The Son of the Wolf............................................................................................................................................1

'Carmen won't last more than a couple of days.' Mason spat out a chunk of ice and surveyed the poor animal

ruefully, then put her foot in his mouth and proceeded to bite out the ice which clustered cruelly between the

'I never saw a dog with a highfalutin' name that ever was worth a rap,' he said, as he concluded his task and

shoved her aside. 'They just fade away and die under the responsibility. Did ye ever see one go wrong with a

sensible name like Cassiar, Siwash, or Husky? No, sir! Take a look at Shookum here, he's' Snap! The lean

'Ye will, will ye?' A shrewd clout behind the ear with the butt of the dog whip stretched the animal in the

'As I was saying, just look at Shookum herehe's got the spirit. Bet ye he eats Carmen before the week's

out.' 'I'll bank another proposition against that,' replied Malemute Kid, reversing the frozen bread placed

before the fire to thaw. 'We'll eat Shookum before the trip is over. What d'ye say, Ruth?' The Indian woman

settled the coffee with a piece of ice, glanced from Malemute Kid to her husband, then at the dogs, but

vouchsafed no reply. It was such a palpable truism that none was necessary. Two hundred miles of unbroken

trail in prospect, with a scant six days' grub for themselves and none for the dogs, could admit no other

alternative. The two men and the woman grouped about the fire and began their meager meal. The dogs lay in

'No more lunches after today,' said Malemute Kid. 'And we've got to keep a close eye on the dogsthey're

getting vicious. They'd just as soon pull a fellow down as not, if they get a chance.' 'And I was president of an

Epworth once, and taught in the Sunday school.' Having irrelevantly delivered himself of this, Mason fell into

a dreamy contemplation of his steaming moccasins, but was aroused by Ruth filling his cup.

'Thank God, we've got slathers of tea! I've seen it growing, down in Tennessee. What wouldn't I give for a hot

corn pone just now! Never mind, Ruth; you won't starve much longer, nor wear moccasins either.' The

woman threw off her gloom at this, and in her eyes welled up a great love for her white lordthe first white

man she had ever seenthe first man whom she had known to treat a woman as something better than a

'Yes, Ruth,' continued her husband, having recourse to the macaronic jargon in which it was alone possible

for them to understand each other; 'wait till we clean up and pull for the Outside. We'll take the White Man's

canoe and go to the Salt Water. Yes, bad water, rough watergreat mountains dance up and down all the

time. And so big, so far, so far awayyou travel ten sleep, twenty sleep, forty sleep'he graphically

enumerated the days on his fingers'all the time water, bad water. Then you come to great village, plenty

people, just the same mosquitoes next summer. Wigwams oh, so highten, twenty pines.

Hiyu skookum!' He paused impotently, cast an appealing glance at Malemute Kid, then laboriously placed

the twenty pines, end on end, by sign language. Malemute Kid smiled with cheery cynicism; but Ruth's eyes

were wide with wonder, and with pleasure; for she half believed he was joking, and such condescension

'And then you step into aa box, and pouf! up you go.' He tossed his empty cup in the air by way of

illustration and, as he deftly caught it, cried: 'And biff! down you come. Oh, great medicine men! You go

Fort Yukon. I go Arctic Citytwentyfive sleepbig string, all the timeI catch him stringI say,

"Hello, Ruth! How are ye?"and you say, "Is that my good husband?"and I say, "Yes"and you say,

"No can bake good bread, no more soda"then I say, "Look in cache, under flour; goodby." You look and

catch plenty soda. All the time you Fort Yukon, me Arctic City. Hiyu medicine man!' Ruth smiled so

ingenuously at the fairy story that both men burst into laughter. A row among the dogs cut short the wonders

of the Outside, and by the time the snarling combatants were separated, she had lashed the sleds and all was

ready for the trail. 'Mush! Baldy! Hi! Mush on!' Mason worked his whip smartly and, as the dogs whined

low in the traces, broke out the sled with the gee pole. Ruth followed with the second team, leaving

Malemute Kid, who had helped her start, to bring up the rear. Strong man, brute that he was, capable of

felling an ox at a blow, he could not bear to beat the poor animals, but humored them as a dog driver rarely

'Come, mush on there, you poor sorefooted brutes!' he murmured, after several ineffectual attempts to start

the load. But his patience was at last rewarded, and though whimpering with pain, they hastened to join their

And of all deadening labors, that of the Northland trail is the worst. Happy is the man who can weather a

day's travel at the price of silence, and that on a beaten track. And of all heartbreaking labors, that of breaking

trail is the worst. At every step the great webbed shoe sinks till the snow is level with the knee. Then up,

straight up, the deviation of a fraction of an inch being a certain precursor of disaster, the snowshoe must be

lifted till the surface is cleared; then forward, down, and the other foot is raised perpendicularly for the matter

of half a yard. He who tries this for the first time, if haply he avoids bringing his shoes in dangerous

propinquity and measures not his length on the treacherous footing, will give up exhausted at the end of a

hundred yards; he who can keep out of the way of the dogs for a whole day may well crawl into his sleeping

bag with a clear conscience and a pride which passeth all understanding; and he who travels twenty sleeps on

The afternoon wore on, and with the awe, born of the White Silence, the voiceless travelers bent to their

work. Nature has many tricks wherewith she convinces man of his finitythe ceaseless flow of the tides, the

fury of the storm, the shock of the earthquake, the long roll of heaven's artillerybut the most tremendous,

the most stupefying of all, is the passive phase of the White Silence. All movement ceases, the sky clears, the

heavens are as brass; the slightest whisper seems sacrilege, and man becomes timid, affrighted at the sound of

his own voice. Sole speck of life journeying across the ghostly wastes of a dead world, he trembles at his

Strange thoughts arise unsummoned, and the mystery of all things strives for utterance.

And the fear of death, of God, of the universe, comes over himthe hope of the Resurrection and the Life,

the yearning for immortality, the vain striving of the imprisoned essenceit is then, if ever, man walks alone

So wore the day away. The river took a great bend, and Mason headed his team for the cutoff across the

narrow neck of land. But the dogs balked at the high bank. Again and again, though Ruth and Malemute Kid

were shoving on the sled, they slipped back. Then came the concerted effort. The miserable creatures, weak

from hunger, exerted their last strength. Upupthe sled poised on the top of the bank; but the leader

swung the string of dogs behind him to the right, fouling Mason's snowshoes. The result was grievous.

Mason was whipped off his feet; one of the dogs fell in the traces; and the sled toppled back, dragging

Slash! the whip fell among the dogs savagely, especially upon the one which had fallen.

'Don't,Mason,' entreated Malemute Kid; 'the poor devil's on its last legs. Wait and we'll put my team on.'

Mason deliberately withheld the whip till the last word had fallen, then out flashed the long lash, completely

Carmenfor it was Carmencowered in the snow, cried piteously, then rolled over on her side.

It was a tragic moment, a pitiful incident of the traila dying dog, two comrades in anger.

Ruth glanced solicitously from man to man. But Malemute Kid restrained himself, though there was a world

of reproach in his eyes, and, bending over the dog, cut the traces. No word was spoken. The teams were

doublespanned and the difficulty overcome; the sleds were under way again, the dying dog dragging herself

along in the rear. As long as an animal can travel, it is not shot, and this last chance is accorded itthe

Already penitent for his angry action, but too stubborn to make amends, Mason toiled on at the head of the

cavalcade, little dreaming that danger hovered in the air. The timber clustered thick in the sheltered bottom,

and through this they threaded their way. Fifty feet or more from the trail towered a lofty pine. For

generations it had stood there, and for generations destiny had had this one end in viewperhaps the same

He stooped to fasten the loosened thong of his moccasin. The sleds came to a halt, and the dogs lay down in

the snow without a whimper. The stillness was weird; not a breath rustled the frostencrusted forest; the cold

and silence of outer space had chilled the heart and smote the trembling lips of nature. A sigh pulsed through

the airthey did not seem to actually hear it, but rather felt it, like the premonition of movement in a

motionless void. Then the great tree, burdened with its weight of years and snow, played its last part in the

tragedy of life. He heard the warning crash and attempted to spring up but, almost erect, caught the blow

The sudden danger, the quick deathhow often had Malemute Kid faced it! The pine needles were still

quivering as he gave his commands and sprang into action. Nor did the Indian girl faint or raise her voice in

idle wailing, as might many of her white sisters. At his order, she threw her weight on the end of a quickly

extemporized handspike, easing the pressure and listening to her husband's groans, while Malemute Kid

attacked the tree with his ax. The steel rang merrily as it bit into the frozen trunk, each stroke being

accompanied by a forced, audible respiration, the 'Huh!' 'Huh!' of the woodsman.

At last the Kid laid the pitiable thing that was once a man in the snow. But worse than his comrade's pain was

the dumb anguish in the woman's face, the blended look of hopeful, hopeless query. Little was said; those of

the Northland are early taught the futility of words and the inestimable value of deeds. With the temperature

at sixtyfive below zero, a man cannot lie many minutes in the snow and live. So the sled lashings were cut,

and the sufferer, rolled in furs, laid on a couch of boughs. Before him roared a fire, built of the very wood

which wrought the mishap. Behind and partially over him was stretched the primitive flya piece of canvas,

which caught the radiating heat and threw it back and down upon hima trick which men may know who study

And men who have shared their bed with death know when the call is sounded. Mason was terribly crushed.

His right arm, leg, and back were broken; his limbs were paralyzed from the hips; and the likelihood of

No hope; nothing to be done. The pitiless night crept slowly byRuth's portion, the despairing stoicism of

In fact, Mason suffered least of all, for he spent his time in eastern Tennessee, in the Great Smoky Mountains,

living over the scenes of his childhood. And most pathetic was the melody of his longforgotten Southern

vernacular, as he raved of swimming holes and coon hunts and watermelon raids. It was as Greek to Ruth, but

the Kid understood and feltfelt as only one can feel who has been shut out for years from all that

Morning brought consciousness to the stricken man, and Malemute Kid bent closer to catch his whispers.

'You remember when we foregathered on the Tanana, four years come next ice run? I didn't care so much for

her then. It was more like she was pretty, and there was a smack of excitement about it, I think. But d'ye

know, I've come to think a heap of her. She's been a good wife to me, always at my shoulder in the pinch.

And when it comes to trading, you know there isn't her equal. D'ye recollect the time she shot the Moosehorn

Rapids to pull you and me off that rock, the bullets whipping the water like hailstones? and the time of the

Yes, she's been a good wife to me, better'n that other one. Didn't know I'd been there?

Never told you, eh? Well, I tried it once, down in the States. That's why I'm here. Been raised together, too. I

'But that's got nothing to do with Ruth. I had thought of cleaning up and pulling for the Outside next

yearher and Ibut it's too late. Don't send her back to her people, Kid. It's beastly hard for a woman to go

back. Think of it!nearly four years on our bacon and beans and flour and dried fruit, and then to go back to

her fish and caribou. It's not good for her to have tried our ways, to come to know they're better'n her

people's, and then return to them. Take care of her, Kidwhy don't youbut no, you always fought shy of

themand you never told me why you came to this country. Be kind to her, and send her back to the States

as soon as you can. But fix it so she can come backliable to get homesick, you know.

'And the youngsterit's drawn us closer, Kid. I only hope it is a boy. Think of it!flesh of my flesh, Kid.

He mustn't stop in this country. And if it's a girl, why, she can't. Sell my furs; they'll fetch at least five

thousand, and I've got as much more with the company. And handle my interests with yours. I think that

bench claim will show up. See that he gets a good schooling; and Kid, above all, don't let him come back.

'I'm a gone man, Kid. Three or four sleeps at the best. You've got to go on. You must go on! Remember, it's

my wife, it's my boyO God! I hope it's a boy! You can't stay by meand I charge you, a dying man, to

'Give me three days,' pleaded Malemute Kid. 'You may change for the better; something may turn up.'

'Only one day. We can shave it through on the grub, and I might knock over a moose.'

'Noall right; one day, but not a minute more. And, Kid, don'tdon't leave me to face it alone. Just a shot,

one pull on the trigger. You understand. Think of it! Think of it! Flesh of my flesh, and I'll never live to see

'Send Ruth here. I want to say goodby and tell her that she must think of the boy and not wait till I'm dead.

'Kid! I sayasink a hole above the pup, next to the slide. I panned out forty cents on my shovel there.

'And, Kid!' He stooped lower to catch the last faint words, the dying man's surrender of his pride. 'I'm

sorryforyou knowCarmen.' Leaving the girl crying softly over her man, Malemute Kid slipped into

his parka and snowshoes, tucked his rifle under his arm, and crept away into the forest. He was no tyro in the

stern sorrows of the Northland, but never had he faced so stiff a problem as this. In the abstract, it was a

plain, mathematical propositionthree possible lives as against one doomed one. But now he hesitated. For five

years, shoulder to shoulder, on the rivers and trails, in the camps and mines, facing death by field and flood

and famine, had they knitted the bonds of their comradeship. So close was the tie that he had often been

conscious of a vague jealousy of Ruth, from the first time she had come between. And now it must be severed

Though he prayed for a moose, just one moose, all game seemed to have deserted the land, and nightfall

found the exhausted man crawling into camp, lighthanded, heavyhearted. An uproar from the dogs and shrill

Bursting into the camp, he saw the girl in the midst of the snarling pack, laying about her with an ax. The

He joined the issue with his rifle reversed, and the hoary game of natural selection was played out with all the

ruthlessness of its primeval environment. Rifle and ax went up and down, hit or missed with monotonous

regularity; lithe bodies flashed, with wild eyes and dripping fangs; and man and beast fought for supremacy

to the bitterest conclusion. Then the beaten brutes crept to the edge of the firelight, licking their wounds,

The whole stock of dried salmon had been devoured, and perhaps five pounds of flour remained to tide them

over two hundred miles of wilderness. Ruth returned to her husband, while Malemute Kid cut up the warm

body of one of the dogs, the skull of which had been crushed by the ax. Every portion was carefully put

away, save the hide and offal, which were cast to his fellows of the moment before.

Morning brought fresh trouble. The animals were turning on each other. Carmen, who still clung to her

slender thread of life, was downed by the pack. The lash fell among them unheeded. They cringed and cried

under the blows, but refused to scatter till the last wretched bit had disappearedbones, hide, hair,

Malemute Kid went about his work, listening to Mason, who was back in Tennessee, delivering tangled

Taking advantage of neighboring pines, he worked rapidly, and Ruth watched him make a cache similar to

those sometimes used by hunters to preserve their meat from the wolverines and dogs. One after the other, he

bent the tops of two small pines toward each other and nearly to the ground, making them fast with thongs of

moosehide. Then he beat the dogs into submission and harnessed them to two of the sleds, loading the same

with everything but the furs which enveloped Mason. These he wrapped and lashed tightly about him,

fastening either end of the robes to the bent pines. A single stroke of his hunting knife would release them

Ruth had received her husband's last wishes and made no struggle. Poor girl, she had learned the lesson of

obedience well. From a child, she had bowed, and seen all women bow, to the lords of creation, and it did not

seem in the nature of things for woman to resist. The Kid permitted her one outburst of grief, as she kissed

her husbandher own people had no such customthen led her to the foremost sled and helped her into her

snowshoes. Blindly, instinctively, she took the gee pole and whip, and 'mushed' the dogs out on the trail.

Then he returned to Mason, who had fallen into a coma, and long after she was out of sight crouched by the

It is not pleasant to be alone with painful thoughts in the White Silence. The silence of gloom is merciful,

shrouding one as with protection and breathing a thousand intangible sympathies; but the bright White

An hour passedtwo hoursbut the man would not die. At high noon the sun, without raising its rim above

the southern horizon, threw a suggestion of fire athwart the heavens, then quickly drew it back. Malemute

Kid roused and dragged himself to his comrade's side. He cast one glance about him. The White Silence

seemed to sneer, and a great fear came upon him. There was a sharp report; Mason swung into his aerial

sepulcher, and Malemute Kid lashed the dogs into a wild gallop as he fled across the snow.

Man rarely places a proper valuation upon his womankind, at least not until deprived of them. He has no

conception of the subtle atmosphere exhaled by the sex feminine, so long as he bathes in it; but let it be

withdrawn, and an evergrowing void begins to manifest itself in his existence, and he becomes hungry, in a

vague sort of way, for a something so indefinite that he cannot characterize it. If his comrades have no more

experience than himself, they will shake their heads dubiously and dose him with strong physic. But the

hunger will continue and become stronger; he will lose interest in the things of his everyday life and wax

morbid; and one day, when the emptiness has become unbearable, a revelation will dawn upon him.

In the Yukon country, when this comes to pass, the man usually provisions a poling boat, if it is summer, and

if winter, harnesses his dogs, and heads for the Southland. A few months later, supposing him to be possessed

of a faith in the country, he returns with a wife to share with him in that faith, and incidentally in his

hardships. This but serves to show the innate selfishness of man. It also brings us to the trouble of 'Scruff'

Mackenzie, which occurred in the old days, before the country was stampeded and staked by a tidal wave of

the chechaquas, and when the Klondike's only claim to notice was its salmon fisheries.

His face was stamped with twentyfive years of incessant struggle with Nature in her wildest moods,the

last two, the wildest and hardest of all, having been spent in groping for the gold which lies in the shadow of

the Arctic Circle. When the yearning sickness came upon him, he was not surprised, for he was a practical

man and had seen other men thus stricken. But he showed no sign of his malady, save that he worked harder.

All summer he fought mosquitoes and washed the surething bars of the Stuart River for a double grubstake.

Then he floated a raft of houselogs down the Yukon to Forty Mile, and put together as comfortable a cabin as

any the camp could boast of. In fact, it showed such cozy promise that many men elected to be his partner

and to come and live with him. But he crushed their aspirations with rough speech, peculiar for its strength

As has been noted, 'Scruff' Mackenzie was a practical man. If he wanted a thing he usually got it, but in doing

so, went no farther out of his way than was necessary. Though a son of toil and hardship, he was averse to a

journey of six hundred miles on the ice, a second of two thousand miles on the ocean, and still a third

thousand miles or so to his last stampinggrounds,all in the mere quest of a wife. Life was too short. So he

rounded up his dogs, lashed a curious freight to his sled, and faced across the divide whose westward slopes

He was a sturdy traveler, and his wolfdogs could work harder and travel farther on less grub than any other

team in the Yukon. Three weeks later he strode into a huntingcamp of the Upper Tanana Sticks. They

marveled at his temerity; for they had a bad name and had been known to kill white men for as trifling a thing

But he went among them singlehanded, his bearing being a delicious composite of humility, familiarity,

sangfroid, and insolence. It required a deft hand and deep knowledge of the barbaric mind effectually to

handle such diverse weapons; but he was a pastmaster in the art, knowing when to conciliate and when to

He first made obeisance to the Chief ThlingTinneh, presenting him with a couple of pounds of black tea and

tobacco, and thereby winning his most cordial regard. Then he mingled with the men and maidens, and that

The snow was beaten down in the form of an oblong, perhaps a hundred feet in length and quarter as many

across. Down the center a long fire was built, while either side was carpeted with spruce boughs. The lodges

were forsaken, and the fivescore or so members of the tribe gave tongue to their folkchants in honor of their

'Scruff' Mackenzie's two years had taught him the not many hundred words of their vocabulary, and he had

likewise conquered their deep gutturals, their Japanese idioms, constructions, and honorific and agglutinative

particles. So he made oration after their manner, satisfying their instinctive poetrylove with crude flights of

eloquence and metaphorical contortions. After ThlingTinneh and the Shaman had responded in kind, he

made trifling presents to the menfolk, joined in their singing, and proved an expert in their fiftytwostick

And they smoked his tobacco and were pleased. But among the younger men there was a defiant attitude, a

spirit of braggadocio, easily understood by the raw insinuations of the toothless squaws and the giggling of

the maidens. They had known few white men, 'Sons of the Wolf,' but from those few they had learned strange

Nor had 'Scruff' Mackenzie, for all his seeming carelessness, failed to note these phenomena. In truth, rolled

in his sleepingfurs, he thought it all over, thought seriously, and emptied many pipes in mapping out a

campaign. One maiden only had caught his fancy,none other than Zarinska, daughter to the chief. In

features, form, and poise, answering more nearly to the white man's type of beauty, she was almost an

anomaly among her tribal sisters. He would possess her, make her his wife, and name herah, he would

name her Gertrude! Having thus decided, he rolled over on his side and dropped off to sleep, a true son of his

It was slow work and a stiff game; but 'Scruff' Mackenzie maneuvered cunningly, with an unconcern which

served to puzzle the Sticks. He took great care to impress the men that he was a sure shot and a mighty

hunter, and the camp rang with his plaudits when he brought down a moose at six hundred yards. Of a night

he visited in Chief Thling Tinneh's lodge of moose and cariboo skins, talking big and dispensing tobacco

with a lavish hand. Nor did he fail to likewise honor the Shaman; for he realized the medicine man's

influence with his people, and was anxious to make of him an ally. But that worthy was high and mighty,

refused to be propitiated, and was unerringly marked down as a prospective enemy.

Though no opening presented for an interview with Zarinska, Mackenzie stole many a glance to her, giving

fair warning of his intent. And well she knew, yet coquettishly surrounded herself with a ring of women

whenever the men were away and he had a chance. But he was in no hurry; besides, he knew she could not

help but think of him, and a few days of such thought would only better his suit.

At last, one night, when he deemed the time to be ripe, he abruptly left the chief's smoky dwelling and

hastened to a neighboring lodge. As usual, she sat with squaws and maidens about her, all engaged in sewing

moccasins and beadwork. They laughed at his entrance, and badinage, which linked Zarinska to him, ran

high. But one after the other they were unceremoniously bundled into the outer snow, whence they hurried to

His cause was well pleaded, in her tongue, for she did not know his, and at the end of two hours he rose to go.

'So Zarinska will come to the White Man's lodge? Good! I go now to have talk with thy father, for he may not

be so minded. And I will give him many tokens; but he must not ask too much. If he say no? Good! Zarinska

He had already lifted the skin flap to depart, when a low exclamation brought him back to the girl's side. She

brought herself to her knees on the bearskin mat, her face aglow with true Evelight, and shyly unbuckled his

heavy belt. He looked down, perplexed, suspicious, his ears alert for the slightest sound without.

