The boy regarded "Scotty" appreciatively. Here was a typical Alaskan, a sturdy trailsman, touched by the tender, pitiful things of life, just like a little boy that hasn't had time to become hardened. Ben felt that they would be friends.
[Illustration: SCOTTY AND BALDY]
"I like all kinds o' speakin', too; not jest the fiery sort that makes you want t' fight fer your country, an' mebbe die fer it like Robert Emmett; but the kind that jest makes you want t' be good ter folks an' dogs, an' do the best you kin when things is agin you, an' you don't see much ahead--"
The Woman nodded gravely. "Yes, I know. It's the most difficult sort of bravery--the sort without flags, and music, and cheers to keep you up to the firing line."
"That's the kind, ma'am. Mebbe you know Bishop Rowe. That's what he preaches--jest doin' your best all the time, like you was in some big race. When he's in Nome I allers go t' St. Mary's. He talks plain an' simple, an' cheers you up--I guess kinda the way Lincoln talked--j