“I know 'em now,” Shorty told Smoke. “He's old Louis Gastell, an' the real goods. That must be his kid. He come into this country so long ago they ain't nobody can recollect, an' he brought the girl with him, she only a baby. Him an' Beetles was tradin' partners an' they ran the first dinkey little steamboat up the Koyukuk.” “I don't think we'll try to pass them,” Smoke said. “We're at the head of the stampede, and there are only four of us.” Shorty agreed, and another hour of silence followed, during which they swung steadily along. At seven o'clock, the blackness was broken by a last display of the aurora borealis, which showed to the west a broad opening between snow-clad mountains. “Squaw Creek!” Joy exclaimed. “Goin' some,” Shorty exulted. “We oughtn't to been there for another half hour to the least, accordin' to my reckonin'. I must 'a' been spreadin' my legs.” It was at this point that the Dyea trail, baffled by ice-jams, swerved abruptly across the Yukon to the east bank. And here they must leave the hard-packed, main-travelled trail, mount the jams, and follow a dim trail, but slightly packed, that hovered the west bank. Louis Gastell, leading, slipped in the darkness on the rough ice, and sat up, holding his ankle in both his hands. He struggled to his feet and went on, but at a slower pace and with a perceptible limp. After a few minutes he abruptly halted. “It's no use,” he said to his daughter. “I've sprained a tendon. You go ahead and stake for me as well as yourself.” “Can't we do something?” Smoke asked solicitously. Louis Gastell shook his head. “She can stake two claims as well as one. I'll crawl over to the bank, start a fire, and bandage my ankle. I'll be all right. Go on, Joy. Stake ours above the Discovery claim; it's richer higher up.” “Here's some birch bark,” Smoke said, dividing his supply equally. “We'll take care of your daughter.” Louis Gastell laughed harshly. “Thank you just the same,” he said. “But she can take care of herself. Follow her and watch her.” “Do you mind if I lead?” she asked Smoke, as she headed on. “I know this country better than you.” “Lead on,” Smoke answered gallantly, “though I agree with you it's a darned shame all us chechakos are going to beat that Sea Lion bunch to it. Isn't there some way to shake them?” She shook her head. “We can't hide our trail, and they'll follow it like sheep.”