But her next move disarmed his doubt, and he smiled with pleasure. She took from her sewing bag a

moosehide sheath, brave with bright beadwork, fantastically designed. She drew his great huntingknife,

gazed reverently along the keen edge, half tempted to try it with her thumb, and shot it into place in its new

home. Then she slipped the sheath along the belt to its customary restingplace, just above the hip. For all the

Mackenzie drew her up full height and swept her red lips with his moustache,the, to her, foreign caress of the

Wolf. It was a meeting of the stone age and the steel; but she was none the less a woman, as her crimson

There was a thrill of excitement in the air as 'Scruff' Mackenzie, a bulky bundle under his arm, threw open the

flap of ThlingTinneh's tent. Children were running about in the open, dragging dry wood to the scene of the

potlach, a babble of women's voices was growing in intensity, the young men were consulting in sullen

The chief was alone with his bleareyed wife, but a glance sufficed to tell Mackenzie that the news was

already told. So he plunged at once into the business, shifting the beaded sheath prominently to the fore as

'O ThlingTinneh, mighty chief of the Sticks And the land of the Tanana, ruler of the salmon and the bear,

the moose and the cariboo! The White Man is before thee with a great purpose. Many moons has his lodge

been empty, and he is lonely. And his heart has eaten itself in silence, and grown hungry for a woman to sit

beside him in his lodge, to meet him from the hunt with warm fire and good food. He has heard strange

things, the patter of baby moccasins and the sound of children's voices. And one night a vision came upon

him, and he beheld the Raven, who is thy father, the great Raven, who is the father of all the Sticks. And the

Raven spake to the lonely White Man, saying: "Bind thou thy moccasins upon thee, and gird thy snowshoes

on, and lash thy sled with food for many sleeps and fine tokens for the Chief ThlingTinneh. For thou shalt

turn thy face to where the midspring sun is wont to sink below the land and journey to this great chief's

hunting grounds. There thou shalt make big presents, and ThlingTinneh, who is my son, shall become to

thee as a father. In his lodge there is a maiden into whom I breathed the breath of life for thee. This maiden

shalt thou take to wife." 'O Chief, thus spake the great Raven; thus do I lay many presents at thy feet; thus am

I come to take thy daughter!' The old man drew his furs about him with crude consciousness of royalty, but

delayed reply while a youngster crept in, delivered a quick message to appear before the council, and was

'O White Man, whom we have named MooseKiller, also known as the Wolf, and the Son of the Wolf! We

know thou comest of a mighty race; we are proud to have thee our potlachguest; but the kingsalmon does

not mate with the dogsalmon, nor the Raven with the Wolf.' 'Not so!' cried Mackenzie. 'The daughters of the

Raven have I met in the camps of the Wolf,the squaw of Mortimer, the squaw of Tregidgo, the squaw of

Barnaby, who came two iceruns back, and I have heard of other squaws, though my eyes beheld them not.'

'Son, your words are true; but it were evil mating, like the water with the sand, like the snowflake with the

He came ten iceruns ago,the first of all the Wolves. And with him there was a mighty man, straight as a

willowshoot, and tall; strong as the baldfaced grizzly, with a heart like the full summer moon; his' 'Oh!'

interrupted Mackenzie, recognizing the well known Northland figure, 'Malemute Kid!' 'The same,a

mighty man. But saw you aught of the squaw? She was full sister to Zarinska.' 'Nay, Chief; but I have heard.

Masonfar, far to the north, a sprucetree, heavy with years, crushed out his life beneath. But his love was

great, and he had much gold. With this, and her boy, she journeyed countless sleeps toward the winter's

noonday sun, and there she yet lives,no biting frost, no snow, no summer's midnight sun, no winter's

As Mackenzie threw him into the snow, he caught a glimpse of the swaying forms before the councilfire,

heard the deep basses of the men in rhythmic chant, and knew the Shaman was fanning the anger of his

'Come! I wish thy child. And now, see! Here are tobacco, tea, many cups of sugar, warm blankets,

handkerchiefs, both good and large; and here, a true rifle, with many bullets and much powder.' 'Nay,' replied

the old man, struggling against the great wealth spread before him. 'Even now are my people come together.

'But thou art chief.' 'Yet do my young men rage because the Wolves have taken their maidens so that they

may not marry.' 'Listen, O ThlingTinneh! Ere the night has passed into the day, the Wolf shall face his dogs

to the Mountains of the East and fare forth to the Country of the Yukon. And Zarinska shall break trail for his

dogs.' 'And ere the night has gained its middle, my young men may fling to the dogs the flesh of the Wolf,

and his bones be scattered in the snow till the springtime lay them bare.' It was threat and counterthreat.

Mackenzie's bronzed face flushed darkly. He raised his voice. The old squaw, who till now had sat an

The song of the men broke suddenly and there was a hubbub of many voices as he whirled the old woman

'Again I crylisten, O ThlingTinneh! The Wolf dies with teeth fastlocked, and with him there shall sleep

ten of thy strongest men,men who are needed, for the hunting is not begun, and the fishing is not many

moons away. And again, of what profit should I die? I know the custom of thy people; thy share of my wealth

shall be very small. Grant me thy child, and it shall all be thine. And yet again, my brothers will come, and

they are many, and their maws are never filled; and the daughters of the Raven shall bear children in the

lodges of the Wolf. My people are greater than thy people. It is destiny. Grant, and all this wealth is thine.'

Moccasins were crunching the snow without. Mackenzie threw his rifle to cock, and loosened the twin Colts

'Grant, O Chief!' 'And yet will my people say no.' 'Grant, and the wealth is thine. Then shall I deal with thy

people after.' 'The Wolf will have it so. I will take his tokens,but I would warn him.' Mackenzie passed

over the goods, taking care to clog the rifle's ejector, and capping the bargain with a kaleidoscopic silk

kerchief. The Shaman and half a dozen young braves entered, but he shouldered boldly among them and

'Pack!' was his laconic greeting to Zarinska as he passed her lodge and hurried to harness his dogs. A few

minutes later he swept into the council at the head of the team, the woman by his side. He took his place at

the upper end of the oblong, by the side of the chief. To his left, a step to the rear, he stationed Zarinska,her

proper place. Besides, the time was ripe for mischief, and there was need to guard his back.

On either side, the men crouched to the fire, their voices lifted in a folkchant out of the forgotten past. Full

of strange, halting cadences and haunting recurrences, it was not beautiful. 'Fearful' may inadequately express

it. At the lower end, under the eye of the Shaman, danced half a score of women. Stern were his reproofs of

those who did not wholly abandon themselves to the ecstasy of the rite. Half hidden in their heavy masses of

raven hair, all dishevelled and falling to their waists, they slowly swayed to and fro, their forms rippling to an

It was a weird scene; an anachronism. To the south, the nineteenth century was reeling off the few years of its

last decade; here flourished man primeval, a shade removed from the prehistoric cavedweller, forgotten

fragment of the Elder World. The tawny wolf dogs sat between their skinclad masters or fought for room,

the firelight cast backward from their red eyes and dripping fangs. The woods, in ghostly shroud, slept on

The White Silence, for the moment driven to the rimming forest, seemed ever crushing inward; the stars

danced with great leaps, as is their wont in the time of the Great Cold; while the Spirits of the Pole trailed

'Scruff' Mackenzie dimly realized the wild grandeur of the setting as his eyes ranged down the furfringed

sides in quest of missing faces. They rested for a moment on a newborn babe, suckling at its mother's naked

breast. It was forty below,seven and odd degrees of frost. He thought of the tender women of his own race

and smiled grimly. Yet from the loins of some such tender woman had he sprung with a kingly

inheritance,an inheritance which gave to him and his dominance over the land and sea, over the animals

and the peoples of all the zones. Singlehanded against fivescore, girt by the Arctic winter, far from his own,

he felt the prompting of his heritage, the desire to possess, the wild dangerlove, the thrill of battle, the

Through the sinuosities of their vast mythology, he worked cunningly upon the credulity of his people. The

case was strong. Opposing the creative principles as embodied in the Crow and the Raven, he stigmatized

Mackenzie as the Wolf, the fighting and the destructive principle. Not only was the combat of these forces

spiritual, but men fought, each to his totem. They were the children of Jelchs, the Raven, the Promethean

fire bringer; Mackenzie was the child of the Wolf, or in other words, the Devil. For them to bring a truce to

this perpetual warfare, to marry their daughters to the archenemy, were treason and blasphemy of the

highest order. No phrase was harsh nor figure vile enough in branding Mackenzie as a sneaking interloper

and emissary of Satan. There was a subdued, savage roar in the deep chests of his listeners as he took the

'Aye, my brothers, Jelchs is allpowerful! Did he not bring heavenborne fire that we might be warm? Did he

not draw the sun, moon, and stars, from their holes that we might see? Did he not teach us that we might fight

the Spirits of Famine and of Frost? But now Jelchs is angry with his children, and they are grown to a

For they have forgotten him, and done evil things, and trod bad trails, and taken his enemies into their lodges

to sit by their fires. And the Raven is sorrowful at the wickedness of his children; but when they shall rise up

and show they have come back, he will come out of the darkness to aid them. O brothers! the FireBringer

has whispered messages to thy Shaman; the same shall ye hear. Let the young men take the young women to

their lodges; let them fly at the throat of the Wolf; let them be undying in their enmity! Then shall their

women become fruitful and they shall multiply into a mighty people! And the Raven shall lead great tribes of

their fathers and their fathers' fathers from out of the North; and they shall beat back the Wolves till they are

as last year's campfires; and they shall again come to rule over all the land! 'Tis the message of Jelchs, the

Raven.' This foreshadowing of the Messiah's coming brought a hoarse howl from the Sticks as they leaped to

their feet. Mackenzie slipped the thumbs of his mittens and waited. There was a clamor for the 'Fox,' not to be

'Brothers! The Shaman has spoken wisely. The Wolves have taken our women, and our men are childless.

We are grown to a handful. The Wolves have taken our warm furs and given for them evil spirits which dwell

in bottles, and clothes which come not from the beaver or the lynx, but are made from the grass.

And they are not warm, and our men die of strange sicknesses. I, the Fox, have taken no woman to wife; and

why? Twice have the maidens which pleased me gone to the camps of the Wolf. Even now have I laid by

skins of the beaver, of the moose, of the cariboo, that I might win favor in the eyes of ThlingTinneh, that I

might marry Zarinska, his daughter. Even now are her snowshoes bound to her feet, ready to break trail for

As I have done, so has the Bear. He, too, had fain been the father of her children, and many skins has he

cured thereto. I speak for all the young men who know not wives. The Wolves are ever hungry. Always do

'There is Gugkla,' he cried, brutally pointing out one of the women, who was a cripple.

'Her legs are bent like the ribs of a birch canoe. She cannot gather wood nor carry the meat of the hunters.

'There is Moyri, whose eyes are crossed by the Evil Spirit. Even the babes are affrighted when they gaze

'And there sits Pischet. She does not hearken to my words. Never has she heard the cry of the chitchat, the

She lives in the White Silence. Cared the Wolves aught for her? No! Theirs is the choice of the kill; ours is

'Brothers, it shall not be! No more shall the Wolves slink among our campfires. The time is come.' A great

streamer of fire, the aurora borealis, purple, green, and yellow, shot across the zenith, bridging horizon to

'Behold! The spirits of our fathers have arisen and great deeds are afoot this night!' He stepped back, and

another young man somewhat diffidently came forward, pushed on by his comrades. He towered a full head

above them, his broad chest defiantly bared to the frost. He swung tentatively from one foot to the other.

Words halted upon his tongue, and he was ill at ease. His face was horrible to look upon, for it had at one

time been half torn away by some terrific blow. At last he struck his breast with his clenched fist, drawing

sound as from a drum, and his voice rumbled forth as does the surf from an ocean cavern.

'I am the Bear,the SilverTip and the Son of the SilverTip! When my voice was yet as a girl's, I slew the

lynx, the moose, and the cariboo; when it whistled like the wolverines from under a cache, I crossed the

Mountains of the South and slew three of the White Rivers; when it became as the roar of the Chinook, I met

the baldfaced grizzly, but gave no trail.' At this he paused, his hand significantly sweeping across his

'I am not as the Fox. My tongue is frozen like the river. I cannot make great talk. My words are few. The Fox

says great deeds are afoot this night. Good! Talk flows from his tongue like the freshets of the spring, but he

This night shall I do battle with the Wolf. I shall slay him, and Zarinska shall sit by my fire. The Bear has

spoken.' Though pandemonium raged about him, 'Scruff' Mackenzie held his ground.

Aware how useless was the rifle at close quarters, he slipped both holsters to the fore, ready for action, and

drew his mittens till his hands were barely shielded by the elbow gauntlets. He knew there was no hope in

attack en masse, but true to his boast, was prepared to die with teeth fastlocked. But the Bear restrained his

comrades, beating back the more impetuous with his terrible fist. As the tumult began to die away,

Mackenzie shot a glance in the direction of Zarinska. It was a superb picture. She was leaning forward on her

snowshoes, lips apart and nostrils quivering, like a tigress about to spring. Her great black eyes were fixed

upon her tribesmen, in fear and defiance. So extreme the tension, she had forgotten to breathe. With one hand

pressed spasmodically against her breast and the other as tightly gripped about the dogwhip, she was as

turned to stone. Even as he looked, relief came to her. Her muscles loosened; with a heavy sigh she settled

ThlingTinneh was trying to speak, but his people drowned his voice. Then Mackenzie strode forward. The

Fox opened his mouth to a piercing yell, but so savagely did Mackenzie whirl upon him that he shrank back,

his larynx all agurgle with suppressed sound. His discomfiture was greeted with roars of laughter, and served

'Brothers! The White Man, whom ye have chosen to call the Wolf, came among you with fair words. He was

not like the Innuit; he spoke not lies. He came as a friend, as one who would be a brother. But your men have

First, I will tell you that the Shaman has an evil tongue and is a false prophet, that the messages he spake are

not those of the FireBringer. His ears are locked to the voice of the Raven, and out of his own head he

When the dogs were killed and eaten, and your stomachs were heavy with untanned hide and strips of

moccasins; when the old men died, and the old women died, and the babes at the dry dugs of the mothers

died; when the land was dark, and ye perished as do the salmon in the fall; aye, when the famine was upon

you, did the Shaman bring reward to your hunters? did the Shaman put meat in your bellies? Again I say, the

Shaman is without power. Thus I spit upon his face!' Though taken aback by the sacrilege, there was no

uproar. Some of the women were even frightened, but among the men there was an uplifting, as though in

preparation or anticipation of the miracle. All eyes were turned upon the two central figures. The priest

realized the crucial moment, felt his power tottering, opened his mouth in denunciation, but fled backward

before the truculent advance, upraised fist, and flashing eyes, of Mackenzie. He sneered and resumed.

Was I stricken dead? Did the lightning burn me? Did the stars fall from the sky and crush me? Pish! I have

done with the dog. Now will I tell you of my people, who are the mightiest of all the peoples, who rule in all

After that we hunt in packs; and at last, like the cariboorun, we sweep across all the land.

Those whom we take into our lodges live; those who will not come die. Zarinska is a comely maiden, full and

strong, fit to become the mother of Wolves. Though I die, such shall she become; for my brothers are many,

Listen to the Law of the Wolf: Whoso taketh the life of one Wolf, the forfeit shall ten of his people pay. In

'Now will I deal with the Fox and the Bear. It seems they have cast eyes upon the maiden. So? Behold, I have

bought her! ThlingTinneh leans upon the rifle; the goods of purchase are by his fire. Yet will I be fair to the

young men. To the Fox, whose tongue is dry with many words, will I give of tobacco five long plugs.

Thus will his mouth be wetted that he may make much noise in the council. But to the Bear, of whom I am

well proud, will I give of blankets two; of flour, twenty cups; of tobacco, double that of the Fox; and if he

fare with me over the Mountains of the East, then will I give him a rifle, mate to ThlingTinneh's. If not?

Good! The Wolf is weary of speech. Yet once again will he say the Law: Whoso taketh the life of one Wolf,

Mackenzie smiled as he stepped back to his old position, but at heart he was full of trouble. The night was yet

dark. The girl came to his side, and he listened closely as she told of the Bear's battletricks with the knife.

The decision was for war. In a trice, scores of moccasins were widening the space of beaten snow by the fire.

There was much chatter about the seeming defeat of the Shaman; some averred he had but withheld his

power, while others conned past events and agreed with the Wolf. The Bear came to the center of the

battleground, a long naked hunting knife of Russian make in his hand. The Fox called attention to

Mackenzie's revolvers; so he stripped his belt, buckling it about Zarinska, into whose hands he also entrusted

his rifle. She shook her head that she could not shoot,small chance had a woman to handle such precious

'Then, if danger come by my back, cry aloud, "My husband!" No; thus, "My husband!"'

He laughed as she repeated it, pinched her cheek, and reentered the circle. Not only in reach and stature had

the Bear the advantage of him, but his blade was longer by a good two inches. 'Scruff' Mackenzie had looked

into the eyes of men before, and he knew it was a man who stood against him; yet he quickened to the glint of

Time and again he was forced to the edge of the fire or the deep snow, and time and again, with the foot

tactics of the pugilist, he worked back to the center. Not a voice was lifted in encouragement, while his

antagonist was heartened with applause, suggestions, and warnings. But his teeth only shut the tighter as the

knives clashed together, and he thrust or eluded with a coolness born of conscious strength. At first he felt

compassion for his enemy; but this fled before the primal instinct of life, which in turn gave way to the lust of

slaughter. The ten thousand years of culture fell from him, and he was a cave dweller, doing battle for his

Twice he pricked the Bear, getting away unscathed; but the third time caught, and to save himself, free hands

Then did he realize the tremendous strength of his opponent. His muscles were knotted in painful lumps, and

cords and tendons threatened to snap with the strain; yet nearer and nearer came the Russian steel. He tried to

break away, but only weakened himself. The furclad circle closed in, certain of and anxious to see the final

stroke. But with wrestler's trick, swinging partly to the side, he struck at his adversary with his head.

Involuntarily the Bear leaned back, disturbing his center of gravity. Simultaneous with this, Mackenzie

tripped properly and threw his whole weight forward, hurling him clear through the circle into the deep snow.

To the twang of a bowstring, Mackenzie swept low to the ground, and a bonebarbed arrow passed over him

into the breast of the Bear, whose momentum carried him over his crouching foe. The next instant Mackenzie

was up and about. The bear lay motionless, but across the fire was the Shaman, drawing a second arrow.

Mackenzie's knife leaped short in the air. He caught the heavy blade by the point. There was a flash of light

as it spanned the fire. Then the Shaman, the hilt alone appearing without his throat, swayed and pitched

Click! Click!the Fox had possessed himself of ThlingTinneh's rifle and was vainly trying to throw a shell

'Thus, and thus; so the thing is done.' A shell flew into place and the trigger was at cock as Mackenzie

'The Fox has said great deeds were afoot this night, and he spoke true. There have been great deeds, yet least

among them were those of the Fox. Is he still intent to take Zarinska to his lodge? Is he minded to tread the

'Are any of the young men so minded? If so, the Wolf will take them by two and three till none are left. No?

Good! ThlingTinneh, I now give thee this rifle a second time. If, in the days to come, thou shouldst journey

to the Country of the Yukon, know thou that there shall always be a place and much food by the fire of the

Wolf. The night is now passing into the day. I go, but I may come again. And for the last time, remember the

Law of the Wolf!' He was supernatural in their sight as he rejoined Zarinska. She took her place at the head of

the team, and the dogs swung into motion. A few moments later they were swallowed up by the ghostly

'Has the Wolf forgotten the five long plugs?' Mackenzie turned upon the Fox angrily; then the humor of it

'I will give thee one short plug.' 'As the Wolf sees fit,' meekly responded the Fox, stretching out his hand.

When Big Jim Belden ventured the apparently innocuous proposition that mushice was 'rather pecooliar,' he

Neither did Lon McFane, when he affirmed that anchorice was even more so; nor did Bettles, as he instantly

'An' ye'd be tellin' me this,' cried Lon, 'after the years ye've spint in the land! An' we atin' out the same pot

'Look you, water's warmer than ice' 'An' little the difference, once ye break through.'

'Still it's warmer, because it ain't froze. An' you say it freezes on the bottom?' 'Only the anchorice, David,

only the anchorice. An' have ye niver drifted along, the water clear as glass, whin suddin, belike a cloud

over the sun, the mushyice comes bubblin' up an' up till from bank to bank an' bind to bind it's drapin' the

river like a first snowfall?' 'Unh, hunh! more'n once when I took a doze at the steeringoar. But it allus come

out the nighest sidechannel, an' not bubblin' up an' up.' 'But with niver a wink at the helm?'

'No; nor you. It's agin reason. I'll leave it to any man!' Bettles appealed to the circle about the stove, but the

'Reason or no reason, it's the truth I'm tellin' ye. Last fall, a year gone, 'twas Sitka Charley and meself saw the

sight, droppin' down the riffle ye'll remember below Fort Reliance. An' regular fall weather it wasthe glint

o' the sun on the golden larch an' the quakin' aspens; an' the glister of light on ivery ripple; an' beyand, the

winter an' the blue haze of the North comin' down hand in hand. It's well ye know the same, with a fringe to

the river an' the ice formin' thick in the eddiesan' a snap an' sparkle to the air, an' ye a feelin' it through all

yer blood, atakin' new lease of life with ivery suck of it. 'Tis then, me boy, the world grows small an' the

'But it's meself as wandthers. As I was sayin', we apaddlin', with niver a sign of ice, barrin' that by the

Look ye below!" So have I heard, but niver thought to see! As ye know, Sitka Charley, like meself, niver

drew first breath in the land; so the sight was new. Then we drifted, with a head over ayther side, peerin'

down through the sparkly water. For the world like the days I spint with the pearlers, watchin' the coral banks

There it was, the anchorice, clingin' an' clusterin' to ivery rock, after the manner of the white coral.

'But the best of the sight was to come. Just after clearin' the tail of the riffle, the water turns quick the color of

milk, an' the top of it in wee circles, as when the graylin' rise in the spring, or there's a splatter of wet from the

sky. 'Twas the anchorice comin' up. To the right, to the lift, as far as iver a man cud see, the water was

An' like so much porridge it was, slickin' along the bark of the canoe, stickin' like glue to the paddles. It's

many's the time I shot the selfsame riffle before, and it's many's the time after, but niver a wink of the same

have I seen. 'Twas the sight of a lifetime.' 'Do tell!' dryly commented Bettles. 'D'ye think I'd b'lieve such a

yarn? I'd ruther say the glister of light'd gone to your eyes, and the snap of the air to your tongue.' ''Twas me

own eyes that beheld it, an' if Sitka Charley was here, he'd be the lad to back me.' 'But facts is facts, an' they

ain't no gettin' round 'em. It ain't in the nature of things for the water furtherest away from the air to freeze

first.' 'But me own eyes' 'Don't git het up over it,' admonished Bettles, as the quick Celtic anger began to

'Then yer not after belavin' me?' 'Sence you're so blamed forehanded about it, no; I'd b'lieve nature first, and

'Is it the lie ye'd be givin' me?' threatened Lon. 'Ye'd better be askin' that Siwash wife of yours. I'll lave it to

her, for the truth I spake.' Bettles flared up in sudden wrath. The Irishman had unwittingly wounded him; for

his wife was the halfbreed daughter of a Russian furtrader, married to him in the Greek Mission of Nulato,

a thousand miles or so down the Yukon, thus being of much higher caste than the common Siwash, or native,

wife. It was a mere Northland nuance, which none but the Northland adventurer may understand.

