“It’s rather a long story and I reckon it starts with a canoe trip I made in the North one fall.  I had then begun a business in which family influence could give me a lift.  Well, it was Indian summer; mosquitoes dying off, lakes and rivers all asleep in the pale sunshine.  As we paddled and portaged through the woods I felt I’d got into another world.  Wanted to stop forever and began to hate the cities; the feeling wasn’t new, but I hadn’t got it really strong till then.  Sometimes at night, when the loons were calling on the lake and my packers were asleep, I’d lie by the fire and speculate what civilization was worth and if a man might not do better to cut loose and live by his gun and traps.  Well, of course, it was a crank notion, and I wasn’t all a fool.  I stopped longer than I meant, but I pulled out and got to work again.”

Scott paused and smoked meditatively before he resumed:  “It was of no use; the city palled.  Don’t know that I’m a cynic or much of a philosopher, but the folks I knew seemed to have a wrong idea of values.  Spent their best efforts grubbing for money and trying to take the lead in smart society.  They made me tired with their hustling about things that didn’t matter; I wanted the woods and the quiet the river hardly breaks.”

“You went back?”

“I did,” said Scott.  “Felt I had to go.  It was winter and the cold was fierce, but we made four hundred miles with the hand-sledge across the snow, and when I came out with some fingers frozen I was nine pounds heavier.  Used to sit in my office afterwards and dream about the glittering lakes and the stiff white pines; saw them crowding round the lonely camps, when I ought to have been studying the market reports.  Well, I couldn’t concentrate on buying and selling things.  Betting on the market and getting after other people’s money seemed a pretty mean business.”  He paused and added with a twinkle:  “That’s how I felt then, and I don’t know that I’ve changed my opinions much.”

“All the same, you’re anxious to make your mining pay.”

“It isn’t logical, but I was born a white man and had got civilized.  You can’t altogether get rid of what you’re taught when young, and it’s harder when the notions you inherit are backed by your training.  Well, I saw there was a danger of my turning out a hobo if I went back North without a job.  I must get some work, and when Brinsmead came with a proposition about the Clermont vein I took down my shingle and located here with him.”

“But what about your relations?  Did they object?”

“Not much.  On the whole, I reckon they were satisfied to see me go.  They had long decided I was a crank, and since I was bound to do something foolish, I’d better do it where I wouldn’t disgrace them.  That’s about all.  We’re here, and I don’t know that I’d go back if the road was open.  Would you?”