The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-08-22
The Honor of the F. F.
By Jannes Oliver Gunw0od
(Continued.)

Jan had not played upon his violin since the coming of Jean de Gravois but one evening he tuned his strings and said to-Meiisse;
 They have been good to- you, my Melisse- I will give them ze museek of ze violon."
 It was the big night at the post-the night that is known from Athabasca to Hudson bay as the night of the carl bou roast A week had passed, and there were no more furs to be disposed of. In the company's ledger each man had received his credit. and in the com pany's store the .furs were piled high and safe. Three caribou had been kill cd by Per-ee and his hunters. and on this night~ wheH6Ian took down his violin from tits peg on the wall. huge fire blazed in the open, and on spits six inches in diameter the caribou were roasting.
 The air was filled with the sound and odor of the carnival. Above. the fight ing and snarling of dogs the forest people lifted their voices in wild cele- bration. forgetting in this one holiday of the year the silence that they would carry back into the solitudes with them Shrill voices rose in meaning less cries above the roaring of the fire. Caribou whips snapped 1ereely Chip pewayans, Crees, Eskimos and breeds crowded, ip the red glare. The factors men shouted and sang like mad, for this was the company's annual "good time"-the show that would lure many of these same men. back again at the end of another trapping season.
 Huge boxes of white bread were placed near to the fire, A. tub of real butter. brought 5.000 miles from across the sea for the occasion, was set on a gun casefthrUwn where the heat played upon it fffy9Iov1 glory Tn giant cop per kettle. over a smaller fire, bubbled and steamed half a barrel of coffee.
 The richness of the odors that drift ed in the air set the dogs gathering upon their launches beyond the wait ing circle of masters. their lips drip ping, their fangs snapping In an eager 2 ness that was not for the flesh of bat tie. And above it all there gleamed down abflllon stars from out of the skies and the aurora flung it's banners through the pale night.
 Seated upon fhe edge of one of the bread hsxes. Jan began to play. It was not the low, sweet music of Cum mins and the little Melisse that he play ed now, but a wild, wailing song that he had found in the autumn winds. It burst above the cracking fire and the tuur1t of man and dog in a weird and savage beauty that hushed all sound, safzd life abont lhim became like life struck suddenly dead. After a while his violin sang lower song, and sweeter; and still softerit became; and more sweet. until he was playing that which he loved most of all--the music that had filled the little cabin when Cumminss wife died
 As he coRtInued to play there came an interruption to the silence--a low re- frain that was almost like that of the moaning wind. It grew beyond the tense cifcie of men, until a song of in finite sadness rose from the throats of a hundred dogs in response to Jan Thoreau's violin.
 Cummins saw the surrounding cor don become thinner as man crushed closer to man, and he saw strained faces turned from the player to where the dogs sat full throated upon their haunches, with their heads pointed straight to the stars insthe sky.
 For the love. of heaven, play no more of thatr' he cried in the boys ear. 'rPlay something fast."S
 Jan lifted his head as if from a dream. In an instant he perceived the strange effect of his music, and his bow raced across the strings of his violin in a rhythm swift and buoyant, his voice rising shrill and clear in words familiar to them all:
 "Oh. ze cariboo-oo-oo,sz cariboo-oo-oo.
 He roas' on high,
 Jes' under ze sky,
 Ee beeg white cafiboo-oo-oo!
 sOh, ze cariboo-oo-oo, ze cariboo-oo-oo.
 He brown an'i.juic' an sweet!
 e cGrihoo-oo-oo he yer polite
 4s He roas' on high.
 eer4 Jes' under ze sky,
 He ready now to come an eat?s
 With yelis that rose above the last words of the song Mukee and his Crees tugged at their poles, and the roasted caribou fell upon the snow. Jan drew back and. with his violin hugged un- der one arm, watched the wild revelers as, with bared knives flashing in the frelight, they crowded to the feast Williams the factor, joined him.
 Looks like fight, doesn't it, Jan? Once saw fight at caribou roast g
 "So did T." said Jan, who had not taken his eyes from the jostling crowd
 s'It was far to the west and north, ? continued Williams, beyond the Great Slave country"
 Far beyond" said Jan, lifting his eyes quietly. 'It was yer near to ze Great Bear. For who you fight at ze TTSS~. ~s1oss,s " s@ SSs e.
 The factor was silent, and the mus cles of his arms grew like steel as he saw the madness in Jan's face. Sud- denly he reached out and gripped the boys wrists. Jan made no effort to evade the clutch.
 t'For. who you fightY' he cried again. aFor who you fight at ze Great Bear?"
 we tried to kill man, but he got away ys said Williams, speaking so low that only. Jan heard. He 5Was"- The factofsst6ppeda @eY kCE-51-
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