The next instant Lon McFane had stretched him on the floor, the circle was broken up, and half a dozen men

Bettles came to his feet, wiping the blood from his mouth. 'It hain't new, this takin' and payin' of blows, and

don't you never think but that this will be squared.' 'An' niver in me life did I take the lie from mortal man,'

was the retort courteous. 'An' it's an avil day I'll not be to hand, waitin' an' willin' to help ye lift yer debts,

'But you'd better git a more likely caliber. Mine'll rip holes through you the size of walnuts.'

'Niver fear; it's me own slugs smell their way with soft noses, an' they'll spread like flapjacks against the

coming out beyand. An' when'll I have the pleasure of waitin' on ye? The waterhole's a strikin' locality.'

''Tain't bad. Jest be there in an hour, and you won't set long on my coming.' Both men mittened and left the

Post, their ears closed to the remonstrances of their comrades. It was such a little thing; yet with such men,

little things, nourished by quick tempers and stubborn natures, soon blossomed into big things.

Besides, the art of burning to bedrock still lay in the womb of the future, and the men of FortyMile, shut in

by the long Arctic winter, grew highstomached with overeating and enforced idleness, and became as

irritable as do the bees in the fall of the year when the hives are overstocked with honey.

There was no law in the land. The mounted police was also a thing of the future. Each man measured an

Rarely had combined action been necessary, and never in all the dreary history of the camp had the eighth

Big Jim Belden called an impromptu meeting. Scruff Mackenzie was placed as temporary chairman, and a

messenger dispatched to solicit Father Roubeau's good offices. Their position was paradoxical, and they

knew it. By the right of might could they interfere to prevent the duel; yet such action, while in direct line

with their wishes, went counter to their opinions. While their roughhewn, obsolete ethics recognized the

individual prerogative of wiping out blow with blow, they could not bear to think of two good comrades,

such as Bettles and McFane, meeting in deadly battle. Deeming the man who would not fight on provocation

But a scurry of moccasins and loud cries, rounded off with a pistolshot, interrupted the discussion. Then the

stormdoors opened and Malemute Kid entered, a smoking Colt's in his hand, and a merry light in his eye.

'I got him.' He replaced the empty shell, and added, 'Your dog, Scruff.' 'Yellow Fang?'

'No; the lopeared one.' 'The devil! Nothing the matter with him.' 'Come out and take a look.' 'That's all right

after all. Buess he's got 'em, too. Yellow Fang came back this morning and took a chunk out of him, and

Made a rush for Zarinska, but she whisked her skirts in his face and escaped with the loss of the same and a

Hope he don't come back. Lost any yourself?' 'Onethe best one of the packShookum.

Started amuck this morning, but didn't get very far. Ran foul of Sitka Charley's team, and they scattered him

all over the street. And now two of them are loose, and raging mad; so you see he got his work in. The dog

'And the man census, too.' 'How's that? Who's in trouble now?' 'Oh, Bettles and Lon McFane had an

argument, and they'll be down by the waterhole in a few minutes to settle it.' The incident was repeated for

his benefit, and Malemute Kid, accustomed to an obedience which his fellow men never failed to render, took

charge of the affair. His quickly formulated plan was explained, and they promised to follow his lead

'So you see,' he concluded, 'we do not actually take away their privilege of fighting; and yet I don't believe

they'll fight when they see the beauty of the scheme. Life's a game and men the gamblers. They'll stake their

Take away that one chance, andthey won't play.' He turned to the man in charge of the Post. 'Storekeeper,

'We'll establish a precedent which will last the men of FortyMile to the end of time,' he prophesied. Then he

coiled the rope about his arm and led his followers out of doors, just in time to meet the principals.

'What danged right'd he to fetch my wife in?' thundered Bettles to the soothing overtures of a friend. ''Twa'n't

called for,' he concluded decisively. ''Twa'n't called for,' he reiterated again and again, pacing up and down

And Lon McFanehis face was hot and tongue rapid as he flaunted insurrection in the face of the Church.

'Then, father,' he cried, 'it's with an aisy heart I'll roll in me flamy blankets, the broad of me back on a bed of

coals. Niver shall it be said that Lon McFane took a lie 'twixt the teeth without iver liftin' a hand! An' I'll not

ask a blessin'. The years have been wild, but it's the heart was in the right place.' 'But it's not the heart, Lon,'

interposed Father Roubeau; 'It's pride that bids you forth to slay your fellow man.' 'Yer Frinch,' Lon replied.

And then, turning to leave him, 'An' will ye say a mass if the luck is against me?' But the priest smiled, thrust

his moccasined feet to the fore, and went out upon the white breast of the silent river. A packed trail, the

width of a sixteeninch sled, led out to the waterhole. On either side lay the deep, soft snow. The men trod in

single file, without conversation; and the blackstoled priest in their midst gave to the function the solemn

aspect of a funeral. It was a warm winter's day for FortyMilea day in which the sky, filled with heaviness,

drew closer to the earth, and the mercury sought the unwonted level of twenty below. But there was no cheer

in the warmth. There was little air in the upper strata, and the clouds hung motionless, giving sullen promise

of an early snowfall. And the earth, unresponsive, made no preparation, content in its hibernation.

When the waterhole was reached, Bettles, having evidently reviewed the quarrel during the silent walk, burst

out in a final ''Twa'n't called for,' while Lon McFane kept grim silence. Indignation so choked him that he

Yet deep down, whenever their own wrongs were not uppermost, both men wondered at their comrades. They

had expected opposition, and this tacit acquiescence hurt them. It seemed more was due them from the men

they had been so close with, and they felt a vague sense of wrong, rebelling at the thought of so many of their

brothers coming out, as on a gala occasion, without one word of protest, to see them shoot each other down.

It appeared their worth had diminished in the eyes of the community. The proceedings puzzled them.

'Back to back, David. An' will it be fifty paces to the man, or double the quantity?'

But the new manila, not prominently displayed, but casually coiled about Malemute Kid's arm, caught the

'An' what are ye doin' with the rope?' 'Hurry up!' Malemute Kid glanced at his watch.

'I've a batch of bread in the cabin, and I don't want it to fall. Besides, my feet are getting cold.' The rest of the

'But the rope, Kid' It's bran' new, an' sure yer bread's not that heavy it needs raisin' with the like of that?'

Bettles by this time had faced around. Father Roubeau, the humor of the situation just dawning on him, hid a

'No, Lon; this rope was made for a man.' Malemute Kid could be very impressive on occasion.

'The other man.' 'An' which is the one ye'd mane by that?' 'Listen, Lonand you, too, Bettles! We've been

talking this little trouble of yours over, and we've come to one conclusion. We know we have no right to stop

your fighting' 'True for ye, me lad!' 'And we're not going to. But this much we can do, and shall domake

this the only duel in the history of FortyMile, set an example for every chechaqua that comes up or down

the Yukon. The man who escapes killing shall be hanged to the nearest tree. Now, go ahead!'

Lon smiled dubiously, then his face lighted up. 'Pace her off, Davidfifty paces, wheel, an' niver a cease

firin' till a lad's down for good. 'Tis their hearts'll niver let them do the deed, an' it's well ye should know it for

'Lon! It's a long while since you first knew me?' 'Many's the day.' 'And you, Bettles?'

'Five year next June high water.' 'And have you once, in all that time, known me to break my word' Or heard

of me breaking it?' Both men shook their heads, striving to fathom what lay beyond.

'Well, then, what do you think of a promise made by me?' 'As good as your bond,' from Bettles.

'The thing to safely sling yer hopes of heaven by,' promptly endorsed Lon McFane.

'Listen! I, Malemute Kid, give you my wordand you know what that meansthat the man who is not shot

stretches rope within ten minutes after the shooting.' He stepped back as Pilate might have done after washing

A pause and a silence came over the men of FortyMile. The sky drew still closer, sending down a crystal

flight of frostlittle geometric designs, perfect, evanescent as a breath, yet destined to exist till the returning

Both men had led forlorn hopes in their timeled with a curse or a jest on their tongues, and in their souls an

unswerving faith in the God of Chance. But that merciful deity had been shut out from the present deal. They

studied the face of Malemute Kid, but they studied as one might the Sphinx. As the quiet minutes passed, a

feeling that speech was incumbent on them began to grow. At last the howl of a wolfdog cracked the silence

from the direction of FortyMile. The weird sound swelled with all the pathos of a breaking heart, then died

'Well I be danged!' Bettles turned up the collar of his mackinaw jacket and stared about him helplessly.

'It's a gloryus game yer runnin', Kid,' cried Lon McFane. 'All the percentage of the house an' niver a bit to the

man that's buckin'. The Devil himself'd niver tackle such a cinchand damned if I do.' There were chuckles,

throttled in gurgling throats, and winks brushed away with the frost which rimed the eyelashes, as the men

climbed the ice notched bank and started across the street to the Post. But the long howl had drawn nearer,

invested with a new note of menace. A woman screamed round the corner. There was a cry of, 'Here he

comes!' Then an Indian boy, at the head of half a dozen frightened dogs, racing with death, dashed into the

crowd. And behind came Yellow Fang, a bristle of hair and a flash of gray. Everybody but the Yankee fled.

The Indian boy had tripped and fallen. Bettles stopped long enough to grip him by the slack of his furs, then

headed for a pile of cordwood already occupied by a number of his comrades. Yellow Fang, doubling after

one of the dogs, came leaping back. The fleeing animal, free of the rabies, but crazed with fright, whipped

Bettles off his feet and flashed on up the street. Malemute Kid took a flying shot at Yellow Fang. The mad

dog whirled a half airspring, came down on his back, then, with a single leap, covered half the distance

But the fatal spring was intercepted. Lon McFane leaped from the woodpile, countering him in midair. Over

they rolled, Lon holding him by the throat at arm's length, blinking under the fetid slaver which sprayed his

face. Then Bettles, revolver in hand and coolly waiting a chance, settled the combat.

''Twas a square game, Kid,' Lon remarked, rising to his feet and shaking the snow from out his sleeves; 'with

a fair percentage to meself that bucked it.' That night, while Lon McFane sought the forgiving arms of the

Church in the direction of Father Roubeau's cabin, Malemute Kid talked long to little purpose.

'But would you,' persisted Mackenzie, 'supposing they had fought?' 'Have I ever broken my word?' 'No; but

that isn't the point. Answer the question. Would you?' Malemute Kid straightened up. 'Scruff, I've been

When a man journeys into a far country, he must be prepared to forget many of the things he has learned, and

to acquire such customs as are inherent with existence in the new land; he must abandon the old ideals and

the old gods, and oftentimes he must reverse the very codes by which his conduct has hitherto been shaped.

To those who have the protean faculty of adaptability, the novelty of such change may even be a source of

pleasure; but to those who happen to be hardened to the ruts in which they were created, the pressure of the

altered environment is unbearable, and they chafe in body and in spirit under the new restrictions which they

do not understand. This chafing is bound to act and react, producing divers evils and leading to various

misfortunes. It were better for the man who cannot fit himself to the new groove to return to his own country;

The man who turns his back upon the comforts of an elder civilization, to face the savage youth, the

primordial simplicity of the North, may estimate success at an inverse ratio to the quantity and quality of his

hopelessly fixed habits. He will soon discover, if he be a fit candidate, that the material habits are the less

important. The exchange of such things as a dainty menu for rough fare, of the stiff leather shoe for the soft,

shapeless moccasin, of the feather bed for a couch in the snow, is after all a very easy matter. But his pinch

will come in learning properly to shape his mind's attitude toward all things, and especially toward his fellow

man. For the courtesies of ordinary life, he must substitute unselfishness, forbearance, and tolerance. Thus,

and thus only, can he gain that pearl of great pricetrue comradeship. He must not say 'thank you'; he must

mean it without opening his mouth, and prove it by responding in kind. In short, he must substitute the deed

When the world rang with the tale of Arctic gold, and the lure of the North gripped the heartstrings of men,

Carter Weatherbee threw up his snug clerkship, turned the half of his savings over to his wife, and with the

remainder bought an outfit. There was no romance in his naturethe bondage of commerce had crushed all

that; he was simply tired of the ceaseless grind, and wished to risk great hazards in view of corresponding

returns. Like many another fool, disdaining the old trails used by the Northland pioneers for a score of years,

he hurried to Edmonton in the spring of the year; and there, unluckily for his soul's welfare, he allied himself

There was nothing unusual about this party, except its plans. Even its goal, like that of all the other parties,

was the Klondike. But the route it had mapped out to attain that goal took away the breath of the hardiest

native, born and bred to the vicissitudes of the Northwest. Even Jacques Baptiste, born of a Chippewa woman

and a renegade voyageur (having raised his first whimpers in a deerskin lodge north of the sixtyfifth

parallel, and had the same hushed by blissful sucks of raw tallow), was surprised. Though he sold his services

to them and agreed to travel even to the neveropening ice, he shook his head ominously whenever his

Percy Cuthfert's evil star must have been in the ascendant, for he, too, joined this company of argonauts. He

was an ordinary man, with a bank account as deep as his culture, which is saying a good deal. He had no

reason to embark on such a ventureno reason in the world save that he suffered from an abnormal

development of sentimentality. He mistook this for the true spirit of romance and adventure. Many another

The first breakup of spring found the party following the icerun of Elk River. It was an imposing fleet, for

the outfit was large, and they were accompanied by a disreputable contingent of halfbreed voyageurs with

their women and children. Day in and day out, they labored with the bateaux and canoes, fought mosquitoes

and other kindred pests, or sweated and swore at the portages. Severe toil like this lays a man naked to the

very roots of his soul, and ere Lake Athabasca was lost in the south, each member of the party had hoisted his

The two shirks and chronic grumblers were Carter Weatherbee and Percy Cuthfert. The whole party

complained less of its aches and pains than did either of them. Not once did they volunteer for the thousand

and one petty duties of the camp. A bucket of water to be brought, an extra armful of wood to be chopped, the

dishes to be washed and wiped, a search to be made through the outfit for some suddenly indispensable

articleand these two effete scions of civilization discovered sprains or blisters requiring instant attention.

They were the first to turn in at night, with score of tasks yet undone; the last to turn out in the morning,

They were the first to fall to at mealtime, the last to have a hand in the cooking; the first to dive for a slim

delicacy, the last to discover they had added to their own another man's share. If they toiled at the oars, they

slyly cut the water at each stroke and allowed the boat's momentum to float up the blade. They thought

nobody noticed; but their comrades swore under their breaths and grew to hate them, while Jacques Baptiste

sneered openly and damned them from morning till night. But Jacques Baptiste was no gentleman.

At the Great Slave, Hudson Bay dogs were purchased, and the fleet sank to the guards with its added burden

of dried fish and pemican. Then canoe and bateau answered to the swift current of the Mackenzie, and they

plunged into the Great Barren Ground. Every likelylooking 'feeder' was prospected, but the elusive

'paydirt' danced ever to the north. At the Great Bear, overcome by the common dread of the Unknown

Lands, their voyageurs began to desert, and Fort of Good Hope saw the last and bravest bending to the

towlines as they bucked the current down which they had so treacherously glided.

Jacques Baptiste alone remained. Had he not sworn to travel even to the neveropening ice? The lying charts,

And they felt the need of hurry, for the sun had already passed its northern solstice and was leading the winter

south again. Skirting the shores of the bay, where the Mackenzie disembogues into the Arctic Ocean, they

entered the mouth of the Little Peel River. Then began the arduous upstream toil, and the two Incapables

fared worse than ever. Towline and pole, paddle and tumpline, rapids and portagessuch tortures served to

give the one a deep disgust for great hazards, and printed for the other a fiery text on the true romance of

adventure. One day they waxed mutinous, and being vilely cursed by Jacques Baptiste, turned, as worms

sometimes will. But the halfbreed thrashed the twain, and sent them, bruised and bleeding, about their work.

Abandoning their river craft at the headwaters of the Little Peel, they consumed the rest of the summer in the

great portage over the Mackenzie watershed to the West Rat. This little stream fed the Porcupine, which in

turn joined the Yukon where that mighty highway of the North countermarches on the Arctic Circle.

But they had lost in the race with winter, and one day they tied their rafts to the thick eddyice and hurried

their goods ashore. That night the river jammed and broke several times; the following morning it had fallen

asleep for good. 'We can't be more'n four hundred miles from the Yukon,' concluded Sloper, multiplying his

thumb nails by the scale of the map. The council, in which the two Incapables had whined to excellent

'Hudson Bay Post, long time ago. No use um now.' Jacques Baptiste's father had made the trip for the Fur

Company in the old days, incidentally marking the trail with a couple of frozen toes.

Sufferin' cracky!' cried another of the party. 'No whites?' 'Nary white,' Sloper sententiously affirmed; 'but it's

only five hundred more up the Yukon to Dawson. Call it a rough thousand from here.' Weatherbee and

'How long'll that take, Baptiste?' The halfbreed figured for a moment. 'Workum like hell, no man play out,

tentwentyfortyfifty days. Um babies come' (designating the Incapables), 'no can tell. Mebbe when hell

freeze over; mebbe not then.' The manufacture of snowshoes and moccasins ceased. Somebody called the

name of an absent member, who came out of an ancient cabin at the edge of the campfire and joined them.

The cabin was one of the many mysteries which lurk in the vast recesses of the North. Built when and by

Two graves in the open, piled high with stones, perhaps contained the secret of those early wanderers. But

whose hand had piled the stones? The moment had come. Jacques Baptiste paused in the fitting of a harness

and pinned the struggling dog in the snow. The cook made mute protest for delay, threw a handful of bacon

into a noisy pot of beans, then came to attention. Sloper rose to his feet. His body was a ludicrous contrast to

the healthy physiques of the Incapables. Yellow and weak, fleeing from a South American feverhole, he had

not broken his flight across the zones, and was still able to toil with men. His weight was probably ninety

pounds, with the heavy hunting knife thrown in, and his grizzled hair told of a prime which had ceased to be.

The fresh young muscles of either Weatherbee or Cuthfert were equal to ten times the endeavor of his; yet he

could walk them into the earth in a day's journey. And all this day he had whipped his stronger comrades into

venturing a thousand miles of the stiffest hardship man can conceive. He was the incarnation of the unrest of

his race, and the old Teutonic stubbornness, dashed with the quick grasp and action of the Yankee, held the

'All those in favor of going on with the dogs as soon as the ice sets, say ay.' 'Ay!' rang out eight

voicesvoices destined to string a trail of oaths along many a hundred miles of pain.

'Contrary minded?' 'No!' For the first time the Incapables were united without some compromise of personal

'I know the expedition is liable to fall through if you don't come,' Sloper replied sweetly; 'but I guess, if we

'But I say, you know,' Cuthfert ventured apprehensively; 'what's a chap like me to do?'

'Ain't you coming with us.' 'Noo.' 'Then do as you damn well please. We won't have nothing to say.' 'Kind

o' calkilate yuh might settle it with that canoodlin' pardner of yourn,' suggested a heavygoing Westerner

from the Dakotas, at the same time pointing out Weatherbee. 'He'll be shore to ask yuh what yur agoin' to do

when it comes to cookin' an' gatherin' the wood.' 'Then we'll consider it all arranged,' concluded Sloper.

'We'll pull out tomorrow, if we camp within five milesjust to get everything in running order and

remember if we've forgotten anything.' The sleds groaned by on their steel shod runners, and the dogs

Jacques Baptiste paused by the side of Sloper to get a last glimpse of the cabin. The smoke curled up

pathetically from the Yukon stovepipe. The two Incapables were watching them from the doorway.

'Jacques Baptiste, did you ever hear of the Kilkenny cats?' The halfbreed shook his head.

'Well, my friend and good comrade, the Kilkenny cats fought till neither hide, nor hair, nor yowl, was left.

Now, these two men don't like work. They'll be all alone in that cabin all wintera mighty long, dark winter.

Kilkenny catswell?' The Frenchman in Baptiste shrugged his shoulders, but the Indian in him was silent.

Nevertheless, it was an eloquent shrug, pregnant with prophecy. Things prospered in the little cabin at first.

The rough badinage of their comrades had made Weatherbee and Cuthfert conscious of the mutual

responsibility which had devolved upon them; besides, there was not so much work after all for two healthy

men. And the removal of the cruel whiphand, or in other words the bulldozing halfbreed, had brought with

it a joyous reaction. At first, each strove to outdo the other, and they performed petty tasks with an unction

which would have opened the eyes of their comrades who were now wearing out bodies and souls on the

All care was banished. The forest, which shouldered in upon them from three sides, was an inexhaustible

woodyard. A few yards from their door slept the Porcupine, and a hole through its winter robe formed a

bubbling spring of water, crystal clear and painfully cold. But they soon grew to find fault with even that. The

hole would persist in freezing up, and thus gave them many a miserable hour of icechopping. The unknown

builders of the cabin had extended the sidelogs so as to support a cache at the rear. In this was stored the bulk

Food there was, without stint, for three times the men who were fated to live upon it. But the most of it was

True, there was sugar in plenty for two ordinary men; but these two were little else than children. They early

discovered the virtues of hot water judiciously saturated with sugar, and they prodigally swam their flapjacks

Then coffee and tea, and especially the dried fruits, made disastrous inroads upon it. The first words they had

were over the sugar question. And it is a really serious thing when two men, wholly dependent upon each

Weatherbee loved to discourse blatantly on politics, while Cuthfert, who had been prone to clip his coupons

and let the commonwealth jog on as best it might, either ignored the subject or delivered himself of startling

epigrams. But the clerk was too obtuse to appreciate the clever shaping of thought, and this waste of

He had been used to blinding people by his brilliancy, and it worked him quite a hardship, this loss of an

audience. He felt personally aggrieved and unconsciously held his muttonhead companion responsible for it.

Weatherbee was a clerk who had known naught but clerking all his life; Cuthfert was a master of arts, a

dabbler in oils, and had written not a little. The one was a lowerclass man who considered himself a

gentleman, and the other was a gentleman who knew himself to be such. From this it may be remarked that a

man can be a gentleman without possessing the first instinct of true comradeship. The clerk was as sensuous

as the other was aesthetic, and his love adventures, told at great length and chiefly coined from his

imagination, affected the supersensitive master of arts in the same way as so many whiffs of sewer gas. He

deemed the clerk a filthy, uncultured brute, whose place was in the muck with the swine, and told him so; and

he was reciprocally informed that he was a milkandwater sissy and a cad. Weatherbee could not have

defined 'cad' for his life; but it satisfied its purpose, which after all seems the main point in life.

Weatherbee flatted every third note and sang such songs as 'The Boston Burglar' and 'the Handsome Cabin

Boy,' for hours at a time, while Cuthfert wept with rage, till he could stand it no longer and fled into the outer

cold. But there was no escape. The intense frost could not be endured for long at a time, and the little cabin

crowded thembeds, stove, table, and allinto a space of ten by twelve. The very presence of either

became a personal affront to the other, and they lapsed into sullen silences which increased in length and

strength as the days went by. Occasionally, the flash of an eye or the curl of a lip got the better of them,

And a great wonder sprang up in the breast of each, as to how God had ever come to create the other.

