midnight
I know . I am Tyee . '' This is a tale that was told to me by two old men . We sat in the smoke of a mosquito-smudge , in the cool of the day , which was midnight ; and ever and anon , throughout the telling , we smote lustily and with purpose at such of the winged pests as braved the smoke for a snack at our hides . To the right , beneath us , twenty feet down the crumbling bank , the Yukon gurgled lazily . To the left , on the rose-leaf rim of the low-lying hills , smouldered the sleepy sun , which saw no sleep that night nor was destined to see sleep for many nights to come . The old men who sat with me and valorously slew mosquitoes were Lone Chief and Mutsak , erstwhile comrades in arms , and now withered repositories of tradition and ancient happening .