"Stay all night," urged Peter when formal greetings had been exchanged.
"Bring your family ashore."
Poly Goussard shook his head. Poly had a chest like a barrel, a face the color of Baldwin apples and a pair of rolling, gleaming, sloe-black eyes. His head of curly black hair was famous; some one had called him the "Newfoundland dog."
"I promise my wife I sleep wit' her folks to-night," he said. "It is ten miles yet. I jus' come ashore for a little talk."
"Fine!" said Peter, "we're spoiling for news. Come on up to the store and have a cigar."
Seven hundred miles from the railway a cigar is something of a phenomenon. Poly Goussard displayed twenty dazzling teeth and made haste to follow. The three men entered the store and found seats on boxes and bales.
CHAPTER II.
FORT ENTERPRISE.
"Me, I work all winter at Fort Enterprise," said Poly.
"So I heard," said Peter. "You've had quite a trip."
The rosy half-breed shrugged. "It is easy. Jus' floatin' down the
Spirit River six days."