With little to do, time became an intolerable burden to them. This naturally made them still lazier. They sank

into a physical lethargy which there was no escaping, and which made them rebel at the performance of the

smallest chore. One morning when it was his turn to cook the common breakfast, Weatherbee rolled out of

his blankets, and to the snoring of his companion, lighted first the slush lamp and then the fire. The kettles

were frozen hard, and there was no water in the cabin with which to wash. But he did not mind that. Waiting

for it to thaw, he sliced the bacon and plunged into the hateful task of breadmaking. Cuthfert had been slyly

Consequently there was a scene, in which they fervently blessed each other, and agreed, henceforth, that each

do his own cooking. A week later, Cuthfert neglected his morning ablutions, but none the less complacently

ate the meal which he had cooked. Weatherbee grinned. After that the foolish custom of washing passed out

As the sugarpile and other little luxuries dwindled, they began to be afraid they were not getting their proper

shares, and in order that they might not be robbed, they fell to gorging themselves. The luxuries suffered in

In the absence of fresh vegetables and exercise, their blood became impoverished, and a loathsome, purplish

Next, their muscles and joints began to swell, the flesh turning black, while their mouths, gums, and lips took

on the color of rich cream. Instead of being drawn together by their misery, each gloated over the other's

They lost all regard for personal appearance, and for that matter, common decency. The cabin became a

pigpen, and never once were the beds made or fresh pine boughs laid underneath. Yet they could not keep to

their blankets, as they would have wished; for the frost was inexorable, and the fire box consumed much fuel.

The hair of their heads and faces grew long and shaggy, while their garments would have disgusted a

ragpicker. But they did not care. They were sick, and there was no one to see; besides, it was very painful to

To all this was added a new troublethe Fear of the North. This Fear was the joint child of the Great Cold

and the Great Silence, and was born in the darkness of December, when the sun dipped below the horizon for

Weatherbee fell prey to the grosser superstitions, and did his best to resurrect the spirits which slept in the

forgotten graves. It was a fascinating thing, and in his dreams they came to him from out of the cold, and

snuggled into his blankets, and told him of their toils and troubles ere they died. He shrank away from the

clammy contact as they drew closer and twined their frozen limbs about him, and when they whispered in his

ear of things to come, the cabin rang with his frightened shrieks. Cuthfert did not understand for they no

longer spokeand when thus awakened he invariably grabbed for his revolver. Then he would sit up in bed,

shivering nervously, with the weapon trained on the unconscious dreamer. Cuthfert deemed the man going

His own malady assumed a less concrete form. The mysterious artisan who had laid the cabin, log by log, had

pegged a windvane to the ridgepole. Cuthfert noticed it always pointed south, and one day, irritated by its

steadfastness of purpose, he turned it toward the east. He watched eagerly, but never a breath came by to

disturb it. Then he turned the vane to the north, swearing never again to touch it till the wind did blow. But

the air frightened him with its unearthly calm, and he often rose in the middle of the night to see if the vane

had veeredten degrees would have satisfied him. But no, it poised above him as unchangeable as fate.

His imagination ran riot, till it became to him a fetish. Sometimes he followed the path it pointed across the

dismal dominions, and allowed his soul to become saturated with the Fear. He dwelt upon the unseen and the

unknown till the burden of eternity appeared to be crushing him. Everything in the Northland had that

crushing effectthe absence of life and motion; the darkness; the infinite peace of the brooding land; the

ghastly silence, which made the echo of each heartbeat a sacrilege; the solemn forest which seemed to guard

an awful, inexpressible something, which neither word nor thought could compass.

The world he had so recently left, with its busy nations and great enterprises, seemed very far away.

Recollections occasionally obtrudedrecollections of marts and galleries and crowded thoroughfares, of

evening dress and social functions, of good men and dear women he had knownbut they were dim

memories of a life he had lived long centuries agone, on some other planet. This phantasm was the Reality.

Standing beneath the wind vane, his eyes fixed on the polar skies, he could not bring himself to realize that

the Southland really existed, that at that very moment it was aroar with life and action.

There was no Southland, no men being born of women, no giving and taking in marriage.

Beyond his bleak skyline there stretched vast solitudes, and beyond these still vaster solitudes.

There were no lands of sunshine, heavy with the perfume of flowers. Such things were only old dreams of

paradise. The sunlands of the West and the spicelands of the East, the smiling Arcadias and blissful Islands of

the Blestha! ha! His laughter split the void and shocked him with its unwonted sound. There was no sun.

This was the Universe, dead and cold and dark, and he its only citizen. Weatherbee? At such moments

Weatherbee did not count. He was a Caliban, a monstrous phantom, fettered to him for untold ages, the

He lived with Death among the dead, emasculated by the sense of his own insignificance, crushed by the

passive mastery of the slumbering ages. The magnitude of all things appalled him. Everything partook of the

superlative save himselfthe perfect cessation of wind and motion, the immensity of the snowcovered

wildness, the height of the sky and the depth of the silence. That windvaneif it would only move. If a

The rolling up of the heavens as a scroll, the crash of Doomanything, anything! But no, nothing moved;

the Silence crowded in, and the Fear of the North laid icy fingers on his heart.

Once, like another Crusoe, by the edge of the river he came upon a trackthe faint tracery of a snowshoe

There was life in the Northland. He would follow it, look upon it, gloat over it.

He forgot his swollen muscles, plunging through the deep snow in an ecstasy of anticipation. The forest

swallowed him up, and the brief midday twilight vanished; but he pursued his quest till exhausted nature

There he groaned and cursed his folly, and knew the track to be the fancy of his brain; and late that night he

dragged himself into the cabin on hands and knees, his cheeks frozen and a strange numbness about his feet.

Weatherbee grinned malevolently, but made no offer to help him. He thrust needles into his toes and thawed

But the clerk had his own troubles. The dead men came out of their graves more frequently now, and rarely

left him, waking or sleeping. He grew to wait and dread their coming, never passing the twin cairns without a

shudder. One night they came to him in his sleep and led him forth to an appointed task. Frightened into

inarticulate horror, he awoke between the heaps of stones and fled wildly to the cabin. But he had lain there

Sometimes he became frantic at their insistent presence, and danced about the cabin, cutting the empty air

During these ghostly encounters, Cuthfert huddled into his blankets and followed the madman about with a

But, recovering from one of these spells, the clerk noticed the weapon trained upon him.

His suspicions were aroused, and thenceforth he, too, lived in fear of his life. They watched each other

closely after that, and faced about in startled fright whenever either passed behind the other's back. The

apprehensiveness became a mania which controlled them even in their sleep. Through mutual fear they tacitly

let the slushlamp burn all night, and saw to a plentiful supply of bacongrease before retiring. The slightest

movement on the part of one was sufficient to arouse the other, and many a still watch their gazes countered

What with the Fear of the North, the mental strain, and the ravages of the disease, they lost all semblance of

humanity, taking on the appearance of wild beasts, hunted and desperate. Their cheeks and noses, as an

Their frozen toes had begun to drop away at the first and second joints. Every movement brought pain, but

the fire box was insatiable, wringing a ransom of torture from their miserable bodies. Day in, day out, it

demanded its fooda veritable pound of fleshand they dragged themselves into the forest to chop wood

on their knees. Once, crawling thus in search of dry sticks, unknown to each other they entered a thicket from

Suddenly, without warning, two peering death'sheads confronted each other. Suffering had so transformed

them that recognition was impossible. They sprang to their feet, shrieking with terror, and dashed away on

their mangled stumps; and falling at the cabin's door, they clawed and scratched like demons till they

Occasionally they lapsed normal, and during one of these sane intervals, the chief bone of contention, the

sugar, had been divided equally between them. They guarded their separate sacks, stored up in the cache,

with jealous eyes; for there were but a few cupfuls left, and they were totally devoid of faith in each other.

But one day Cuthfert made a mistake. Hardly able to move, sick with pain, with his head swimming and eyes

blinded, he crept into the cache, sugar canister in hand, and mistook Weatherbee's sack for his own.

January had been born but a few days when this occurred. The sun had some time since passed its lowest

southern declination, and at meridian now threw flaunting streaks of yellow light upon the northern sky. On

the day following his mistake with the sugarbag, Cuthfert found himself feeling better, both in body and in

spirit. As noontime drew near and the day brightened, he dragged himself outside to feast on the evanescent

glow, which was to him an earnest of the sun's future intentions. Weatherbee was also feeling somewhat

better, and crawled out beside him. They propped themselves in the snow beneath the moveless windvane,

The stillness of death was about them. In other climes, when nature falls into such moods, there is a subdued

air of expectancy, a waiting for some small voice to take up the broken strain. Not so in the North. The two

They could remember no song of the past; they could conjure no song of the future. This unearthly calm had

Their eyes were fixed upon the north. Unseen, behind their backs, behind the towering mountains to the

south, the sun swept toward the zenith of another sky than theirs. Sole spectators of the mighty canvas, they

watched the false dawn slowly grow. A faint flame began to glow and smoulder. It deepened in intensity,

ringing the changes of reddish yellow, purple, and saffron. So bright did it become that Cuthfert thought the

sun must surely be behind ita miracle, the sun rising in the north! Suddenly, without warning and without

fading, the canvas was swept clean. There was no color in the sky. The light had gone out of the day.

They caught their breaths in halfsobs. But lo! the air was aglint with particles of scintillating frost, and

A shadow! A shadow! It was exactly midday. They jerked their heads hurriedly to the south. A golden rim

peeped over the mountain's snowy shoulder, smiled upon them an instant, then dipped from sight again.

There were tears in their eyes as they sought each other. A strange softening came over them. They felt

irresistibly drawn toward each other. The sun was coming back again. It would be with them tomorrow, and

And it would stay longer every visit, and a time would come when it would ride their heaven day and night,

The icelocked winter would be broken; the winds would blow and the forests answer; the land would bathe

Hand in hand, they would quit this horrid dream and journey back to the Southland. They lurched blindly

forward, and their hands mettheir poor maimed hands, swollen and distorted beneath their mittens.

But the promise was destined to remain unfulfilled. The Northland is the Northland, and men work out their

souls by strange rules, which other men, who have not journeyed into far countries, cannot come to

An hour later, Cuthfert put a pan of bread into the oven, and fell to speculating on what the surgeons could do

with his feet when he got back. Home did not seem so very far away now. Weatherbee was rummaging in the

cache. Of a sudden, he raised a whirlwind of blasphemy, which in turn ceased with startling abruptness. The

other man had robbed his sugarsack. Still, things might have happened differently, had not the two dead

men come out from under the stones and hushed the hot words in his throat. They led him quite gently from

the cache, which he forgot to close. That consummation was reached; that something they had whispered to

him in his dreams was about to happen. They guided him gently, very gently, to the woodpile, where they put

Then they helped him shove open the cabin door, and he felt sure they shut it after him at least he heard it

slam and the latch fall sharply into place. And he knew they were waiting just without, waiting for him to do

'Carter! I say, Carter!' Percy Cuthfert was frightened at the look on the clerk's face, and he made haste to put

Carter Weatherbee followed, without haste and without enthusiasm. There was neither pity nor passion in his

face, but rather the patient, stolid look of one who has certain work to do and goes about it methodically.

The clerk dodged back, cutting off his retreat to the door, but never opening his mouth.

'I say, Carter, I say; let's talk. There's a good chap.' The master of arts was thinking rapidly, now, shaping a

skillful flank movement on the bed where his Smith Wesson lay. Keeping his eyes on the madman, he rolled

'Carter!' The powder flashed full in Weatherbee's face, but he swung his weapon and leaped forward. The axe

bit deeply at the base of the spine, and Percy Cuthfert felt all consciousness of his lower limbs leave him.

Then the clerk fell heavily upon him, clutching him by the throat with feeble fingers. The sharp bite of the

axe had caused Cuthfert to drop the pistol, and as his lungs panted for release, he fumbled aimlessly for it

among the blankets. Then he remembered. He slid a hand up the clerk's belt to the sheathknife; and they

Percy Cuthfert felt his strength leave him. The lower portion of his body was useless, The inert weight of

Weatherbee crushed himcrushed him and pinned him there like a bear under a trap. The cabin became

filled with a familiar odor, and he knew the bread to be burning. Yet what did it matter? He would never need

it. And there were all of six cupfuls of sugar in the cacheif he had foreseen this he would not have been so

saving the last several days. Would the windvane ever move? Why not' Had he not seen the sun today? He

would go and see. No; it was impossible to move. He had not thought the clerk so heavy a man.

It must be below zero already, and the ice creeping up the inside of the door. He could not see it, but his past

experience enabled him to gauge its progress by the cabin's temperature. The lower hinge must be white ere

now. Would the tale of this ever reach the world? How would his friends take it? They would read it over

their coffee, most likely, and talk it over at the clubs. He could see them very clearly, 'Poor Old Cuthfert,'

they murmured; 'not such a bad sort of a chap, after all.' He smiled at their eulogies, and passed on in search

Strange, they did not notice his moosehide moccasins and tattered German socks! He would take a cab. And

Steak, and potatoes, and green things how fresh it all was! And what was that? Squares of honey, streaming

liquid amber! But why did they bring so much? Ha! ha! he could never eat it all.

Shine! Why certainly. He put his foot on the box. The bootblack looked curiously up at him, and he

That was alla mere singing. The ice must have passed the latch by now. More likely the upper hinge was

covered. Between the mosschinked roofpoles, little points of frost began to appear. How slowly they grew!

No; not so slowly. There was a new one, and there another. Twothreefour; they were coming too fast to

Well, he would have company. If Gabriel ever broke the silence of the North, they would stand together,

hand in hand, before the great White Throne. And God would judge them, God would judge them!

'Dump it in!.' 'But I say, Kid, isn't that going it a little too strong' Whisky and alcohol's bad enough; but when

it comes to brandy and pepper sauce and' 'Dump it in. Who's making this punch, anyway?' And Malemute

Kid smiled benignantly through the clouds of steam. 'By the time you've been in this country as long as I

have, my son, and lived on rabbit tracks and salmon belly, you'll learn that Christmas comes only once per

And a Christmas without punch is sinking a hole to bedrock with nary a pay streak.'

'Stack up on that fer a high cyard,' approved Big Jim Belden, who had come down from his claim on Mazy

May to spend Christmas, and who, as everyone knew, had been living the two months past on straight moose

meat. 'Hain't fergot the hooch weuns made on the Tanana, hey yeh?' 'Well, I guess yes. Boys, it would have

done your hearts good to see that whole tribe fighting drunkand all because of a glorious ferment of sugar

and sour dough. That was before your time,' Malemute Kid said as he turned to Stanley Prince, a young

mining expert who had been in two years. 'No white women in the country then, and Mason wanted to get

married. Ruth's father was chief of the Tananas, and objected, like the rest of the tribe. Stiff? Why, I used my

last pound of sugar; finest work in that line I ever did in my life. You should have seen the chase, down the

river and across the portage.' 'But the squaw?' asked Louis Savoy, the tall French Canadian, becoming

interested; for he had heard of this wild deed when at Forty Mile the preceding winter.

Then Malemute Kid, who was a born raconteur, told the unvarnished tale of the Northland Lochinvar. More

than one rough adventurer of the North felt his heartstrings draw closer and experienced vague yearnings for

the sunnier pastures of the Southland, where life promised something more than a barren struggle with cold

'We struck the Yukon just behind the first ice run,' he concluded, 'and the tribe only a quarter of an hour

behind. But that saved us; for the second run broke the jam above and shut them out. When they finally got

And as to the forgathering, ask Father Roubeau here: he performed the ceremony.' The Jesuit took the pipe

from his lips but could only express his gratification with patriarchal smiles, while Protestant and Catholic

'By gar!' ejaculated Louis Savoy, who seemed overcome by the romance of it. 'La petite squaw: mon Mason

brav. By gar!' Then, as the first tin cups of punch went round, Bettles the Unquenchable sprang to his feet and

struck up his favorite drinking song: 'There's Henry Ward Beecher And Sundayschool teachers, All drink of

the sassafras root; But you bet all the same, If it had its right name, It's the juice of the forbidden fruit.'

'Oh, the juice of the forbidden fruit,' roared out the bacchanalian chorus, 'Oh, the juice of the forbidden fruit;

But you bet all the same, If it had its right name, It's the juice of the forbidden fruit.'

Malemute Kid's frightful concoction did its work; the men of the camps and trails unbent in its genial glow,

Aliens from a dozen lands, they toasted each and all. It was the Englishman, Prince, who pledged 'Uncle

Sam, the precocious infant of the New World'; the Yankee, Bettles, who drank to 'The Queen, God bless her';

and together, Savoy and Meyers, the German trader, clanged their cups to Alsace and Lorraine.

Then Malemute Kid arose, cup in hand, and glanced at the greasedpaper window, where the frost stood full

three inches thick. 'A health to the man on trail this night; may his grub hold out; may his dogs keep their

Crack! heard the familiar music of the dog whip, the whining howl of the Malemutes, and the crunch of a

sled as it drew up to the cabin. Conversation languished while they waited the issue.

'An oldtimer; cares for his dogs and then himself,' whispered Malemute Kid to Prince as they listened to the

snapping jaws and the wolfish snarls and yelps of pain which proclaimed to their practiced ears that the

Dazzled by the light, he hesitated a moment at the door, giving to all a chance for scrutiny. He was a striking

personage, and a most picturesque one, in his Arctic dress of wool and fur. Standing six foot two or three,

with proportionate breadth of shoulders and depth of chest, his smoothshaven face nipped by the cold to a

gleaming pink, his long lashes and eyebrows white with ice, and the ear and neck flaps of his great wolfskin

cap loosely raised, he seemed, of a verity, the Frost King, just stepped in out of the night.

Clasped outside his Mackinaw jacket, a beaded belt held two large Colt's revolvers and a hunting knife, while

he carried, in addition to the inevitable dog whip, a smokeless rifle of the largest bore and latest pattern. As

he came forward, for all his step was firm and elastic, they could see that fatigue bore heavily upon him.

An awkward silence had fallen, but his hearty 'What cheer, my lads?' put them quickly at ease, and the next

instant Malemute Kid and he had gripped hands. Though they had never met, each had heard of the other, and

the recognition was mutual. A sweeping introduction and a mug of punch were forced upon him before he

How long since that basket sled, with three men and eight dogs, passed?' he asked.

'An even two days ahead. Are you after them?' 'Yes; my team. Run them off under my very nose, the cusses.

I've gained two days on them alreadypick them up on the next run.' 'Reckon they'll show spunk?' asked

Belden, in order to keep up the conversation, for Malemute Kid already had the coffeepot on and was busily

'When'd yeh leave Dawson?' 'Twelve o'clock.' 'Last night?'as a matter of course.

'Today.' A murmur of surprise passed round the circle. And well it might; for it was just midnight, and

seventyfive miles of rough river trail was not to be sneered at for a twelve hours' run.

The talk soon became impersonal, however, harking back to the trails of childhood. As the young stranger ate

of the rude fare Malemute Kid attentively studied his face. Nor was he long in deciding that it was fair,

honest, and open, and that he liked it. Still youthful, the lines had been firmly traced by toil and hardship.

Though genial in conversation, and mild when at rest, the blue eyes gave promise of the hard steelglitter

which comes when called into action, especially against odds. The heavy jaw and squarecut chin

demonstrated rugged pertinacity and indomitability. Nor, though the attributes of the lion were there, was

there wanting the certain softness, the hint of womanliness, which bespoke the emotional nature.

'So thet's how me an' the ol' woman got spliced,' said Belden, concluding the exciting tale of his courtship.

'"Here we be, Dad," sez she. "An' may yeh be damned," sez he to her, an' then to me, ''Jim, yehyeh git outen

them good duds o' yourn; I want a right peart slice o' thet forty acre plowed 'fore dinner." An' then he sort o'

sniffled an' kissed her. An' I was thet happybut he seen me an' roars out, ''Yeh, Jim!' An' yeh bet I dusted

fer the barn.' 'Any kids waiting for you back in the States?' asked the stranger.

'Nope; Sal died 'fore any come. Thet's why I'm here.' Belden abstractedly began to light his pipe, which had

failed to go out, and then brightened up with, 'How 'bout yerself, strangermarried man?' For reply, he

opened his watch, slipped it from the thong which served for a chain, and passed it over. Belden picked up

the slush lamp, surveyed the inside of the case critically, and, swearing admiringly to himself, handed it over

to Louis Savoy. With numerous 'By gars!' he finally surrendered it to Prince, and they noticed that his hands

trembled and his eyes took on a peculiar softness. And so it passed from horny hand to horny handthe

pasted photograph of a woman, the clinging kind that such men fancy, with a babe at the breast. Those who

had not yet seen the wonder were keen with curiosity; those who had became silent and retrospective. They

could face the pinch of famine, the grip of scurvy, or the quick death by field or flood; but the pictured

'Never have seen the youngster yethe's a boy, she says, and two years old,' said the stranger as he received

the treasure back. A lingering moment he gazed upon it, then snapped the case and turned away, but not

quick enough to hide the restrained rush of tears. Malemute Kid led him to a bunk and bade him turn in.

'Call me at four sharp. Don't fail me,' were his last words, and a moment later he was breathing in the

'By Jove! He's a plucky chap,' commented Prince. 'Three hours' sleep after seventyfive miles with the dogs,

and then the trail again. Who is he, Kid?' 'Jack Westondale. Been in going on three years, with nothing but

the name of working like a horse, and any amount of bad luck to his credit. I never knew him, but Sitka

Charley told me about him.' 'It seems hard that a man with a sweet young wife like his should be putting in

his years in this Godforsaken hole, where every year counts two on the outside.' 'The trouble with him is

clean grit and stubbornness. He's cleaned up twice with a stake, but lost it both times.' Here the conversation

was broken off by an uproar from Bettles, for the effect had begun to wear away. And soon the bleak years of

monotonous grub and deadening toil were being forgotten in rough merriment. Malemute Kid alone seemed

unable to lose himself, and cast many an anxious look at his watch. Once he put on his mittens and

Nor could he wait the hour designated; for he was fifteen minutes ahead of time in rousing his guest. The

young giant had stiffened badly, and brisk rubbing was necessary to bring him to his feet. He tottered

painfully out of the cabin, to find his dogs harnessed and everything ready for the start. The company wished

him good luck and a short chase, while Father Roubeau, hurriedly blessing him, led the stampede for the

cabin; and small wonder, for it is not good to face seventyfour degrees below zero with naked ears and

Malemute Kid saw him to the main trail, and there, gripping his hand heartily, gave him advice.

'You'll find a hundred pounds of salmon eggs on the sled,' he said. 'The dogs will go as far on that as with one

hundred and fifty of fish, and you can't get dog food at Pelly, as you probably expected.' The stranger started,

and his eyes flashed, but he did not interrupt. 'You can't get an ounce of food for dog or man till you reach

Five Fingers, and that's a stiff two hundred miles. Watch out for open water on the Thirty Mile River, and be

sure you take the big cutoff above Le Barge.' 'How did you know it? Surely the news can't be ahead of me

But you never owned that team you're chasing. Sitka Charley sold it to them last spring.

But he sized you up to me as square once, and I believe him. I've seen your face; I like it.

