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Show 135 Tip unraveled a red sweater that was too small for her and, night after night, we tied yarn bows on the ends of each branch. On the very top, we placed a shining silver star cut from a Lowney's cocoa can. For two months the tree filled our cabin with magnificent beauty, but also, ironically, with the scent of spruce-needle tea. After Christmas Belinda asked if Tip would like to go to Dawson City with her for a few days. She was building a new hotel on Front Street and she went there often. Of course Tip wanted to go. I was glad because she took ray note to Snorin' Sam and promised to post it on the A.C. Company bulletin board. Caribou and I watched the two of them pull away from Grand Forks in Belinda's dog sled, her three malemutes howling like wolves and swinging their tails above their backs. They looked as ridiculous as ever in their bonnets. My dog team, I vowed, would never wear baby bonnets. Tip turned and waved. We waved. We watched them racing down the frozen Bonanza Creek until they disappeared from view. Caribou turned to me. "Now that the womenfolk are gone," he asked, "what should we men do?" It did not take us long to decide. We went on a rabbit hunt. |