"Poor little beggars!" Rea doubtfully shook his shaggy head.
Next day Jones traded with the Yellow Knives.

He had a goodly supply of baubles, besides blankets, gloves and boxes of canned goods, which he had brought for such trading.

He secured a dozen of the large-boned, white and black Indian dogs, huskies, Rea called them--two long sleds with harness and several pairs of snowshoes.

This trade made Jones rub his hands in satisfaction, for during all the long journey north he had failed to barter for such cardinal necessities to the success of his venture.
"Better have doled out the grub to them in rations," grumbled Rea.
Twenty-four hours sufficed to show Jones the wisdom of the trapper's words, for in just that time the crazed, ignorant savages had glutted the generous store of food, which should have lasted them for weeks.
The next day they were begging at the cabin door.

Rea cursed and threatened them with his fists, but they returned again and again.
Days passed.