And I've seenwhy, damn you, hit the high places for salt water and that wife of yours, and' Here the Kid

'No; I don't need it,' and the tears froze on his cheeks as he convulsively gripped Malemute Kid's hand.

'Then don't spare the dogs; cut them out of the traces as fast as they drop; buy them, and think they're cheap at

ten dollars a pound. You can get them at Five Fingers, Little Salmon, and Hootalinqua. And watch out for

wet feet,' was his parting advice. 'Keep a traveling up to twentyfive, but if it gets below that, build a fire

Fifteen minutes had barely elapsed when the jingle of bells announced new arrivals. The door opened, and a

mounted policeman of the Northwest Territory entered, followed by two halfbreed dog drivers. Like

Westondale, they were heavily armed and showed signs of fatigue. The halfbreeds had been borne to the

trail and bore it easily; but the young policeman was badly exhausted. Still, the dogged obstinacy of his race

held him to the pace he had set, and would hold him till he dropped in his tracks.

'When did Westondale pull out?' he asked. 'He stopped here, didn't he?' This was supererogatory, for the

Malemute Kid had caught Belden's eye, and he, scenting the wind, replied evasively, 'A right peart while

'Yeh seem to want him right smart. Hez he ben gittin' cantankerous down Dawson way?'

'Held up Harry McFarland's for forty thousand; exchanged it at the P.C. store for a check on Seattle; and

who's to stop the cashing of it if we don't overtake him? When did he pull out?'

Every eye suppressed its excitement, for Malemute Kid had given the cue, and the young officer encountered

Striding over to Prince, he put the question to him. Though it hurt him, gazing into the frank, earnest face. of

Then he espied Father Roubeau, who could not lie. 'A quarter of an hour ago,' the priest answered; 'but he had

four hours' rest for himself and dogs.' 'Fifteen minutes' start, and he's fresh! My God!' The poor fellow

staggered back, half fainting from exhaustion and disappointment, murmuring something about the run from

Malemute Kid forced a mug of punch upon him; then he turned for the door, ordering the dog drivers to

follow. But the warmth and promise of rest were too tempting, and they objected strenuously. The Kid was

They swore that the dogs were gone up; that Siwash and Babette would have to be shot before the first mile

was covered; that the rest were almost as bad; and that it would be better for all hands to rest up.

'I'll sign a check on Captain Constantine for five thousandhere's my papersI'm authorized to draw at my

'Then I'll requisition them in the name of the Queen.' Smiling incredulously, the Kid glanced at his

wellstocked arsenal, and the Englishman, realizing his impotency, turned for the door. But the dog drivers

still objecting, he whirled upon them fiercely, calling them women and curs. The swart face of the older

halfbreed flushed angrily as he drew himself up and promised in good, round terms that he would travel his

The young officerand it required his whole willwalked steadily to the door, exhibiting a freshness he did

not possess. But they all knew and appreciated his proud effort; nor could he veil the twinges of agony that

shot across his face. Covered with frost, the dogs were curled up in the snow, and it was almost impossible to

get them to their feet. The poor brutes whined under the stinging lash, for the dog drivers were angry and

cruel; nor till Babette, the leader, was cut from the traces, could they break out the sled and get under way.

'A dirty scoundrel and a liar!' 'By gar! Him no good!' 'A thief!' 'Worse than an Indian!'

It was evident that they were angryfirst at the way they had been deceived; and second at the outraged

'An' we gave the cuss a hand, after knowin' what he'd did.' All eyes turned accusingly upon Malemute Kid,

who rose from the corner where he had been making Babette comfortable, and silently emptied the bowl for a

'It's a cold night, boysa bitter cold night,' was the irrelevant commencement of his defense. 'You've all

traveled trail, and know what that stands for. Don't jump a dog when he's down. You've only heard one side.

A whiter man than Jack Westondale never ate from the same pot nor stretched blanket with you or me.

Last fall he gave his whole cleanup, forty thousand, to Joe Castrell, to buy in on Dominion. Today he'd be a

millionaire. But, while he stayed behind at Circle City, taking care of his partner with the scurvy, what does

Castell do? Goes into McFarland's, jumps the limit, and drops the whole sack. Found him dead in the snow

the next day. And poor Jack laying his plans to go out this winter to his wife and the boy he's never seen.

You'll notice he took exactly what his partner lostforty thousand. Well, he's gone out; and what are you going

to do about it?' The Kid glanced round the circle of his judges, noted the softening of their faces, then raised

his mug aloft. 'So a health to the man on trail this night; may his grub hold out; may his dogs keep their legs;

God prosper him; good luck go with him; and ' 'Confusion to the Mounted Police!'

This is the story of a man who did not appreciate his wife; also, of a woman who did him too great an honor

when she gave herself to him. Incidentally, it concerns a Jesuit priest who had never been known to lie. He

was an appurtenance, and a very necessary one, to the Yukon country; but the presence of the other two was

merely accidental. They were specimens of the many strange waifs which ride the breast of a gold rush or

Edwin Bentham and Grace Bentham were waifs; they were also tailing along behind, for the Klondike rush of

'97 had long since swept down the great river and subsided into the faminestricken city of Dawson. When

the Yukon shut up shop and went to sleep under a threefoot icesheet, this peripatetic couple found

themselves at the Five Finger Rapids, with the City of Gold still a journey of many sleeps to the north.

Many cattle had been butchered at this place in the fall of the year, and the offal made a goodly heap. The

three fellowvoyagers of Edwin Bentham and wife gazed upon this deposit, did a little mental arithmetic,

caught a certain glimpse of a bonanza, and decided to remain. And all winter they sold sacks of bones and

frozen hides to the famished dog teams. It was a modest price they asked, a dollar a pound, just as it came.

Six months later, when the sun came back and the Yukon awoke, they buckled on their heavy moneybelts and

journeyed back to the Southland, where they yet live and lie mightily about the Klondike they never saw.

But Edwin Benthamhe was an indolent fellow, and had he not been possessed of a wife, would have gladly

joined issued in the dogmeat speculation. As it was, she played upon his vanity, told him how great and

strong he was, how a man such as he certainly was could overcome all obstacles and of a surety obtain the

Golden Fleece. So he squared his jaw, sold his share in the bones and hides for a sled and one dog, and turned

his snowshoes to the north. Needless to state, Grace Bentham's snowshoes never allowed his tracks to grow

cold. Nay, ere their tribulations had seen three days, it was the man who followed in the rear, and the woman

who broke trail in advance. Of course, if anybody hove in sight, the position was instantly reversed. Thus did

his manhood remain virgin to the travelers who passed like ghosts on the silent trail. There are such men in

How such a man and such a woman came to take each other for better and for worse is unimportant to this

narrative. These things are familiar to us all, and those people who do them, or even question them too

Edwin Bentham was a boy, thrust by mischance into a man's body,a boy who could complacently pluck a

butterfly, wing from wing, or cower in abject terror before a lean, nervy fellow, not half his size. He was a

selfish crybaby, hidden behind a man's mustache and stature, and glossed over with a skindeep veneer of

culture and conventionality. Yes; he was a clubman and a society man,the sort that grace social functions and

utter inanities with a charm and unction which is indescribable; the sort that talk big, and cry over a

toothache; the sort that put more hell into a woman's life by marrying her than can the most graceless

libertine that ever browsed in forbidden pastures. We meet these men every day, but we rarely know them for

what they are. Second to marrying them, the best way to get this knowledge is to eat out of the same pot and

crawl under the same blanket with them for well, say a week; no greater margin is necessary.

To see Grace Bentham, was to see a slender, girlish creature; to know her, was to know a soul which dwarfed

your own, yet retained all the elements of the eternal feminine. This was the woman who urged and

encouraged her husband in his Northland quest, who broke trail for him when no one was looking, and cried

So journeyed this strangely assorted couple down to old Fort Selkirk, then through fivescore miles of dismal

wilderness to Stuart River. And when the short day left them, and the man lay down in the snow and

blubbered, it was the woman who lashed him to the sled, bit her lips with the pain of her aching limbs, and

helped the dog haul him to Malemute Kid's cabin. Malemute Kid was not at home, but Meyers, the German

trader, cooked great moosesteaks and shook up a bed of fresh pine boughs. Lake, Langham, and Parker,

'Oh, Sandy! Say, can you tell a porterhouse from a round? Come out and lend us a hand, anyway!' This

appeal emanated from the cache, where Langham was vainly struggling with divers quarters of frozen moose.

'I say, Sandy; there's a good fellowjust run down to the Missouri Camp and borrow some cinnamon,'

'Oh! oh! hurry up! Why don't' But the crash of meat and boxes, in the cache, abruptly quenched this

'Come now, Sandy; it won't take a minute to go down to the Missouri' 'You leave him alone,' interrupted

Sandy paused in indecision, till suddenly the fact that he was Langham's 'man' dawned upon him. Then he

apologetically threw down the greasy dishcloth, and went to his master's rescue.

These promising scions of wealthy progenitors had come to the Northland in search of laurels, with much

money to burn, and a 'man' apiece. Luckily for their souls, the other two men were up the White River in

search of a mythical quartzledge; so Sandy had to grin under the responsibility of three healthy masters, each

of whom was possessed of peculiar cookery ideas. Twice that morning had a disruption of the whole camp

been imminent, only averted by immense concessions from one or the other of these knights of the

chafingdish. But at last their mutual creation, a really dainty dinner, was completed.

Then they sat down to a threecornered game of 'cutthroat,'a proceeding which did away with all casus

belli for future hostilities, and permitted the victor to depart on a most important mission.

This fortune fell to Parker, who parted his hair in the middle, put on his mittens and bearskin cap, and stepped

over to Malemute Kid's cabin. And when he returned, it was in the company of Grace Bentham and

Malemute Kid,the former very sorry her husband could not share with her their hospitality, for he had

gone up to look at the Henderson Creek mines, and the latter still a trifle stiff from breaking trail down the

Meyers had been asked, but had declined, being deeply engrossed in an experiment of raising bread from

Well, they could do without the husband; but a womanwhy they had not seen one all winter, and the

They were college men and gentlemen, these three young fellows, yearning for the flesh pots they had been

so long denied. Probably Grace Bentham suffered from a similar hunger; at least, it meant much to her, the

But that wonderful first course, which claimed the versatile Lake for its parent, had no sooner been served

'Oh! Ah! Won't you come in, Mr. Bentham?' said Parker, who had stepped to see who the newcomer might

'Why, yes. We left word with Mr. Meyers.' Parker was exerting his most dulcet tones, inwardly wondering

what the deuce it all meant. 'Won't you come in? Expecting you at any moment, we reserved a place. And just

in time for the first course, too.' 'Come in, Edwin, dear,' chirped Grace Bentham from her seat at the table.

'I want my wife,' reiterated Bentham hoarsely, the intonation savoring disagreeably of ownership.

Parker gasped, was within an ace of driving his fist into the face of his boorish visitor, but held himself

awkwardly in check. Everybody rose. Lake lost his head and caught himself on the verge of saying, 'Must

you go?' Then began the farrago of leavetaking. 'So nice of you' 'I am awfully sorry' 'By Jove! how things

In this wise the lamb was helped into her jacket and led to the slaughter. Then the door slammed, and they

'Damn!' Langham had suffered disadvantages in his early training, and his oaths were weak and monotonous.

'Damn!' he repeated, vaguely conscious of the incompleteness and vainly struggling for a more virile term. It

is a clever woman who can fill out the many weak places in an inefficient man, by her own indomitability,

reenforce his vacillating nature, infuse her ambitious soul into his, and spur him on to great achievements.

And it is indeed a very clever and tactful woman who can do all this, and do it so subtly that the man receives

all the credit and believes in his inmost heart that everything is due to him and him alone.

This is what Grace Bentham proceeded to do. Arriving in Dawson with a few pounds of flour and several

letters of introduction, she at once applied herself to the task of pushing her big baby to the fore. It was she

who melted the stony heart and wrung credit from the rude barbarian who presided over the destiny of the P.

C. Company; yet it was Edwin Bentham to whom the concession was ostensibly granted. It was she who

dragged her baby up and down creeks, over benches and divides, and on a dozen wild stampedes; yet

everybody remarked what an energetic fellow that Bentham was. It was she who studied maps, and

catechised miners, and hammered geography and locations into his hollow head, till everybody marveled at

his broad grasp of the country and knowledge of its conditions. Of course, they said the wife was a brick, and

She did the work; he got the credit and reward. In the Northwest Territory a married woman cannot stake or

record a creek, bench, or quartz claim; so Edwin Bentham went down to the Gold Commissioner and filed on

Bench Claim 23, second tier, of French Hill. And when April came they were washing out a thousand dollars

At the base of French Hill lay Eldorado Creek, and on a creek claim stood the cabin of Clyde Wharton. At

present he was not washing out a diurnal thousand dollars; but his dumps grew, shift by shift, and there

would come a time when those dumps would pass through his sluiceboxes, depositing in the riffles, in the

course of half a dozen days, several hundred thousand dollars. He often sat in that cabin, smoked his pipe,

and dreamed beautiful little dreams,dreams in which neither the dumps nor the halfton of dust in the P. C.

And Grace Bentham, as she washed tin dishes in her hillside cabin, often glanced down into Eldorado Creek,

and dreamed,not of dumps nor dust, however. They met frequently, as the trail to the one claim crossed the

other, and there is much to talk about in the Northland spring; but never once, by the light of an eye nor the

This is as it was at first. But one day Edwin Bentham was brutal. All boys are thus; besides, being a French

Hill king now, he began to think a great deal of himself and to forget all he owed to his wife. On this day,

Wharton heard of it, and waylaid Grace Bentham, and talked wildly. This made her very happy, though she

would not listen, and made him promise to not say such things again. Her hour had not come.

But the sun swept back on its northern journey, the black of midnight changed to the steely color of dawn, the

snow slipped away, the water dashed again over the glacial drift, and the washup began. Day and night the

yellow clay and scraped bedrock hurried through the swift sluices, yielding up its ransom to the strong men

To all of us such hours at some time come,that is, to us who are not too phlegmatic.

Some people are good, not from inherent love of virtue, but from sheer laziness. But those of us who know

Edwin Bentham was weighing dust over the bar of the saloon at the Forksaltogether too much of his dust

went over that pine boardwhen his wife came down the hill and slipped into Clyde Wharton's cabin.

Wharton was not expecting her, but that did not alter the case. And much subsequent misery and idle waiting

might have been avoided, had not Father Roubeau seen this and turned aside from the main creek trail. 'My

child,' 'Hold on, Father Roubeau! Though I'm not of your faith, I respect you; but you can't come in between

this woman and me!' 'You know what you are doing?' 'Know! Were you God Almighty, ready to fling me

into eternal fire, I'd bank my will against yours in this matter.' Wharton had placed Grace on a stool and stood

'You sit down on that chair and keep quiet,' he continued, addressing the Jesuit. 'I'll take my innings now.

Father Roubeau bowed courteously and obeyed. He was an easygoing man and had learned to bide his time.

'Then you do care for me, and will take me away?' Her face seemed to reflect the peace of this man, against

'Dear, don't you remember what I said before? Of course I' 'But how can you?the washup?' 'Do you

I can trust him to safely bank the dust with the company.' 'To think of it!I'll never see him again.' 'A

blessing!' 'And to goO, Clyde, I can't! I can't!' 'There, there; of course you can. just let me plan it.You

see, as soon as we get a few traps together, we'll start, and' 'Suppose he comes back?' 'I'll break every' 'No,

no! No fighting, Clyde! Promise me that.' 'All right! I'll just tell the men to throw him off the claim. They've

'You mustn't do that. You mustn't hurt him.' 'What then? Let him come right in here and take you away before

'Then let me run it, and don't worry. I'll see he doesn't get hurt. Precious lot he cared whether you got hurt or

not! We won't go back to Dawson. I'll send word down for a couple of the boys to outfit and pole a boat up

the Yukon. We'll cross the divide and raft down the Indian River to meet them. Then' 'And then?' Her head

Their voices sank to softer cadences, each word a caress. The Jesuit fidgeted nervously.

'Why we'll pole up, and up, and up, and portage the White Horse Rapids and the Box Canon.' 'Yes?' 'And the

SixtyMile River; then the lakes, Chilcoot, Dyea, and Salt Water.' 'But, dear, I can't pole a boat.' 'You little

goose! I'll get Sitka Charley; he knows all the good water and best camps, and he is the best traveler I ever

met, if he is an Indian. All you'll have to do, is to sit in the middle of the boat, and sing songs, and play

'And then, O my Antony?' 'And then a steamer, San Francisco, and the world! Never to come back to this

cursed hole again. Think of it! The world, and ours to choose from! I'll sell out. Why, we're rich! The

Waldworth Syndicate will give me half a million for what's left in the ground, and I've got twice as much in

Company. We'll go to the Fair in Paris in 1900. We'll go to Jerusalem, if you say so.

We'll buy an Italian palace, and you can play Cleopatra to your heart's content. No, you shall be Lucretia,

Acte, or anybody your little heart sees fit to become. But you mustn't, you really mustn't' 'The wife of

Caesar shall be above reproach.' 'Of course, but' 'But I won't be your wife, will I, dear?' 'I didn't mean that.'

'But you'll love me just as much, and never even thinkoh! I know you'll be like other men; you'll grow

'How can you? I' 'Promise me.' 'Yes, yes; I do promise.' 'You say it so easily, dear; but how do you

know?or I know? I have so little to give, yet it is so much, and all I have. O, Clyde! promise me you

'There, there! You musn't begin to doubt already. Till death do us part, you know.'

'Think! I once said that toto him, and now?' 'And now, little sweetheart, you're not to bother about such

Of course, I never, never will, and' And for the first time, lips trembled against lips.

Father Roubeau had been watching the main trail through the window, but could stand the strain no longer.

'Your turn now, Father!' Wharton's face was flushed with the fire of his first embrace.

There was an exultant ring to his voice as he abdicated in the other's favor. He had no doubt as to the result.

'My child,' he began, 'my heart bleeds for you. It is a pretty dream, but it cannot be.'

'And why, Father? I have said yes.' 'You knew not what you did. You did not think of the oath you took,

before your God, to that man who is your husband. It remains for me to make you realize the sanctity of such

'Which God? My husband has a God which I care not to worship. There must be many such.' 'Child! unsay

those words! Ah! you do not mean them. I understand. I, too, have had such moments.' For an instant he was

back in his native France, and a wistful, sad eyed face came as a mist between him and the woman before

'Then, Father, has my God forsaken me? I am not wicked above women. My misery with him has been great.

Why should it be greater? Why shall I not grasp at happiness? I cannot, will not, go back to him!' 'Rather is

your God forsaken. Return. Throw your burden upon Him, and the darkness shall be lifted. O my child,'

'No; it is useless; I have made my bed and so shall I lie. I will go on. And if God punishes me, I shall bear it

'But' 'And Christ was born of a woman.' She did not answer. A silence fell. Wharton pulled his mustache

impatiently and kept an eye on the trail. Grace leaned her elbow on the table, her face set with resolve. The

'At one time I wishedbut nowno. And I am thankful.' 'And a mother?' 'Yes.' 'She loves you?' 'Yes.' Her

And a brother?no matter, he is a man. But a sister?' Her head drooped a quavering 'Yes.' 'Younger? Very

much?' 'Seven years.' 'And you have thought well about this matter? About them? About your mother? And

your sister? She stands on the threshold of her woman's life, and this wildness of yours may mean much to

her. Could you go before her, look upon her fresh young face, hold her hand in yours, or touch your cheek to

To his words, her brain formed vivid images, till she cried out, 'Don't! don't!' and shrank away as do the

'But you must face all this; and better it is to do it now.' In his eyes, which she could not see, there was a great

She raised her head from the table, forced back the tears, struggled for control.

'I shall go away. They will never see me, and come to forget me. I shall be to them as dead. Andand I will

go with Clydetoday.' It seemed final. Wharton stepped forward, but the priest waved him back.

'You have wished for children?' A silent 'Yes.' 'And prayed for them?' 'Often.' 'And have you thought, if you

should have children?' Father Roubeau's eyes rested for a moment on the man by the window.

A quick light shot across her face. Then the full import dawned upon her. She raised her hand appealingly,

'Can you picture an innocent babe in your arms,' A boy? The world is not so hard upon a girl. Why, your very

breast would turn to gall! And you could be proud and happy of your boy, as you looked on other children?'

'A child to grow up with no thought of evil, and one day the world to fling a tender name in his face. A child

'O my God! my God!' She groveled on the floor. The priest sighed and raised her to her feet.

'Don't come near me, Clyde! I am going back!' The tears were coursing pitifully down her face, but she made

'After all this? You cannot! I will not let you!' 'Don't touch me!' She shivered and drew back.

'I will! You are mine! Do you hear? You are mine!' Then he whirled upon the priest. 'O what a fool I was to

ever let you wag your silly tongue! Thank your God you are not a common man, for I'dbut the priestly

prerogative must be exercised, eh? Well, you have exercised it. Now get out of my house, or I'll forget who

and what you are!' Father Roubeau bowed, took her hand, and started for the door. But Wharton cut them off.

'Grace! You said you loved me?' 'I did.' 'And you do now?' 'I do.' 'Say it again.'

'I do love you, Clyde; I do.' 'There, you priest!' he cried. 'You have heard it, and with those words on her lips

But Father Roubeau whisked the woman into the inner room and closed the door. 'No words!' he whispered to

Wharton, as he struck a casual posture on a stool. 'Remember, for her sake,' he added.

The room echoed to a rough knock at the door; the latch raised and Edwin Bentham stepped in.

'I saw her tracks down from the cabin,' he continued tentatively, 'and they broke off, just opposite here, on the

The priest silenced him with a look. 'Did you see her tracks leading up to this cabin, my son?' Wily Father

Roubeauhe had taken good care to obliterate them as he came up the same path an hour before.

'I didn't stop to look, I ' His eyes rested suspiciously on the door to the other room, then interrogated the

Father Roubeau breathed a swift, silent prayer, and rose to his feet. 'If you doubt me, why' He made as

'Of course not, Father,' he interposed hurriedly. 'I was only wondering where my wife had gone, and thought

maybeI guess she's up at Mrs. Stanton's on French Gulch. Nice weather, isn't it? Heard the news? Flour's

gone down to forty dollars a hundred, and they say the chechaquas are flocking down the river in droves.

But I must be going; so goodby.' The door slammed, and from the window they watched him take his quest

up French Gulch. A few weeks later, just after the June highwater, two men shot a canoe into midstream

and made fast to a derelict pine. This tightened the painter and jerked the frail craft along as would a

towboat. Father Roubeau had been directed to leave the Upper Country and return to his swarthy children at

Minook. The white men had come among them, and they were devoting too little time to fishing, and too

Malemute Kid also had business in the Lower Country, so they journeyed together.

But one, in all the Northland, knew the man Paul Roubeau, and that man was Malemute Kid. Before him

alone did the priest cast off the sacerdotal garb and stand naked. And why not? These two men knew each

other. Had they not shared the last morsel of fish, the last pinch of tobacco, the last and inmost thought, on

the barren stretches of Bering Sea, in the heartbreaking mazes of the Great Delta, on the terrible winter

journey from Point Barrow to the Porcupine? Father Roubeau puffed heavily at his trailworn pipe, and

gazed on the reddisked sun, poised somberly on the edge of the northern horizon.

