LITMIR.BIZ

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in the bathroom, he returned to his bedroom to dress. The days were cooler now, so Robin slipped on a pair of corduroy pants and put on one of his warmer shirts. Still groggy, he strolled into the kitchen and plunked himself down at the table.

      "Wow, somebody's up early!" Marjorie Harris said, smiling at her son as she busied herself at the stove. Robin could smell oatmeal from across the room. He laid his head on the table, placed his hands under his cheek, and stretched the last sleep from his body. His mother chuckled as she put the steaming bowl beside him and absently wove her fingers through his bed-tousled hair. Moving back to the stove, she continued with her chores.

      Robin dug his spoon into the hot mixture and watched the steam rise as he moved the lumps around in the bowl. "The Reindeers got back yesterday, didn't they?"

      "They did, and not much before you and your father did. That means they need their sleep." Raising her eyebrows, Marjorie glanced back at her son as she spoke.

      Robin opened his mouth to speak, but his mother shook her head slowly. Knowing defeat, Robin lowered his head and went about finishing his oatmeal. As he washed down the last bite with a gulp of powdered milk, he stood to leave.

      "Mind what I said, Robin."

      "I will, Mom," Robin replied as he headed for the porch. "I'm just going to hang around the compound until I'm sure someone's awake over there." He slipped on a light jacket and stepped out onto the back porch. Standing in the cool air for a moment, he sat on the steps to figure out what boring thing he could do until Wayne was up.

      Marjorie glanced out the kitchen window at Robin as she worked at the sink. She slowly lowered the knife she had been using to chop vegetables for supper and studied her son as he sat on the steps. He had grown over the summer. Robin was tall for twelve, and she figured he must be at least five foot four now. Although he had sprung up, he was solid for his age. He would be in grade seven this year, and it just didn't seem possible. Ted kept a running measurement of Robin's height on the doorway to his bedroom. She would have to remind him to get Robin to stand still for a moment so they could mark him off and see just how much he had grown.

      Robin stared at the Richardson Mountains to the west. He could see new snow on the higher peaks, which meant it wouldn't be long before they got their first skiff of the season. Just beyond the Richardsons lay Yukon Territory. Because Fort McPherson was so close to the mountains, the weather could at times be unpredictable. One thing that was predictable, however, was that winter would soon hit with full force.

      The poplars and birches had turned shades of orange and yellow. Mixed with the evergreens, the contrasts were quite startling. Although there were no trees on the Richardsons themselves, the tundra-like terrain had shifted with the season to a wonderful blend of red, burgundy, orange, and green.

      The RCMP compound was located at the western edge of Fort McPherson along the bank above the Peel River. The compound itself was comprised of eight buildings. Three structures lined the most westerly bank above the river. From south to north were the staff house where the Harrises lived, the building that housed the office and single men's quarters, and Johnny Reindeer's house. Directly east of the Harris home was the jail, and beside it, just north, was the dugout icehouse at the centre of the compound. At the eastern side of the compound, towards the rest of town, also running south to north, were the dog cookhouse, dog feed shack, and the dog corral.

      As he gazed across the river at the mountains, Robin's mind shifted back to Shildii Rock. What could he do to convince his father he had actually seen something? He and Wayne had to figure something out!

      A cold, wet nose poking at the back of his neck startled Robin. "Dana!" He smiled as he reached back and took the dog in a gentle headlock. She licked his cheek when he scratched behind her ears. Robin stroked the big German shepherd's side, and her mouth opened in a tongue-filled doggie smile.

      Dana was Ted Harris's lead dog, and the best lead dog anyone had seen. Her mother had been a show dog, but Dana was born with two floppy ears that just wouldn't stand up like a show dog's should. When Robin's mother lived down south, she had purchased Dana and brought her north. Although the German shepherd would never have the appearance to show, she had an intelligence that was seldom found in any dog.

      No one had heard of a German shepherd leading a dog team of huskies, but Dana was amazing. She followed every sound of Ted's voice. Even the best lead husky could be stubborn, but not Dana. Ted would amaze people by getting Dana to lead her team to complete figure eights and other manoeuvres. The best lead huskies often hesitated at a Y in the trail and needed considerable coaxing before they would go in the right direction. With a simple "Chaw" ("Right") or "Yee" ("Left") from Ted, Dana took the correct turn every time.

      Most lead dogs were male, but Dana was female. Although they often fought among themselves, the other dogs never fought with Dana and seemed to give her a special respect. While the rest of the team was post-tied in the dog corral, Dana ran free. A loose dog always sent the corrals of huskies into a barking frenzy, but not when it was Dana.

      "What do you think, Dana? Am I nuts?" Dana cocked her head at an angle and gave a small snort. "Of course, I'm not nuts. I knew you would be on my side." Robin hugged the German shepherd and ruffled her fur.

      "You missed me so much, you need to tell Dana your problems?"

      Robin looked up as Wayne sauntered over and plopped himself down. Wayne was Robin's age, roughly the same height, but slightly lighter in build. With jet-black hair and a dusky Gwich'in complexion that had darkened from a summer at camp in the sun, he was a distinct contrast to Robin's sandy hair and fair, freckled skin.

      "Did I ever miss you!" Robin said. "These last two weeks seemed like two months!"

      Wayne smiled. "Actually, it was kind of like that for me, too. Our camp's great, but after you've been out there for a while with nobody but my mom and dad and sisters, it starts to get to you a bit."

      Robin nodded and glanced back at the mountains. He had been anxious to tell his friend about what he had seen, but now he wondered if even Wayne would believe him.

      "Oh, man, Robin, I almost forgot. I shot my first moose. It was great!"

      Robin's story would have to wait, but he didn't mind. He and Wayne had both taken their first caribou the year before, and Robin was envious that Wayne had now brought down a moose.

      "It was cool. It was kind of fluky, too, but it was cool. I brought it down with one shot. My dad says I hit it just perfect, and he never saw anyone do that on their first try. But, jeez, was it a lot of work to move and butcher! It was huge!"

      Robin sat back and listened. When Wayne got excited, there was no stopping him. All a guy could do was get comfortable and listen.

      "The good thing is, it wasn't far from camp. We pretty much left it where it was and butchered up the meat. Man, there's a lot! I think my dad's giving you guys some. I know he took some to Grandpa last night, and the rest will last us the best part of winter. It's pretty neat because Dad didn't even get a moose this fall. The thing was big, man! Did I tell you that?" Wayne got up and raised his arms above his head. "It stood at least this high. I betcha it weighed a couple thousand pounds, too. I —"

      "I betcha by tomorrow that moose will weigh 5,000 pounds." Johnny Reindeer laughed as he approached the boys. He was a handsome man with an athletic build. His eyes were the deepest brown, and they shone with a sense of humour and a love of all things amusing in life.

      Robin jumped up from the steps. "Hi, Johnny!"

      Johnny chuckled. "Hey there, Redbreast!" He threw his arms around both boys and gave them a squeeze. "Wait a second. Something isn't right here." Johnny took a step back and surveyed the two boys, hands on his hips. "Well, well, well. Somebody isn't the king of the hill anymore. Mr. Wayne, I hereby change your name to Shorty!"

      The two boys took the first good look at each other. Johnny was right. Robin had always been a touch shorter than Wayne. There was no mistake, however. Robin now gazed down into Wayne's eyes. Robin puffed out his chest and began to laugh.

      "Aw, get lost!" Wayne said, pretending he was mad. "I'm just temporarily shorter 'cause

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