows and
sinking to summer valleys, skirting depths, leaping chasms,

piercing mountains, Jees Uck and her boy were hurled south. But
she had no fear of the iron stallion; nor was she stunned by this

masterful civilization of Neil Bonner's people. It seemed, rather,
that she saw with greater clearness the wonder that a man of such

godlike race had held her in his arms. The screaming medley of San
Francisco, with its restlessshipping, belching factories, and