midday
It is very quiet . There is no sound . Sometimes it snows , and we are like wandering ghosts . Sometimes it is clear , and at midday the sun looks at us for a moment over the hills to the south . The northern lights flame in the sky , and the sun-dogs dance , and the air is filled with frost-dust . `` I am Sitka Charley , a strong man . I was born on the trail , and all my days have I lived on the trail .