“I don’t have to, there won’t be any trouble getting dog feed on the trail. There are Eskimos all along the Alatna and the Kobuk, and some white men.” “Too many dogs, far too many dogs, lass. Ye better leave them trail dogs here wi’ the Siwash boy that’s goin’ to look after the bitches an’ puppies. An’ ye better let me do most of the drivin’ an’ the handlin’ of ’em on the trail, so they’ll be more used to me. I’ll take holt of Skookum an’ learn him that a crack of the whip don’t mean the signal to fight. Because when I drive that big race I don’t want any foolishness about it. The stakes are too high.” “I think, dad, that I’ll drive this race myself,” answered the girl, as they made fast the lashings of the sled. “Tush, tush!” exclaimed the man, “What are ye sayin’? Why, if I wouldn’t let yer drive a fifty mile race, how come ye to be thinkin’ I’d let ye drive a four hundred mile race, that takes several days of the hardest kind of trailin’. If a fifty mile race is a man’s job, a four hundred mile race is a man’s job--an’ a gude man! Think no more about it, lass. I won the other race--an’ a mighty close one it was, as ye’ll admit. An’ I’ll win this one.” It was upon the girl’s tongue to retort that had she been driving the race would not have been close, but she answered nothing. Nevertheless, she had no intention of allowing the old man to drive. She knew that by no possibility could he be argued out of his determination. But she, herself, would drive that race, and she had nearly two months in which to lay her plans. In Lou Gordon’s philosophy there was no use in crossing a bridge till you got to it, and two months is a long time in which to plan. So she smiled when the old man repeated his offer to handle the dogs. “Oh, I love to drive them,” she said, “They’re used to you, now. It was only at first--before the other race that there was any danger of their not working for you. Come on, let’s go!” And, with a few words of parting instruction to the Indian boy, she swung the team down the creek, and with the old man at the handle bars, they struck out on the long snow-trail. The first leg of the journey down the Koyukuk was uneventful enough with stops at the roadhouse, at Bettles, and at Alakaket Mission. Upon the Alatna the trail of the returning Kobuks was not deeply snowed under and afforded a good footing.