"They've got duck feathers, three women, and a civilized factor at the Nelson, and there ain't any of 'em here--not even a woman!" Steele shrugged his shoulders as Breed mentioned the three women at Nelson.
"There are only two women there now," he replied.

"Since a certain Bucky Nome passed that way, one of them has gone into the South." "Well, two, then," said Breed, who had not caught the flash of fire in the other's eyes.

"But I tell you there ain't a one here, Steele, not even an Indian--and that dirty Cree, Jack, is doing the cooking.

Blessed Saints, I caught him mixing biscuit dough in the wash basin the other day, and I've been eating those biscuits ever since our people went out to their traplines! There's you, and Nome, two Crees, a 'half' and myself--and that's every soul there'll be at Lac Bain until the mid-winter run of fur.

Now, what in Heaven's name is the poor old Mrs.
Colonel going to do ?" "Got a bed for her ?" "A bunk--hard as nails!" "Good grub ?" "Rotten!" groaned the factor.