"Ah! Ah!" groaned the Huskies at the Frenchman's tale of the scourge which had swept the Hudson's Bay posts to the south.
"He good man—Marcel! He fr'en' of me!" lamented Kovik. Sucking his pipe, he gravely nodded again and again. Surely, he intimated, the Company had displeased the spirits of evil to have been so punished. Then he asked: "W'ere you dog?"
"On Whale Riviere," returned Jean grimly, referring to their bones; his eyes held by the great dogs sprawled about the beach. No such sled-dogs as these had he ever seen at the post, even with the Esquimos. But his grave face betrayed no sign of what was in his mind.
Massive of bone and frame, with coats unusually heavy, even for the far-famed Ungava breed, Jean noted the strength and size of these magnificent beasts as a horseman marks the points of a blooded colt. Somewhat apart from the other dogs of Kovik, tumbling and roughing each other, frolicked four clumsy puppies, while the mother, a great slate-gray and white animal, lay near, watching her progeny through eyes whose lower lids, edged with red, marked the wolf strain. While those slant eyes kept restless guard, to molest one of her leggy, yelping imps of Satan would have been the bearding of a hundred furies. The older dogs, evidently knowing the power in the snap of her white fangs, avoided the puppies.
One, in particular, Marcel noticed as they romped and roughed each other on the shore, or with a brave show of valor, noisily charged their recumbent mother, only to be sent about their business with the mild reprimand of a nip from her long fangs. Larger, and of sturdier build than her brothers, this puppy, in marking, was the counterpart of the mother, having the same slate-gray patches on head and back and wearing white socks. As he watched her bully her brothers, Jean resolved to buy that four-months'-old puppy.
As the northern twilight filled the river valley, the Huskies returned to the lodge, where Jean squeezed in between two younger members of the family whose characteristic aroma held sleep from the fatigued voyageur long enough for him to decide on a plan of action. Before he started to trade for dogs he must learn if the Esquimos knew that they were scarce at the fur-posts. If rumor of this relayed up the coast from Husky hunting party to hunting party, had reached them, he would be lucky to get even a puppy. They would send their spare dogs to the posts.
The following morning, at the suggestion of Kovik, Marcel set his gill-net for whitefish on the opposite shore of the wide river, as the younger Esquimos showed unmistakably by their actions that his presence at the salmon fishing, soon to begin, was resented. But Jean needed food for his journey down the coast and for the dogs he hoped to buy, so ignored the dark looks cast at the mysterious white man, the friend of Kovik. But not until evening did he casually suggest to the Husky that he had more dogs than he could feed through the summer.
The broad face of Kovik widened in a mysterious smile as he asked: "You geeve black fox for dog?"
Marcel's hopes fell at the words. It was an unheard of price for a dog. The Husky knew.