"You're still seventy miles from the Stikine when you end up at the Kwadocha," he went on, thumbing the map.
Then, more than forty years ago, came the gold-rush away up in the Stikine River country.
And on either side the traffic lane there swept a stream of people like the current of the Stikine River.
"I know a man who lived for a great many years along the Stikine," he replied then.
Yes, a woman—a woman who lives—or lived—up in the Stikine River country you mentioned to-day.