"I expect if you were a man you would just do as other men do; that is, smoke a dirty little pipe all day long, and so never breathe fresh air at all." "That is not the sort of man I would be," retorted Katherine, with a toss of her head.
Then she put the twins into their high chairs: her father and the boys came in, and dinner began.

It was a hasty meal, as early dinner has to be when half of the day's work lies beyond it, and in less than half an hour Katherine was getting into a thick pilot coat, fur cap, mittens, and a big muffler; for, although the sun was so bright, the cold was not to be trifled with.
'Duke Radford, short for Marmaduke, was a sombre-looking man of fifty.

Twenty-five years of pioneer life in the Keewatin country had worn him considerably, and he looked older than his years.

But he was a strong man still, and to-day he had loaded a sledge with stores to draw himself, while Katherine looked after the four great dogs which drew the other sledge.
The track for the first three miles was as bad as a track could be.
'Duke Radford went first, to beat or pack the snow a little firmer for Katherine and the dogs; but even then every movement of her snowshoes sent the white powdery dust flying in clouds.

The dogs followed close behind, so close that she had often to show a whip to keep them back, from fear that they would tread on her snowshoes and fling her down.
It was five good long miles to the abode of Astor M'Kree, beyond the second portage, but the last two miles were easy travelling, over a firm level track.