But her next move disarmed his doubt, and he smiled with pleasure.  She took from her sewing bag a moosehide sheath, brave with bright beadwork, fantastically designed.  She drew his great hunting-knife, gazed reverently along the keen edge, half tempted to try it with her thumb, and shot it into place in its new home.  Then she slipped the sheath along the belt to its customary resting-place, just above the hip.  For all the world, it was like a scene of olden time,—­a lady and her knight.

Mackenzie drew her up full height and swept her red lips with his moustache,the, to her, foreign caress of the Wolf.  It was a meeting of the stone age and the steel; but she was none the less a woman, as her crimson cheeks and the luminous softness of her eyes attested.

There was a thrill of excitement in the air as ‘Scruff’ Mackenzie, a bulky bundle under his arm, threw open the flap of Thling-Tinneh’s tent.  Children were running about in the open, dragging dry wood to the scene of the potlach, a babble of women’s voices was growing in intensity, the young men were consulting in sullen groups, while from the Shaman’s lodge rose the eerie sounds of an incantation.

The chief was alone with his blear-eyed wife, but a glance sufficed to tell Mackenzie that the news was already told.  So he plunged at once into the business, shifting the beaded sheath prominently to the fore as advertisement of the betrothal.

’O Thling-Tinneh, mighty chief of the Sticks And the land of the Tanana, ruler of the salmon and the bear, the moose and the cariboo!  The White Man is before thee with a great purpose.  Many moons has his lodge been empty, and he is lonely.  And his heart has eaten itself in silence, and grown hungry for a woman to sit beside him in his lodge, to meet him from the hunt with warm fire and good food.  He has heard strange things, the patter of baby moccasins and the sound of children’s voices.  And one night a vision came upon him, and he beheld the Raven, who is thy father, the great Raven, who is the father of all the Sticks.  And the Raven spake to the lonely White Man, saying:  “Bind thou thy moccasins upon thee, and gird thy snow-shoes on, and lash thy sled with food for many sleeps and fine tokens for the Chief Thling-Tinneh.  For thou shalt turn thy face to where the mid-spring sun is wont to sink below the land and journey to this great chief’s hunting-grounds.  There thou shalt make big presents, and Thling-Tinneh, who is my son, shall become to thee as a father.  In his lodge there is a maiden into whom I breathed the breath of life for thee.  This maiden shalt thou take to wife.”  ’O Chief, thus spake the great Raven; thus do I lay many presents at thy feet; thus am I come to take thy daughter!’ The old man drew his furs about him with crude consciousness of royalty, but delayed reply while a youngster crept in, delivered a quick message to appear before the council, and was gone.