Just recently I found a story about a woman who was murdered in Niniltna back in 1915, a woman they called 'the Angel', one of the good-time girls who came up with the stampeders to mine the gold miners in the Yukon, and who came down to mine the copper miners along the Kanuyaq afterword.

It seemed to him that he was […] surrendering all agency and becoming hers to command, as if she were a Haitian bokor and he at lunch at Bergdorf Goodman had been administered the so-called zombie's cucumber which confused his thought processes and made him her slave for life.

‘I forget your coat of arms.’ ‘A human foot d’or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel.’

And from the Trees did lop the needless Spray;