'God surely will forgive such a lie. Let me give you the word of a man who strikes a true note: If She have

spoken a word, remember thy lips are sealed, And the brand of the Dog is upon him by whom is the secret

If there be trouble to Herward, and a lie of the blackest can clear, Lie, while thy lips can move or a man is

Father Roubeau removed his pipe and reflected. 'The man speaks true, but my soul is not vexed with that. The

'What then? Your hands are clean.' 'Not so. Kid, I have thought much, and yet the thing remains. I knew, and

made her go back.' The clear note of a robin rang out from the wooden bank, a partridge drummed the call in

the distance, a moose lunged noisily in the eddy; but the twain smoked on in silence.

Sitka Charley had achieved the impossible. Other Indians might have known as much of the wisdom of the

trail as he did; but he alone knew the white man's wisdom, the honor of the trail, and the law. But these things

had not come to him in a day. The aboriginal mind is slow to generalize, and many facts, repeated often, are

required to compass an understanding. Sitka Charley, from boyhood, had been thrown continually with white

men, and as a man he had elected to cast his fortunes with them, expatriating himself, once and for all, from

his own people. Even then, respecting, almost venerating their power, and pondering over it, he had yet to

divine its secret essencethe honor and the law. And it was only by the cumulative evidence of years that he

had finally come to understand. Being an alien, when he did know, he knew it better than the white man

And of these things had been bred a certain contempt for his own peoplea contempt which he had made it

a custom to conceal, but which now burst forth in a polyglot whirlwind of curses upon the heads of

KahChucte and Gowhee. They cringed before him like a brace of snarling wolf dogs, too cowardly to

spring, too wolfish to cover their fangs. They were not handsome creatures. Neither was Sitka Charley. All

three were frightfullooking. There was no flesh to their faces; their cheekbones were massed with hideous

scabs which had cracked and frozen alternately under the intense frost; while their eyes burned luridly with

the light which is born of desperation and hunger. Men so situated, beyond the pale of the honor and the law,

are not to be trusted. Sitka Charley knew this; and this was why he had forced them to abandon their rifles

with the rest of the camp outfit ten days before. His rifle and Captain Eppingwell's were the only ones that

'Come, get a fire started,' he commanded, drawing out the precious matchbox with its attendant strips of dry

The two Indians fell sullenly to the task of gathering dead branches and underwood. They were weak and

paused often, catching themselves, in the act of stooping, with giddy motions, or staggering to the center of

After each trip they rested for a moment, as though sick and deadly weary. At times their eyes took on the

patient stoicism of dumb suffering; and again the ego seemed almost burst forth with its wild cry, 'I, I, I want

A light breath of air blew from the south, nipping the exposed portions of their bodies and driving the frost, in

needles of fire, through fur and flesh to the bones. So, when the fire had grown lusty and thawed a damp

circle in the snow about it, Sitka Charley forced his reluctant comrades to lend a hand in pitching a fly. It was

a primitive affair, merely a blanket stretched parallel with the fire and to windward of it, at an angle of

perhaps forty five degrees. This shut out the chill wind and threw the heat backward and down upon those

who were to huddle in its shelter. Then a layer of green spruce boughs were spread, that their bodies might

not come in contact with the snow. When this task was completed, KahChucte and Gowhee proceeded to

take care of their feet. Their icebound mocassins were sadly worn by much travel, and the sharp ice of the

Their Siwash socks were similarly conditioned, and when these had been thawed and removed, the

deadwhite tips of the toes, in the various stages of mortification, told their simple tale of the trail.

Leaving the two to the drying of their footgear, Sitka Charley turned back over the course he had come. He,

too, had a mighty longing to sit by the fire and tend his complaining flesh, but the honor and the law forbade.

He toiled painfully over the frozen field, each step a protest, every muscle in revolt. Several times, where the

open water between the jams had recently crusted, he was forced to miserably accelerate his movements as

the fragile footing swayed and threatened beneath him. In such places death was quick and easy; but it was

His deepening anxiety vanished as two Indians dragged into view round a bend in the river. They staggered

and panted like men under heavy burdens; yet the packs on their backs were a matter of but a few pounds. He

questioned them eagerly, and their replies seemed to relieve him. He hurried on. Next came two white men,

supporting between them a woman. They also behaved as though drunken, and their limbs shook with

weakness. But the woman leaned lightly upon them, choosing to carry herself forward with her own strength.

At the sight of her a flash of joy cast its fleeting light across Sitka Charley's face. He cherished a very great

regard for Mrs. Eppingwell. He had seen many white women, but this was the first to travel the trail with

him. When Captain Eppingwell proposed the hazardous undertaking and made him an offer for his services,

he had shaken his head gravely; for it was an unknown journey through the dismal vastnesses of the

Northland, and he knew it to be of the kind that try to the uttermost the souls of men.

But when he learned that the captain's wife was to accompany them, he had refused flatly to have anything

further to do with it. Had it been a woman of his own race he would have harbored no objections; but these

women of the Southlandno, no, they were too soft, too tender, for such enterprises.

Sitka Charley did not know this kind of woman. Five minutes before, he did not even dream of taking charge

of the expedition; but when she came to him with her wonderful smile and her straight clean English, and

talked to the point, without pleading or persuading, he had incontinently yielded. Had there been a softness

and appeal to mercy in the eyes, a tremble to the voice, a taking advantage of sex, he would have stiffened to

steel; instead her clearsearching eyes and clearringing voice, her utter frankness and tacit assumption of

equality, had robbed him of his reason. He felt, then, that this was a new breed of woman; and ere they had

been trail mates for many days he knew why the sons of such women mastered the land and the sea, and why

the sons of his own womankind could not prevail against them. Tender and soft! Day after day he watched

her, muscleweary, exhausted, indomitable, and the words beat in upon him in a perennial refrain. Tender

and soft! He knew her feet had been born to easy paths and sunny lands, strangers to the moccasined pain of

the North, unkissed by the chill lips of the frost, and he watched and marveled at them twinkling ever through

She had always a smile and a word of cheer, from which not even the meanest packer was excluded. As the

way grew darker she seemed to stiffen and gather greater strength, and when KahChucte and Gowhee, who

had bragged that they knew every landmark of the way as a child did the skin bails of the tepee,

acknowledged that they knew not where they were, it was she who raised a forgiving voice amid the curses of

the men. She had sung to them that night till they felt the weariness fall from them and were ready to face the

future with fresh hope. And when the food failed and each scant stint was measured jealously, she it was who

rebelled against the machinations of her husband and Sitka Charley, and demanded and received a share

Sitka Charley was proud to know this woman. A new richness, a greater breadth, had come into his life with

her presence. Hitherto he had been his own mentor, had turned to right or left at no man's beck; he had

moulded himself according to his own dictates, nourished his manhood regardless of all save his own

opinion. For the first time he had felt a call from without for the best that was in him. just a glance of

appreciation from the clearsearching eyes, a word of thanks from the clearringing voice, just a slight

wreathing of the lips in the wonderful smile, and he walked with the gods for hours to come. It was a new

stimulant to his manhood; for the first time he thrilled with a conscious pride in his wisdom of the trail; and

between the twain they ever lifted the sinking hearts of their comrades. The faces of the two men and the

woman brightened as they saw him, for after all he was the staff they leaned upon. But Sitka Charley, rigid as

was his wont, concealing pain and pleasure impartially beneath an iron exterior, asked them the welfare of the

Next he met a single Indian, unburdened, limping, lips compressed, and eyes set with the pain of a foot in

which the quick fought a losing battle with the dead. All possible care had been taken of him, but in the last

extremity the weak and unfortunate must perish, and Sitka Charley deemed his days to be few. The man

could not keep up for long, so he gave him rough cheering words. After that came two more Indians, to

whom he had allotted the task of helping along Joe, the third white man of the party. They had deserted him.

Sitka Charley saw at a glance the lurking spring in their bodies, and knew they had at last cast off his

mastery. So he was not taken unawares when he ordered them back in quest of their abandoned charge, and

saw the gleam of the hunting knives that they drew from the sheaths. A pitiful spectacle, three weak men

lifting their puny strength in the face of the mighty vastness; but the two recoiled under the fierce rifle blows

of the one and returned like beaten dogs to the leash. Two hours later, with Joe reeling between them and

Sitka Charley bringing up the rear, they came to the fire, where the remainder of the expedition crouched in

'A few words, my comrades, before we sleep,' Sitka Charley said after they had devoured their slim rations of

unleavened bread. He was speaking to the Indians in their own tongue, having already given the import to the

whites. 'A few words, my comrades, for your own good, that ye may yet perchance live. I shall give you the

law; on his own head by the death of him that breaks it. We have passed the Hills of Silence, and we now

travel the head reaches of the Stuart. It may be one sleep, it may be several, it may be many sleeps, but in

time we shall come among the men of the Yukon, who have much grub. It were well that we look to the law.

Today KahChucte and Gowhee, whom I commanded to break trail, forgot they were men, and like

True, they forgot; so let us forget. But hereafter, let them remember. If it should happen they do not...' He

touched his rifle carelessly, grimly. 'Tomorrow they shall carry the flour and see that the white man Joe lies

not down by the trail. The cups of flour are counted; should so much as an ounce be wanting at nightfall... Do

ye understand? Today there were others that forgot. Moose Head and Three Salmon left the white man Joe to

lie in the snow. Let them forget no more. With the light of day shall they go forth and break trail. Ye have

heard the law. Look well, lest ye break it.' Sitka Charley found it beyond him to keep the line close up. From

Moose Head and Three Salmon, who broke trail in advance, to KahChucte, Gowhee, and Joe, it straggled

The line of march was a progression through a chain of irregular halts. Each drew upon the last remnant of

his strength and stumbled onward till it was expended, but in some miraculous way there was always another

last remnant. Each time a man fell it was with the firm belief that he would rise no more; yet he did rise, and

again and again. The flesh yielded, the will conquered; but each triumph was a tragedy. The Indian with the

frozen foot, no longer erect, crawled forward on hand and knee. He rarely rested, for he knew the penalty

Even Mrs. Eppingwell's lips were at last set in a stony smile, and her eyes, seeing, saw not. Often she

Joe, the white man, had passed beyond the stage of suffering. He no longer begged to be let alone, prayed to

die; but was soothed and content under the anodyne of delirium. Kah Chucte and Gowhee dragged him on

roughly, venting upon him many a savage glance or blow. To them it was the acme of injustice.

Their hearts were bitter with hate, heavy with fear. Why should they cumber their strength with his

weakness? To do so meant death; not to do soand they remembered the law of Sitka Charley, and the rifle.

Joe fell with greater frequency as the daylight waned, and so hard was he to raise that they dropped farther

and farther behind. Sometimes all three pitched into the snow, so weak had the Indians become. Yet on their

Within the flour sacks were all the potentialities of existence. They could not but think of this, and it was not

strange, that which came to pass. They had fallen by the side of a great timber jam where a thousand cords of

firewood waited the match. Near by was an air hole through the ice. KahChucte looked on the wood and the

Never a word was spoken. Gowhee struck a fire; KahChucte filled a tin cup with water and heated it; Joe

They mixed flour with the warm water till it was a thin paste, and of this they drank many cups. They did not

offer any to Joe; but he did not mind. He did not mind anything, not even his moccasins, which scorched and

A crystal mist of snow fell about them, softly, caressingly, wrapping them in clinging robes of white. And

their feet would have yet trod many trails had not destiny brushed the clouds aside and cleared the air. Nay,

Sitka Charley, looking back, saw the pillared smoke of their fire, and guessed. And he looked ahead at those

who were faithful, and at Mrs. Eppingwell. 'So, my good comrades, ye have again forgotten that you were

men? Good! Very good. There will be fewer bellies to feed.' Sitka Charley retied the flour as he spoke,

strapping the pack to the one on his own back. He kicked Joe till the pain broke through the poor devil's bliss

and brought him doddering to his feet. Then he shoved him out upon the trail and started him on his way. The

'Hold, Gowhee! And thou, too, KahChucte! Hath the flour given such strength to thy legs that they may

outrun the swiftwinged lead? Think not to cheat the law. Be men for the last time, and be content that ye die

Come, step up, back to the timber, shoulder to shoulder. Come!' The two men obeyed, quietly, without fear;

'Thou, Gowhee, hast a wife and children and a deerskin lodge in the Chipewyan. What is thy will in the

matter?' 'Give thou her of the goods which are mine by the word of the captainthe blankets, the beads, the

tobacco, the box which makes strange sounds after the manner of the white men. Say that I did die on the

trail, but say not how.' 'And thou, KahChucte, who hast nor wife nor child?' 'Mine is a sister, the wife of the

factor at Koshim. He beats her, and she is not happy. Give thou her the goods which are mine by the contract,

and tell her it were well she go back to her own people. Shouldst thou meet the man, and be so minded, it

were a good deed that he should die. He beats her, and she is afraid.' 'Are ye content to die by the law?' 'We

are.' 'Then goodbye, my good comrades. May ye sit by the wellfilled pot, in warm lodges, ere the day is

done.' As he spoke he raised his rifle, and many echoes broke the silence. Hardly had they died away when

There had been more than one shot, yet there was but one other rifle in the party.

He gave a fleeting glance at the men who lay so quietly, smiled viciously at the wisdom of the trail, and

Once when the northland was very young, the social and civic virtues were remarkably alike for their paucity

and their simplicity. When the burden of domestic duties grew grievous, and the fireside mood expanded to a

constant protest against its bleak loneliness, the adventurers from the Southland, in lieu of better, paid the

stipulated prices and took unto themselves native wives. It was a foretaste of Paradise to the women, for it

must be confessed that the white rovers gave far better care and treatment of them than did their Indian

copartners. Of course, the white men themselves were satisfied with such deals, as were also the Indian men

for that matter. Having sold their daughters and sisters for cotton blankets and obsolete rifles and traded their

warm furs for flimsy calico and bad whisky, the sons of the soil promptly and cheerfully succumbed to quick

consumption and other swift diseases correlated with the blessings of a superior civilization.

It was in these days of Arcadian simplicity that Cal Galbraith journeyed through the land and fell sick on the

Lower River. It was a refreshing advent in the lives of the good Sisters of the Holy Cross, who gave him

shelter and medicine; though they little dreamed of the hot elixir infused into his veins by the touch of their

soft hands and their gentle ministrations. Cal Galbraith, became troubled with strange thoughts which

clamored for attention till he laid eyes on the Mission girl, Madeline. Yet he gave no sign, biding his time

patiently. He strengthened with the coming spring, and when the sun rode the heavens in a golden circle, and

the joy and throb of life was in all the land, he gathered his still weak body together and departed.

Now, Madeline, the Mission girl, was an orphan. Her white father had failed to give a baldfaced grizzly the

trail one day, and had died quickly. Then her Indian mother, having no man to fill the winter cache, had tried

the hazardous experiment of waiting till the salmonrun on fifty pounds of flour and half as many of bacon.

After that, the baby, Chookra, went to live with the good Sisters, and to be thenceforth known by another

But Madeline still had kinsfolk, the nearest being a dissolute uncle who outraged his vitals with inordinate

quantities of the white man's whisky. He strove daily to walk with the gods, and incidentally, his feet sought

shorter trails to the grave. When sober he suffered exquisite torture. He had no conscience. To this ancient

vagabond Cal Galbraith duly presented himself, and they consumed many words and much tobacco in the

conversation that followed. Promises were also made; and in the end the old heathen took a few pounds of

dried salmon and his birchbark canoe, and paddled away to the Mission of the Holy Cross.

It is not given the world to know what promises he made and what lies he toldthe Sisters never gossip; but

when he returned, upon his swarthy chest there was a brass crucifix, and in his canoe his niece Madeline.

That night there was a grand wedding and a potlach; so that for two days to follow there was no fishing done

by the village. But in the morning Madeline shook the dust of the Lower River from her moccasins, and with

her husband, in a polingboat, went to live on the Upper River in a place known as the Lower Country. And

in the years which followed she was a good wife, sharing her husband's hardships and cooking his food. And

she kept him in straight trails, till he learned to save his dust and to work mightily. In the end, he struck it rich

and built a cabin in Circle City; and his happiness was such that men who came to visit him in his

But the Northland began to mature and social amenities to make their appearance.

Hitherto, the Southland had sent forth its sons; but it now belched forth a new exodus this time of its

daughters. Sisters and wives they were not; but they did not fail to put new ideas in the heads of the men, and

to elevate the tone of things in ways peculiarly their own. No more did the squaws gather at the dances, go

roaring down the center in the good, old Virginia reels, or make merry with jolly 'Dan Tucker.' They fell back

on their natural stoicism and uncomplainingly watched the rule of their white sisters from their cabins.

This time it was of women that became mighty in the land. Their word was law; their law was steel. They

frowned upon the Indian wives, while the other women became mild and walked humbly. There were

cowards who became ashamed of their ancient covenants with the daughters of the soil, who looked with a

new distaste upon their darkskinned children; but there were also othersmenwho remained true and

proud of their aboriginal vows. When it became the fashion to divorce the native wives. Cal Galbraith

retained his manhood, and in so doing felt the heavy hand of the women who had come last, knew least, but

One day, the Upper Country, which lies far above Circle City, was pronounced rich. Dog teams carried the

news to Salt Water; golden argosies freighted the lure across the North Pacific; wires and cables sang with

the tidings; and the world heard for the first time of the Klondike River and the Yukon Country. Cal

Galbraith had lived the years quietly. He had been a good husband to Madeline, and she had blessed him. But

somehow discontent fell upon him; he felt vague yearnings for his own kind, for the life he had been shut out

froma general sort of desire, which men sometimes feel, to break out and taste the prime of living. Besides,

there drifted down the river wild rumors of the wonderful El Dorado, glowing descriptions of the city of logs

and tents, and ludicrous accounts of the checha quas who had rushed in and were stampeding the whole

Circle City was dead. The world had moved on up river and become a new and most marvelous world.

Cal Galbraith grew restless on the edge of things, and wished to see with his own eyes.

So, after the washup, he weighed in a couple of hundred pounds of dust on the Company's big scales, and

took a draft for the same on Dawson. Then he put Tom Dixon in charge of his mines, kissed Madeline

goodby, promised to be back before the first mushice ran, and took passage on an upriver steamer.

Madeline waited, waited through all the three months of daylight. She fed the dogs, gave much of her time to

Young Cal, watched the short summer fade away and the sun begin its long journey to the south. And she

prayed much in the manner of the Sisters of the Holy Cross. The fall came, and with it there was mushice on

the Yukon, and Circle City kings returning to the winter's work at their mines, but no Cal Galbraith. Tom

Dixon received a letter, however, for his men sledded up her winter's supply of dry pine. The Company

received a letter for its dogteams filled her cache with their best provisions, and she was told that her credit

Through all the ages man has been held the chief instigator of the woes of woman; but in this case the men

held their tongues and swore harshly at one of their number who was away, while the women failed utterly to

emulate them. So, without needless delay, Madeline heard strange tales of Cal Galbraith's doings; also, of a

certain Greek dancer who played with men as children did with bubbles. Now Madeline was an Indian

woman, and further, she had no woman friend to whom to go for wise counsel. She prayed and planned by

turns, and that night, being quick of resolve and action, she harnessed the dogs, and with Young Cal securely

Though the Yukon still ran free, the eddyice was growing, and each day saw the river dwindling to a slushy

thread. Save him who has done the like, no man may know what she endured in traveling a hundred miles on

the rimice; nor may they understand the toil and hardship of breaking the two hundred miles of packed ice

which remained after the river froze for good. But Madeline was an Indian woman, so she did these things,

and one night there came a knock at Malemute Kid's door. Thereat he fed a team of starving dogs, put a

healthy youngster to bed, and turned his attention to an exhausted woman. He removed her icebound

moccasins while he listened to her tale, and stuck the point of his knife into her feet that he might see how far

Despite his tremendous virility, Malemute Kid was possessed of a softer, womanly element, which could win

the confidence of a snarling wolfdog or draw confessions from the most wintry heart. Nor did he seek them.

Hearts opened to him as spontaneously as flowers to the sun. Even the priest, Father Roubeau, had been

known to confess to him, while the men and women of the Northland were ever knocking at his doora door

from which the latchstring hung always out. To Madeline, he could do no wrong, make no mistake. She had

known him from the time she first cast her lot among the people of her father's race; and to her halfbarbaric

mind it seemed that in him was centered the wisdom of the ages, that between his vision and the future there

There were false ideals in the land. The social strictures of Dawson were not synonymous with those of the

previous era, and the swift maturity of the Northland involved much wrong. Malemute Kid was aware of this,

He knew a hasty word was the father of much evil; besides, he was minded to teach a great lesson and bring

shame upon the man. So Stanley Prince, the young mining expert, was called into the conference the

following night as was also Lucky Jack Harrington and his violin. That same night, Bettles, who owed a great

debt to Malemute Kid, harnessed up Cal Galbraith's dogs, lashed Cal Galbraith, Junior, to the sled, and

II 'So; onetwothree, onetwothree. Now reverse! No, no! Start up again, Jack. Seethis way.'

'Now; onetwothree, onetwothree. Reverse! Ah! that's better. Try it again. I say, you know, you

mustn't look at your feet. Onetwothree, onetwothree. Shorter steps! You are not hanging to the

There! that's the way. Onetwothree, onetwothree.' Round and round went Prince and Madeline in

an interminable waltz. The table and stools had been shoved over against the wall to increase the room.

Malemute Kid sat on the bunk, chin to knees, greatly interested. Jack Harrington sat beside him, scraping

The most pathetic part, perhaps, was the businesslike way in which they went about it.

No athlete was ever trained more rigidly for a coming contest, nor wolfdog for the harness, than was she.

But they had good material, for Madeline, unlike most women of her race, in her childhood had escaped the

carrying of heavy burdens and the toil of the trail. Besides, she was a cleanlimbed, willowy creature,

possessed of much grace which had not hitherto been realized. It was this grace which the men strove to bring

'Trouble with her she learned to dance all wrong,' Prince remarked to the bunk after having deposited his

breathless pupil on the table. 'She's quick at picking up; yet I could do better had she never danced a step. But

say, Kid, I can't understand this.' Prince imitated a peculiar movement of the shoulders and heada

'Lucky for her she was raised in the Mission,' Malemute Kid answered. 'Packing, you know,the

headstrap. Other Indian women have it bad, but she didn't do any packing till after she married, and then

only at first. Saw hard lines with that husband of hers. They went through the FortyMile famine together.'

Perhaps long walks with her trainers will make the riffle. Anyway, they'll take it out some, won't they,

Madeline?' The girl nodded assent. If Malemute Kid, who knew all things, said so, why it was so. That was

She had come over to them, anxious to begin again. Harrington surveyed her in quest of her points much in

the same manner men usually do horses. It certainly was not disappointing, for he asked with sudden interest,

'What did that beggarly uncle of yours get anyway?' 'One rifle, one blanket, twenty bottles of hooch. Rifle

broke.' She said this last scornfully, as though disgusted at how low her maidenvalue had been rated.

