"Yes," answered David, seating himself sociably; "at Champlain's Landing." "Oh, yes!" exclaimed one of the men, "I saw the sign-board on the tree where your path turns off, but I didn't know any one was there." "Have you come from Dawson?" asked David. "Yes; we left there nine days ago." "Any new strikes?" "No, none recently; but the people keep swarming in over the other trails." "What are they paying in wages?" "Seven to ten dollars a day." "I've heard it was very unhealthy there." "Yes, there's a good deal of scurvy and pneumonia." "Any starvation last winter?" "No, but it was a tight squeeze for some of them." "Does a man stand much chance of a fortune who goes there now?" "Not if he expects to dig gold. The paying ground is all taken up and a good deal more. There's a better chance now in trading. In fact, that's what my partner and I are going into. We've discovered that some things are mighty scarce in Dawson, and people will pay almost anything for them, so we're going out to the coast to bring in a stock of goods. We shall try to be back before cold weather." David had kept his eyes open for Shep, but seeing nothing of him, he asked if they had met two young fellows that morning and had noticed a black and white dog. The men remembered the pack train well enough, but neither had any recollection of seeing the dog. So David went back to the Landing more mystified than ever. With Shep away, he felt instinctively that the wolf would pay him another visit; nor was he mistaken. That night he slept deeply and heard no sound, but when he arose and went out to the cook-tent, he rubbed his eyes in astonishment. Wolf-tracks were everywhere, dishes were scattered about, a five-pound piece of bacon had disappeared, and the butter can, which had stood in a pail of water on the top of the rude sideboard five feet above the ground now lay on the grass, where the wolf had ineffectually tried to get at the contents. Strange to say, the pail from which the can had been abstracted stood unmoved in its accustomed place. David picked up the scattered utensils and smiled rather grimly to think how he had slept for two nights in the open, unprotected tent, exposed to this midnight prowler. CHAPTER XXXV A LONG MARCH, WITH A SURPRISE AT THE END OF IT As the time approached for David to be relieved from duty, he began to watch for the expected traveller and to conjecture as to who would be sent. Two weeks had passed since he had left the camp on Alder Creek. It was now near the end of July. About noon of the day following the departure of Shep and the midnight visit of the wolf, as he was cooking his dinner, he saw Davidson, a young Bostonian, swinging rapidly up the path. The two exchanged cordial greetings, and David immediately prepared to give his friend a hearty meal.