She spoke fair English, with many peculiarities of her husband's speech, but there was still perceptible the

Indian accent, the traditional groping after strange gutturals. Even this her instructors had taken in hand, and

Put her feet into slippers, and then onto that waxed floorphew!' Madeline raised a foot and regarded her

shapeless housemoccasins dubiously. In previous winters, both at Circle City and FortyMile, she had

danced many a night away with similar footgear, and there had been nothing the matter.

But nowwell, if there was anything wrong it was for Malemute Kid to know, not her.

But Malemute Kid did know, and he had a good eye for measures; so he put on his cap and mittens and went

down the hill to pay Mrs. Eppingwell a call. Her husband, Clove Eppingwell, was prominent in the

The Kid had noted her slender little foot one night, at the Governor's Ball. And as he also knew her to be as

On his return, Madeline withdrew for a moment to the inner room. When she reappeared Prince was startled.

'By Jove!' he gasped. 'Who'd a' thought it! The little witch! Why my sister' 'Is an English girl,' interrupted

Malemute Kid, 'with an English foot. This girl comes of a smallfooted race. Moccasins just broadened her

feet healthily, while she did not misshape them by running with the dogs in her childhood.' But this

explanation failed utterly to allay Prince's admiration. Harrington's commercial instinct was touched, and as

he looked upon the exquisitely turned foot and ankle, there ran through his mind the sordid list'One rifle,

one blanket, twenty bottles of hooch.' Madeline was the wife of a king, a king whose yellow treasure could

buy outright a score of fashion's puppets; yet in all her life her feet had known no gear save redtanned

moosehide. At first she had looked in awe at the tiny whitesatin slippers; but she had quickly understood the

admiration which shone, manlike, in the eyes of the men. Her face flushed with pride. For the moment she

was drunken with her woman's loveliness; then she murmured, with increased scorn, 'And one rifle, broke!'

So the training went on. Every day Malemute Kid led the girl out on long walks devoted to the correction of

There was little likelihood of her identity being discovered, for Cal Galbraith and the rest of the OldTimers

were like lost children among the many strangers who had rushed into the land. Besides, the frost of the

North has a bitter tongue, and the tender women of the South, to shield their cheeks from its biting caresses,

were prone to the use of canvas masks. With faces obscured and bodies lost in squirrelskin parkas, a mother

The coaching progressed rapidly. At first it had been slow, but later a sudden acceleration had manifested

itself. This began from the moment Madeline tried on the whitesatin slippers, and in so doing found herself.

The pride of her renegade father, apart from any natural selfesteem she might possess, at that instant

received its birth. Hitherto, she had deemed herself a woman of an alien breed, of inferior stock, purchased by

her lord's favor. Her husband had seemed to her a god, who had lifted her, through no essential virtues on her

part, to his own godlike level. But she had never forgotten, even when Young Cal was born, that she was not

of his people. As he had been a god, so had his womenkind been goddesses. She might have contrasted

It might have been that familiarity bred contempt; however, be that as it may, she had ultimately come to

True, her mind was dark to deliberate analysis, but she yet possessed her woman's clarity of vision in such

matters. On the night of the slippers she had measured the bold, open admiration of her three manfriends;

and for the first time comparison had suggested itself. It was only a foot and an ankle, butbut comparison

could not, in the nature of things, cease at that point. She judged herself by their standards till the divinity of

her white sisters was shattered. After all, they were only women, and why should she not exalt herself to their

midst? In doing these things she learned where she lacked and with the knowledge of her weakness came her

strength. And so mightily did she strive that her three trainers often marveled late into the night over the

In this way Thanksgiving Night drew near. At irregular intervals Bettles sent word down from Stuart River

regarding the welfare of Young Cal. The time of their return was approaching. More than once a casual

caller, hearing dancemusic and the rhythmic pulse of feet, entered, only to find Harrington scraping away

and the other two beating time or arguing noisily over a mooted step. Madeline was never in evidence, having

On one of these nights Cal Galbraith dropped in. Encouraging news had just come down from Stuart River,

and Madeline had surpassed herselfnot in walk alone, and carriage and grace, but in womanly roguishness.

They had indulged in sharp repartee and she had defended herself brilliantly; and then, yielding to the

intoxication of the moment, and of her own power, she had bullied, and mastered, and wheedled, and

patronized them with most astonishing success. And instinctively, involuntarily, they had bowed, not to her

beauty, her wisdom, her wit, but to that indefinable something in woman to which man yields yet cannot

The room was dizzy with sheer delight as she and Prince whirled through the last dance of the evening.

Harrington was throwing in inconceivable flourishes, while Malemute Kid, utterly abandoned, had seized the

At this instant the door shook with a heavy raprap, and their quick glances noted the lifting of the latch. But

they had survived similar situations before. Harrington never broke a note. Madeline shot through the waiting

door to the inner room. The broom went hurtling under the bunk, and by the time Cal Galbraith and Louis

Savoy got their heads in, Malemute Kid and Prince were in each other's arms, wildly schottisching down the

As a rule, Indian women do not make a practice of fainting on provocation, but Madeline came as near to it as

she ever had in her life. For an hour she crouched on the floor, listening to the heavy voices of the men

rumbling up and down in mimic thunder. Like familiar chords of childhood melodies, every intonation, every

trick of her husband's voice swept in upon her, fluttering her heart and weakening her knees till she lay half

fainting against the door. It was well she could neither see nor hear when he took his departure.

'Haven't thought much about it,' he replied. 'Don't think till after the ice breaks.' 'And Madeline?'

He flushed at the question, and there was a quick droop to his eyes. Malemute Kid could have despised him

for that, had he known men less. As it was, his gorge rose against the wives and daughters who had come into

the land, and not satisfied with usurping the place of the native women, had put unclean thoughts in the heads

'I guess she's all right,' the Circle City King answered hastily, and in an apologetic manner. 'Tom Dixon's got

charge of my interests, you know, and he sees to it that she has everything she wants.' Malemute Kid laid

hand upon his arm and hushed him suddenly. They had stepped without. Overhead, the aurora, a gorgeous

wanton, flaunted miracles of color; beneath lay the sleeping town. Far below, a solitary dog gave tongue.

The King again began to speak, but the Kid pressed his hand for silence. The sound multiplied. Dog after dog

To him who hears for the first time this weird song, is told the first and greatest secret of the Northland; to

him who has heard it often, it is the solemn knell of lost endeavor. It is the plaint of tortured souls, for in it is

invested the heritage of the North, the suffering of countless generationsthe warning and the requiem to the

Cal Galbraith shivered slightly as it died away in halfcaught sobs. The Kid read his thoughts openly, and

wandered back with him through all the weary days of famine and disease; and with him was also the patient

Madeline, sharing his pains and perils, never doubting, never complaining. His mind's retina vibrated to a

score of pictures, stern, clearcut, and the hand of the past drew back with heavy fingers on his heart. It was

the psychological moment. Malemute Kid was halftempted to play his reserve card and win the game; but the

lesson was too mild as yet, and he let it pass. The next instant they had gripped hands, and the King's beaded

moccasins were drawing protests from the outraged snow as he crunched down the hill.

Madeline in collapse was another woman to the mischievous creature of an hour before, whose laughter had

been so infectious and whose heightened color and flashing eyes had made her teachers for the while forget.

Weak and nerveless, she sat in the chair just as she had been dropped there by Prince and Harrington.

Malemute Kid frowned. This would never do. When the time of meeting her husband came to hand, she must

carry things off with highhanded imperiousness. It was very necessary she should do it after the manner of

white women, else the victory would be no victory at all. So he talked to her, sternly, without mincing of

words, and initiated her into the weaknesses of his own sex, till she came to understand what simpletons men

Eppingwell. She promptly overhauled her feminine fripperies, paid a protracted visit to the drygoods

department of the P. C. Company, and returned with the Kid to make Madeline's acquaintance. After that

came a period such as the cabin had never seen before, and what with cutting, and fitting, and basting, and

stitching, and numerous other wonderful and unknowable things, the male conspirators were more often

banished the premises than not. At such times the Opera House opened its double stormdoors to them.

So often did they put their heads together, and so deeply did they drink to curious toasts, that the loungers

scented unknown creeks of incalculable richness, and it is known that several chechaquas and at least one

OldTimer kept their stampeding packs stored behind the bar, ready to hit the trail at a moment's notice.

Mrs. Eppingwell was a woman of capacity; so, when she turned Madeline over to her trainers on

Thanksgiving Night she was so transformed that they were almost afraid of her. Prince wrapped a Hudson

Bay blanket about her with a mock reverence more real than feigned, while Malemute Kid, whose arm she

had taken, found it a severe trial to resume his wonted mentorship. Harrington, with the list of purchases still

running through his head, dragged along in the rear, nor opened his mouth once all the way down into the

town. When they came to the back door of the Opera House they took the blanket from Madeline's shoulders

and spread it on the snow. Slipping out of Prince's moccasins, she stepped upon it in new satin slippers. The

masquerade was at its height. She hesitated, but they jerked open the door and shoved her in. Then they ran

III 'Where is Freda?' the OldTimers questioned, while the chechaquas were equally energetic in asking

It was on everybody's lips. Grizzled 'sourdough boys,' daylaborers at the mines but proud of their degree,

either patronized the sprucelooking tenderfeet and lied eloquently the 'sourdough boys' being specially

created to toy with truthor gave them savage looks of indignation because of their ignorance. Perhaps forty

kings of the Upper and Lower Countries were on the floor, each deeming himself hot on the trail and sturdily

backing his judgment with the yellow dust of the realm. An assistant was sent to the man at the scales, upon

whom had fallen the burden of weighing up the sacks, while several of the gamblers, with the rules of chance

Which was Freda? Time and again the 'Greek Dancer' was thought to have been discovered, but each

discovery brought panic to the betting ring and a frantic registering of new wagers by those who wished to

hedge. Malemute Kid took an interest in the hunt, his advent being hailed uproariously by the revelers, who

knew him to a man. The Kid had a good eye for the trick of a step, and ear for the lilt of a voice, and his

private choice was a marvelous creature who scintillated as the 'Aurora Borealis.' But the Greek dancer was

too subtle for even his penetration. The majority of the goldhunters seemed to have centered their verdict on

the 'Russian Princess,' who was the most graceful in the room, and hence could be no other than Freda

During a quadrille a roar of satisfaction went up. She was discovered. At previous balls, in the figure, 'all

hands round,' Freda had displayed an inimitable step and variation peculiarly her own. As the figure was

called, the 'Russian Princess' gave the unique rhythm to limb and body. A chorus of Itoldyouso's shook

the squared roofbeams, when lo! it was noticed that 'Aurora Borealis' and another masque, the 'Spirit of the

Pole,' were performing the same trick equally well. And when two twin 'SunDogs' and a 'Frost Queen'

followed suit, a second assistant was dispatched to the aid of the man at the scales.

Bettles came off trail in the midst of the excitement, descending upon them in a hurricane of frost. His rimed

brows turned to cataracts as he whirled about; his mustache, still frozen, seemed gemmed with diamonds and

turned the light in varicolored rays; while the flying feet slipped on the chunks of ice which rattled from his

moccasins and German socks. A Northland dance is quite an informal affair, the men of the creeks and trails

having lost whatever fastidiousness they might have at one time possessed; and only in the high official

circles are conventions at all observed. Here, caste carried no significance. Millionaires and paupers,

dogdrivers and mounted policemen joined hands with 'ladies in the center,' and swept around the circle

performing most remarkable capers. Primitive in their pleasure, boisterous and rough, they displayed no

rudeness, but rather a crude chivalry more genuine than the most polished courtesy.

In his quest for the 'Greek Dancer,' Cal Galbraith managed to get into the same set with the 'Russian Princess,'

But by the time he had guided her through one dance, he was willing not only to stake his millions that she

was not Freda, but that he had had his arm about her waist before. When or where he could not tell, but the

puzzling sense of familiarity so wrought upon him that he turned his attention to the discovery of her identity.

Malemute Kid might have aided him instead of occasionally taking the Princess for a few turns and talking

earnestly to her in low tones. But it was Jack Harrington who paid the 'Russian Princess' the most assiduous

court. Once he drew Cal Galbraith aside and hazarded wild guesses as to who she was, and explained to him

that he was going in to win. That rankled the Circle City King, for man is not by nature monogamic, and he

It was soon noised about that the 'Russian Princess' was not Freda Moloof. Interest deepened. Here was a

fresh enigma. They knew Freda though they could not find her, but here was somebody they had found and

did not know. Even the women could not place her, and they knew every good dancer in the camp. Many

took her for one of the official clique, indulging in a silly escapade. Not a few asserted she would disappear

before the unmasking. Others were equally positive that she was the womanreporter of the Kansas City Star,

come to write them up at ninety dollars per column. And the men at the scales worked busily.

At one o'clock every couple took to the floor. The unmasking began amid laughter and delight, like that of

carefree children. There was no end of Oh's and Ah's as mask after mask was lifted. The scintillating 'Aurora

Borealis' became the brawny negress whose income from washing the community's clothes ran at about five

hundred a month. The twin 'SunDogs' discovered mustaches on their upper lips, and were recognized as

brother FractionKings of El Dorado. In one of the most prominent sets, and the slowest in uncovering, was

Cal Galbraith with the 'Spirit of the Pole.' Opposite him was Jack Harrington and the 'Russian Princess.' The

rest had discovered themselves, yet the 'Greek Dancer' was still missing. All eyes were upon the group. Cal

Galbraith, in response to their cries, lifted his partner's mask. Freda's wonderful face and brilliant eyes flashed

out upon them. A roar went up, to be squelched suddenly in the new and absorbing mystery of the 'Russian

Princess.' Her face was still hidden, and Jack Harrington was struggling with her. The dancers tittered on the

tiptoes of expectancy. He crushed her dainty costume roughly, and thenand then the revelers exploded.

But those that knew, and they were many, ceased abruptly, and a hush fell upon the room.

Cal Galbraith crossed over with great strides, angrily, and spoke to Madeline in polyglot Chinook. But she

retained her composure, apparently oblivious to the fact that she was the cynosure of all eyes, and answered

him in English. She showed neither fright nor anger, and Malemute Kid chuckled at her wellbred

equanimity. The King felt baffled, defeated; his common Siwash wife had passed beyond him.

'Come!' he said finally. 'Come on home.' 'I beg pardon,' she replied; 'I have agreed to go to supper with Mr.

Harrington extended his arm to lead her away. He evinced not the slightest disinclination toward showing his

back, but Malemute Kid had by this time edged in closer. The Circle City King was stunned. Twice his hand

dropped to his belt, and twice the Kid gathered himself to spring; but the retreating couple passed through the

The crowd sighed audibly, broke up into couples, and followed them. Freda pouted and went in with Cal

Galbraith; but she had a good heart and a sure tongue, and she spoiled his oysters for him. What she said is of

no importance, but his face went red and white at intervals, and he swore repeatedly and savagely at himself.

The supperroom was filled with a pandemonium of voices, which ceased suddenly as Cal Galbraith stepped

over to his wife's table. Since the unmasking considerable weights of dust had been placed as to the outcome.

Harrington's blue eyes were steady, but under the overhanging tablecloth a Smith Wesson balanced on his

The sleds were singing their eternal lament to the creaking of the harness and the tinkling bells of the leaders;

but the men and dogs were tired and made no sound. The trail was heavy with newfallen snow, and they had

come far, and the runners, burdened with flint like quarters of frozen moose, clung tenaciously to the

Darkness was coming on, but there was no camp to pitch that night. The snow fell gently through the

pulseless air, not in flakes, but in tiny frost crystals of delicate design. It was very warmbarely ten below

zeroand the men did not mind. Meyers and Bettles had raised their ear flaps, while Malemute Kid had even

The dogs had been fagged out early in the after noon, but they now began to show new vigor. Among the

more astute there was a certain restlessnessan impatience at the restraint of the traces, an indecisive

quickness of movement, a sniffing of snouts and pricking of ears. These became incensed at their more

phlegmatic brothers, urging them on with numerous sly nips on their hinder quarters. Those, thus chidden,

also contracted and helped spread the contagion. At last the leader of the foremost sled uttered a sharp whine

of satisfaction, crouching lower in the snow and throwing himself against the collar. The rest followed suit.

There was an ingathering of back hands, a tightening of traces; the sleds leaped forward, and the men clung to

the gee poles, violently accelerating the uplift of their feet that they might escape going under the runners.

The weariness of the day fell from them, and they whooped encouragement to the dogs. The animals

responded with joyous yelps. They were swinging through the gathering darkness at a rattling gallop.

'Gee! Gee!' the men cried, each in turn, as their sleds abruptly left the main trail, heeling over on single

Then came a hundred yards' dash to the lighted parchment window, which told its own story of the home

cabin, the roaring Yukon stove, and the steaming pots of tea. But the home cabin had been invaded.

Threescore huskies chorused defiance, and as many furry forms precipitated themselves upon the dogs which

drew the first sled. The door was flung open, and a man, clad in the scarlet tunic of the Northwest Police,

waded kneedeep among the furious brutes, calmly and impartially dispensing soothing justice with the butt

end of a dog whip. After that the men shook hands; and in this wise was Malemute Kid welcomed to his own

Stanley Prince, who should have welcomed him, and who was responsible for the Yukon stove and hot tea

aforementioned, was busy with his guests. There were a dozen or so of them, as nondescript a crowd as ever

served the Queen in the enforcement of her laws or the delivery of her mails. They were of many breeds, but

their common life had formed of them a certain typea lean and wiry type, with trailhardened muscles, and

sun browned faces, and untroubled souls which gazed frankly forth, cleareyed and steady.

They drove the dogs of the Queen, wrought fear in the hearts of her enemies, ate of her meager fare, and were

happy. They had seen life, and done deeds, and lived romances; but they did not know it.

And they were very much at home. Two of them were sprawled upon Malemute Kid's bunk, singing

chansons which their French forebears sang in the days when first they entered the Northwest land and mated

with its Indian women. Bettles' bunk had suffered a similar invasion, and three or four lusty voyageurs

worked their toes among its blankets as they listened to the tale of one who had served on the boat brigade

And when he tired, a cowboy told of courts and kings and lords and ladies he had seen when Buffalo Bill

toured the capitals of Europe. In a corner two halfbreeds, ancient comrades in a lost campaign, mended

harnesses and talked of the days when the Northwest flamed with insurrection and Louis Riel was king.

Rough jests and rougher jokes went up and down, and great hazards by trail and river were spoken of in the

light of commonplaces, only to be recalled by virtue of some grain of humor or ludicrous happening. Prince

was led away by these uncrowned heroes who had seen history made, who regarded the great and the

romantic as but the ordinary and the incidental in the routine of life. He passed his precious tobacco among

them with lavish disregard, and rusty chains of reminiscence were loosened, and forgotten odysseys

When conversation dropped and the travelers filled the last pipes and lashed their tight rolled sleeping furs.

'Well, you know what the cowboy is,' Malemute Kid answered, beginning to unlace his moccasins; 'and it's

not hard to guess the British blood in his bed partner. As for the rest, they're all children of the coureurs du

bois, mingled with God knows how many other bloods. The two turning in by the door are the regulation

'breeds' or Boisbrules. That lad with the worsted breech scarfnotice his eyebrows and the turn of his

jawshows a Scotchman wept in his mother's smoky tepee. And that handsome looking fellow putting the

capote under his head is a French halfbreedyou heard him talking; he doesn't like the two Indians turning

in next to him. You see, when the 'breeds' rose under the Riel the fullbloods kept the peace, and they've not

lost much love for one another since.' 'But I say, what's that glumlooking fellow by the stove? I'll swear he

can't talk English. He hasn't opened his mouth all night.' 'You're wrong. He knows English well enough. Did

you follow his eyes when he listened? I did. But he's neither kith nor kin to the others.

When they talked their own patois you could see he didn't understand. I've been wondering myself what he is.

Malemute Kid commanded, raising his voice and looking squarely at the man in question.

Malemute Kid nodded, took off his socks, and picked his way among recumbent men to the stove. There he

So? Maybe two days.' The very slightest accent was perceptible, while there was no awkward hesitancy or

'Been in the country before?' 'No.' 'Northwest Territory?' 'Yes.' 'Born there?' 'No.'

'Well, where the devil were you born? You're none of these.' Malemute Kid swept his hand over the dog

drivers, even including the two policemen who had turned into Prince's bunk. 'Where did you come from?

I've seen faces like yours before, though I can't remember just where.' 'I know you,' he irrelevantly replied, at

'Where? Ever see me?' 'No; your partner, him priest, Pastilik, long time ago. Him ask me if I see you,

Malemute Kid. Him give me grub. I no stop long. You hear him speak 'bout me?' 'Oh! you're the fellow that

traded the otter skins for the dogs?' The man nodded, knocked out his pipe, and signified his disinclination for

conversation by rolling up in his furs. Malemute Kid blew out the slush lamp and crawled under the blankets

'Well, what is he?' 'Don't knowturned me off, somehow, and then shut up like a clam.

But he's a fellow to whet your curiosity. I've heard of him. All the coast wondered about him eight years ago.

Sort of mysterious, you know. He came down out of the North in the dead of winter, many a thousand miles

from here, skirting Bering Sea and traveling as though the devil were after him. No one ever learned where he

came from, but he must have come far. He was badly travelworn when he got food from the Swedish

missionary on Golovin Bay and asked the way south. We heard of all this afterward. Then he abandoned the

shore line, heading right across Norton Sound. Terrible weather, snowstorms and high winds, but he pulled

through where a thousand other men would have died, missing St. Michaels and making the land at Pastilik.

'He was so anxious to go on that Father Roubeau fitted him out with grub; but he couldn't let him have any

dogs, for he was only waiting my arrival, to go on a trip himself. Mr. Ulysses knew too much to start on

without animals, and fretted around for several days. He had on his sled a bunch of beautifully cured otter

skins, sea otters, you know, worth their weight in gold. There was also at Pastilik an old Shylock of a Russian

trader, who had dogs to kill. Well, they didn't dicker very long, but when the Strange One headed south again,

it was in the rear of a spanking dog team. Mr. Shylock, by the way, had the otter skins. I saw them, and they

were magnificent. We figured it up and found the dogs brought him at least five hundred apiece. And it

wasn't as if the Strange One didn't know the value of sea otter; he was an Indian of some sort, and what little

'After the ice passed out of the sea, word came up from Nunivak Island that he'd gone in there for grub. Then

he dropped from sight, and this is the first heard of him in eight years. Now where did he come from? and

what was he doing there? and why did he come from there? He's Indian, he's been nobody knows where, and

he's had discipline, which is unusual for an Indian. Another mystery of the North for you to solve, Prince.'

Malemute Kid was already breathing heavily; but the young mining engineer gazed straight up through the

thick darkness, waiting for the strange orgasm which stirred his blood to die away. And when he did sleep,

his brain worked on, and for the nonce he, too, wandered through the white unknown, struggled with the dogs

on endless trails, and saw men live, and toil, and die like men. The next morning, hours before daylight, the

dog drivers and policemen pulled out for Dawson. But the powers that saw to Her Majesty's interests and

ruled the destinies of her lesser creatures gave the mailmen little rest, for a week later they appeared at Stuart

The men had expected some sort of a layover in which to rest up; besides, this Klondike was a new section of

the Northland, and they had wished to see a little something of the Golden City where dust flowed like water

and dance halls rang with neverending revelry. But they dried their socks and smoked their evening pipes

with much the same gusto as on their former visit, though one or two bold spirits speculated on desertion and

the possibility of crossing the unexplored Rockies to the east, and thence, by the Mackenzie Valley, of

Two or three even decided to return to their homes by that route when their terms of service had expired, and

they began to lay plans forthwith, looking forward to the hazardous undertaking in much the same way a

He of the Otter Skins seemed very restless, though he took little interest in the discussion, and at last he drew

Prince cast curious eyes in their direction, and the mystery deepened when they put on caps and mittens and

went outside. When they returned, Malemute Kid placed his gold scales on the table, weighed out the matter

of sixty ounces, and transferred them to the Strange One's sack. Then the chief of the dog drivers joined the

The next day the gang went on upriver, but He of the Otter Skins took several pounds of grub and turned his

'Didn't know what to make of it,' said Malemute Kid in response to Prince's queries; 'but the poor beggar

wanted to be quit of the service for some reason or otherat least it seemed a most important one to him,

though he wouldn't let on what. You see, it's just like the army: he signed for two years, and the only way to

get free was to buy himself out. He couldn't desert and then stay here, and he was just wild to remain in the

Made up his mind when he got to Dawson, he said; but no one knew him, hadn't a cent, and I was the only

one he'd spoken two words with. So he talked it over with the lieutenantgovernor, and made arrangements

in case he could get the money from me loan, you know. Said he'd pay back in the year, and, if I wanted,

'And talk! why, when he got me outside he was ready to weep. Begged and pleaded; got down in the snow to

Swore he's worked to this very end for years and years, and couldn't bear to be disappointed now. Asked him

Said they might keep him on the other half of the trail and he wouldn't get to Dawson in two years, and then it

would be too late. Never saw a man take on so in my life. And when I said I'd let him have it, had to yank

him out of the snow again. Told him to consider it in the light of a grubstake. Think he'd have it? No sir!

Swore he'd give me all he found, make me rich beyond the dreams of avarice, and all such stuff. Now a man

who puts his life and time against a grubstake ordinarily finds it hard enough to turn over half of what he

finds. Something behind all this, Prince; just you make a note of it. We'll hear of him if he stays in the

country' 'And if he doesn't?' 'Then my good nature gets a shock, and I'm sixty some odd ounces out.' The

cold weather had come on with the long nights, and the sun had begun to play his ancient game of peekaboo

along the southern snow line ere aught was heard of Malemute Kid's grubstake. And then, one bleak morning

in early January, a heavily laden dog train pulled into his cabin below Stuart River. He of the Otter Skins was

there, and with him walked a man such as the gods have almost forgotten how to fashion. Men never talked

of luck and pluck and five hundreddollar dirt without bringing in the name of Axel Gunderson; nor could

tales of nerve or strength or daring pass up and down the campfire without the summoning of his presence.

And when the conversation flagged, it blazed anew at mention of the woman who shared his fortunes.

As has been noted, in the making of Axel Gunderson the gods had remembered their old time cunning and

cast him after the manner of men who were born when the world was young. Full seven feet he towered in his

picturesque costume which marked a king of Eldorado. His chest, neck, and limbs were those of a giant. To

bear his three hundred pounds of bone and muscle, his snowshoes were greater by a generous yard than those

of other men. Roughhewn, with rugged brow and massive jaw and unflinching eyes of palest blue, his face

told the tale of one who knew but the law of might. Of the yellow of ripe corn silk, his frostincrusted hair

A vague tradition of the sea seemed to cling about him as he swung down the narrow trail in advance of the

dogs; and he brought the butt of his dog whip against Malemute Kid's door as a Norse sea rover, on southern

Prince bared his womanly arms and kneaded sourdough bread, casting, as he did so, many a glance at the

three gueststhree guests the like of which might never come under a man's roof in a lifetime. The Strange

One, whom Malemute Kid had surnamed Ulysses, still fascinated him; but his interest chiefly gravitated

between Axel Gunderson and Axel Gunderson's wife. She felt the day's journey, for she had softened in

comfortable cabins during the many days since her husband mastered the wealth of frozen pay streaks, and

she was tired. She rested against his great breast like a slender flower against a wall, replying lazily to

Malemute Kid's goodnatured banter, and stirring Prince's blood strangely with an occasional sweep of her

deep, dark eyes. For Prince was a man, and healthy, and had seen few women in many months. And she was

older than he, and an Indian besides. But she was different from all native wives he had met: she had

traveledhad been in his country among others, he gathered from the conversation; and she knew most of

the things the women of his own race knew, and much more that it was not in the nature of things for them to

know. She could make a meal of sundried fish or a bed in the snow; yet she teased them with tantalizing

details of manycourse dinners, and caused strange internal dissensions to arise at the mention of various

quondam dishes which they had wellnigh forgotten. She knew the ways of the moose, the bear, and the little

blue fox, and of the wild amphibians of the Northern seas; she was skilled in the lore of the woods, and the

streams, and the tale writ by man and bird and beast upon the delicate snow crust was to her an open book;

yet Prince caught the appreciative twinkle in her eye as she read the Rules of the Camp. These rules had been

fathered by the Unquenchable Bettles at a time when his blood ran high, and were remarkable for the terse

Prince always turned them to the wall before the arrival of ladies; but who could suspect that this native

This, then, was the wife of Axel Gunderson, a woman whose name and fame had traveled with her husband's,

hand in hand, through all the Northland. At table, Malemute Kid baited her with the assurance of an old

friend, and Prince shook off the shyness of first acquaintance and joined in. But she held her own in the

unequal contest, while her husband, slower in wit, ventured naught but applause. And he was very proud of

her; his every look and action revealed the magnitude of the place she occupied in his life. He of the Otter

Skins ate in silence, forgotten in the merry battle; and long ere the others were done he pushed back from the

table and went out among the dogs. Yet all too soon his fellow travelers drew on their mittens and parkas and

There had been no snow for many days, and the sleds slipped along the hardpacked Yukon trail as easily as if

it had been glare ice. Ulysses led the first sled; with the second came Prince and Axel Gunderson's wife;

'It's only a hunch, Kid,' he said, 'but I think it's straight. He's never been there, but he tells a good story, and

shows a map I heard of when I was in the Kootenay country years ago. I'd like to have you go along; but he's

a strange one, and swore pointblank to throw it up if anyone was brought in. But when I come back you'll

get first tip, and I'll stake you next to me, and give you a half share in the town site besides.' 'No! no!' he

cried, as the other strove to interrupt. 'I'm running this, and before I'm done it'll need two heads.

If it's all right, why, it'll be a second Cripple Creek, man; do you hear?a second Cripple Creek! It's quartz,

you know, not placer; and if we work it right we'll corral the whole thingmillions upon millions. I've heard

of the place before, and so have you. We'll build a townthousands of workmengood

waterwayssteamship linesbig carrying tradelightdraught steamers for head reachessurvey a

companysyndicateSay! Just you hold your hush till I get back!' The sleds came to a halt where the trail

crossed the mouth of Stuart River. An unbroken sea of frost, its wide expanse stretched away into the

The snowshoes were withdrawn from the lashings of the sleds. Axel Gunderson shook hands and stepped to

the fore, his great webbed shoes sinking a fair half yard into the feathery surface and packing the snow so the

dogs should not wallow. His wife fell in behind the last sled, betraying long practice in the art of handling the

awkward footgear, The stillness was broken with cheery farewells; the dogs whined; and He of the Otter

An hour later the train had taken on the likeness of a black pencil crawling in a long, straight line across a

II One night, many weeks later, Malemute Kid and Prince fell to solving chess problems from the torn page

of an ancient magazine. The Kid had just returned from his Bonanza properties and was resting up

Prince, too, had been on creek and trail nearly all winter, and had grown hungry for a blissful week of cabin

'Interpose the black knight, and force the king. No, that won't do. See, the next move'

'Why advance the pawn two squares? Bound to take it in transit, and with the bishop out of the way' 'But

hold on! That leaves a hole, and' 'No; it's protected. Go ahead! You'll see it works.' It was very interesting.

Somebody knocked at the door a second time before Malemute Kid said, 'Come in.' The door swung open.

Prince caught one square look and sprang to his feet. The horror in his eyes caused Malemute Kid to whirl

about; and he, too, was startled, though he had seen bad things before. The thing tottered blindly toward

them. Prince edged away till he reached the nail from which hung his Smith Wesson.

'Don't know. Looks like a case of freezing and no grub,' replied the Kid, sliding away in the opposite

direction. 'Watch out! It may be mad,' he warned, coming back from closing the door.

The thing advanced to the table. The bright flame of the slush lamp caught its eye. It was amused, and gave

Then, suddenly, hefor it was a manswayed back, with a hitch to his skin trousers, and began to sing a

chantey, such as men lift when they swing around the capstan circle and the sea snorts in their ears: Yankee

ship come down de riiber, Pull! my bully boys! Pull! D'yeh wantto know de captain ruuns her? Pull!

my bully boys! Pull! Jonathan Jones ob South Caholiina, Pull! my bullyHe broke off abruptly, tottered

with a wolfish snarl to the meat shelf, and before they could intercept was tearing with his teeth at a chunk of

raw bacon. The struggle was fierce between him and Malemute Kid; but his mad strength left him as

suddenly as it had come, and he weakly surrendered the spoil. Between them they got him upon a stool,

A small dose of whiskey strengthened him, so that he could dip a spoon into the sugar caddy which

Malemute Kid placed before him. After his appetite had been somewhat cloyed, Prince, shuddering as he did

The creature's eyes were alight with a somber frenzy, which blazed and waned with every mouthful. There

was very little skin to the face. The face, for that matter, sunken and emaciated, bore little likeness to human

Frost after frost had bitten deeply, each depositing its stratum of scab upon the half healed scar that went

before. This dry, hard surface was of a bloodyblack color, serrated by grievous cracks wherein the raw red

flesh peeped forth. His skin garments were dirty and in tatters, and the fur of one side was singed and burned

Malemute Kid pointed to where the suntanned hide had been cut away, strip by stripthe grim signature of

'Where do you come from?' 'Yankee ship come down de riiber,' was the quavering response.

'Don't doubt the beggar came down the river,' the Kid said, shaking him in an endeavor to start a more lucid

But the man shrieked at the contact, clapping a hand to his side in evident pain. He rose slowly to his feet,

'She laughed at mesowith the hate in her eye; and shewouldnotcome.' His voice died away, and

he was sinking back when Malemute Kid gripped him by the wrist and shouted, 'Who? Who would not

'And then' 'And then what?' 'And then he lay very still in the snow a long time. He is still inthesnow.'

'Who is in the snow?' 'She, Unga. She looked at me with the hate in her eye, and then'

'Yes, yes.' 'And then she took the knife, so; and once, twiceshe was weak. I traveled very slow. And there

is much gold in that place, very much gold.' 'Where is Unga?' For all Malemute Kid knew, she might be

dying a mile away. He shook the man savagely, repeating again and again, 'Where is Unga? Who is Unga?'

debttopayadebttopay Ihad' The faltering monosyllables ceased as he fumbled in his

grubstakeMalemuteKidI' The exhausted head dropped upon the table; nor could Malemute

'It's Ulysses,' he said quietly, tossing the bag of dust on the table. 'Guess it's all day with Axel Gunderson and

the woman. Come on, let's get him between the blankets. He's Indian; he'll pull through and tell a tale

besides.' As they cut his garments from him, near his right breast could be seen two unhealed, hardlipped

III 'I will talk of the things which were in my own way; but you will understand.

I will begin at the beginning, and tell of myself and the woman, and, after that, of the man.' He of the Otter

Skins drew over to the stove as do men who have been deprived of fire and are afraid the Promethean gift

may vanish at any moment. Malemute Kid picked up the slush lamp and placed it so its light might fall upon

the face of the narrator. Prince slid his body over the edge of the bunk and joined them.

'I am Naass, a chief, and the son of a chief, born between a sunset and a rising, on the dark seas, in my

father's oomiak. All of a night the men toiled at the paddles, and the women cast out the waves which threw

in upon us, and we fought with the storm. The salt spray froze upon my mother's breast till her breath passed

with the passing of the tide. But II raised my voice with the wind and the storm, and lived.

'Akatan, which is in the Aleutians; Akatan, beyond Chignik, beyond Kardalak, beyond Unimak. As I say, we

dwelt in Akatan, which lies in the midst of the sea on the edge of the world. We farmed the salt seas for the

fish, the seal, and the otter; and our homes shouldered about one another on the rocky strip between the rim

of the forest and the yellow beach where our kayaks lay. We were not many, and the world was very small.

There were strange lands to the eastislands like Akatan; so we thought all the world was islands and did

'I was different from my people. In the sands of the beach were the crooked timbers and wavewarped planks

of a boat such as my people never built; and I remember on the point of the island which overlooked the

ocean three ways there stood a pine tree which never grew there, smooth and straight and tall. It is said the

two men came to that spot, turn about, through many days, and watched with the passing of the light. These

two men came from out of the sea in the boat which lay in pieces on the beach. And they were white like you,

and weak as the little children when the seal have gone away and the hunters come home empty. I know of

these things from the old men and the old women, who got them from their fathers and mothers before them.

These strange white men did not take kindly to our ways at first, but they grew strong, what of the fish and

the oil, and fierce. And they built them each his own house, and took the pick of our women, and in time

children came. Thus he was born who was to become the father of my father's father.

'As I said, I was different from my people, for I carried the strong, strange blood of this white man who came

out of the sea. It is said we had other laws in the days before these men; but they were fierce and

quarrelsome, and fought with our men till there were no more left who dared to fight. Then they made

themselves chiefs, and took away our old laws, and gave us new ones, insomuch that the man was the son of

his father, and not his mother, as our way had been. They also ruled that the son, firstborn, should have all

things which were his father's before him, and that the brothers and sisters should shift for themselves. And

they gave us other laws. They showed us new ways in the catching of fish and the killing of bear which were

thick in the woods; and they taught us to lay by bigger stores for the time of famine. And these things were

'But when they had become chiefs, and there were no more men to face their anger, they fought, these strange

white men, each with the other. And the one whose blood I carry drove his seal spear the length of an arm

through the other's body. Their children took up the fight, and their children's children; and there was great

hatred between them, and black doings, even to my time, so that in each family but one lived to pass down

the blood of them that went before. Of my blood I was alone; of the other man's there was but a girl. Unga,

who lived with her mother. Her father and my father did not come back from the fishing one night; but

afterward they washed up to the beach on the big tides, and they held very close to each other.

'The people wondered, because of the hatred between the houses, and the old men shook their heads and said

the fight would go on when children were born to her and children to me. They told me this as a boy, till I

came to believe, and to look upon Unga as a foe, who was to be the mother of children which were to fight

with mine. I thought of these things day by day, and when I grew to a stripling I came to ask why this should

And they answered, "We do not know, but that in such way your fathers did." And I marveled that those

which were to come should fight the battles of those that were gone, and in it I could see no right. But the

'And they said I must hurry, that my blood might be the older and grow strong before hers. This was easy, for

I was head man, and the people looked up to me because of the deeds and the laws of my fathers, and the

wealth which was mine. Any maiden would come to me, but I found none to my liking. And the old men and

the mothers of maidens told me to hurry, for even then were the hunters bidding high to the mother of Unga;

'Nor did I find a maiden till one night coming back from the fishing. The sunlight was lying, so, low and full

in the eyes, the wind free, and the kayacks racing with the white seas. Of a sudden the kayak of Unga came

driving past me, and she looked upon me, so, with her black hair flying like a cloud of night and the spray

wet on her cheek. As I say, the sunlight was full in the eyes, and I was a stripling; but somehow it was all

As she whipped ahead she looked back within the space of two strokeslooked as only the woman Unga

could lookand again I knew it as the call of kind. The people shouted as we ripped past the lazy oomiaks

and left them far behind. But she was quick at the paddle, and my heart was like the belly of a sail, and I did

not gain. The wind freshened, the sea whitened, and, leaping like the seals on the windward breech, we roared

down the golden pathway of the sun.' Naass was crouched half out of his stool, in the attitude of one driving a

paddle, as he ran the race anew. Somewhere across the stove he beheld the tossing kayak and the flying hair

of Unga. The voice of the wind was in his ears, and its salt beat fresh upon his nostrils.

'But she made the shore, and ran up the sand, laughing, to the house of her mother. And a great thought came

to me that nighta thought worthy of him that was chief over all the people of Akatan. So, when the moon

was up, I went down to the house of her mother, and looked upon the goods of YashNoosh, which were

piled by the doorthe goods of YashNoosh, a strong hunter who had it in mind to be the father of the

Other young men had piled their goods there and taken them away again; and each young man had made a

'And I laughed to the moon and the stars, and went to my own house where my wealth was stored. And many

trips I made, till my pile was greater by the fingers of one hand than the pile of YashNoosh. There were fish,

dried in the sun and smoked; and forty hides of the hair seal, and half as many of the fur, and each hide was

tied at the mouth and big bellied with oil; and ten skins of bear which I killed in the woods when they came

out in the spring. And there were beads and blankets and scarlet cloths, such as I got in trade from the people

who lived to the east, and who got them in trade from the people who lived still beyond in the east.

And I looked upon the pile of YashNoosh and laughed, for I was head man in Akatan, and my wealth was

greater than the wealth of all my young men, and my fathers had done deeds, and given laws, and put their

'So, when the morning came, I went down to the beach, casting out of the corner of my eye at the house of the

And the women smiled, and said sly things one to the other. I wondered, for never had such a price been

offered; and that night I added more to the pile, and put beside it a kayak of welltanned skins which never

yet had swam in the sea. But in the day it was yet there, open to the laughter of all men. The mother of Unga

was crafty, and I grew angry at the shame in which I stood before my people. So that night I added till it

became a great pile, and I hauled up my oomiak, which was of the value of twenty kayaks. And in the

'Then made I preparation for the wedding, and the people that lived even to the east came for the food of the

feast and the potlatch token. Unga was older than I by the age of four suns in the way we reckoned the years.

I was only a stripling; but then I was a chief, and the son of a chief, and it did not matter.

'But a ship shoved her sails above the floor of the ocean, and grew larger with the breath of the wind. From

her scuppers she ran clear water, and the men were in haste and worked hard at the pumps. On the bow stood

a mighty man, watching the depth of the water and giving commands with a voice of thunder. His eyes were

of the pale blue of the deep waters, and his head was maned like that of a sea lion. And his hair was yellow,

like the straw of a southern harvest or the manila rope yarns which sailormen plait.

'Of late years we had seen ships from afar, but this was the first to come to the beach of Akatan. The feast

was broken, and the women and children fled to the houses, while we men strung our bows and waited with

spears in hand. But when the ship's forefoot smelled the beach the strange men took no notice of us, being

With the falling of the tide they careened the schooner and patched a great hole in her bottom. So the women

'When the tide rose, the sea wanderers kedged the schooner to deep water and then came among us. They

bore presents and were friendly; so I made room for them, and out of the largeness of my heart gave them

tokens such as I gave all the guests, for it was my wedding day, and I was head man in Akatan. And he with

the mane of the sea lion was there, so tall and strong that one looked to see the earth shake with the fall of his

feet. He looked much and straight at Unga, with his arms folded, so, and stayed till the sun went away and the

Then he went down to his ship. After that I took Unga by the hand and led her to my own house. And there

was singing and great laughter, and the women said sly things, after the manner of women at such times. But

'The last noise had not died away when the chief of the sea wanderers came in by the door. And he had with

him black bottles, from which we drank and made merry. You see, I was only a stripling, and had lived all

my days on the edge of the world. So my blood became as fire, and my heart as light as the froth that flies

from the surf to the cliff. Unga sat silent among the skins in the corner, her eyes wide, for she seemed to fear.

And he with the mane of the sea lion looked upon her straight and long. Then his men came in with bundles

There were guns, both large and small, and powder and shot and shell, and bright axes and knives of steel,

When he showed me by sign that it was all mine, I thought him a great man to be so free; but he showed me

Do you understand?that Unga was to go away with him in his ship. The blood of my fathers flamed hot on

the sudden, and I made to drive him through with my spear. But the spirit of the bottles had stolen the life

from my arm, and he took me by the neck, so, and knocked my head against the wall of the house. And I was

Unga screamed, and she laid hold of the things of the house with her hands, till they fell all about us as he

dragged her to the door. Then he took her in his great arms, and when she tore at his yellow hair laughed with

'I crawled to the beach and called upon my people, but they were afraid. Only Yash Noosh was a man, and

they struck him on the head with an oar, till he lay with his face in the sand and did not move. And they

raised the sails to the sound of their songs, and the ship went away on the wind.

'The people said it was good, for there would be no more war of the bloods in Akatan; but I said never a

word, waiting till the time of the full moon, when I put fish and oil in my kayak and went away to the east. I

saw many islands and many people, and I, who had lived on the edge, saw that the world was very large. I

talked by signs; but they had not seen a schooner nor a man with the mane of a sea lion, and they pointed

always to the east. And I slept in queer places, and ate odd things, and met strange faces. Many laughed, for

they thought me light of head; but sometimes old men turned my face to the light and blessed me, and the

eyes of the young women grew soft as they asked me of the strange ship, and Unga, and the men of the sea.

'And in this manner, through rough seas and great storms, I came to Unalaska. There were two schooners

there, but neither was the one I sought. So I passed on to the east, with the world growing ever larger, and in

the island of Unamok there was no word of the ship, nor in Kadiak, nor in Atognak. And so I came one day to

a rocky land, where men dug great holes in the mountain. And there was a schooner, but not my schooner,

and men loaded upon it the rocks which they dug. This I thought childish, for all the world was made of

rocks; but they gave me food and set me to work. When the schooner was deep in the water, the captain gave

me money and told me to go; but I asked which way he went, and he pointed south. I made signs that I would

go with him, and he laughed at first, but then, being short of men, took me to help work the ship. So I came to

talk after their manner, and to heave on ropes, and to reef the stiff sails in sudden squalls, and to take my turn

at the wheel. But it was not strange, for the blood of my fathers was the blood of the men of the sea.

'I had thought it an easy task to find him I sought, once I got among his own people; and when we raised the

land one day, and passed between a gateway of the sea to a port, I looked for perhaps as many schooners as

there were fingers to my hands. But the ships lay against the wharves for miles, packed like so many little

fish; and when I went among them to ask for a man with the mane of a sea lion, they laughed, and answered

me in the tongues of many peoples. And I found that they hailed from the uttermost parts of the earth.

'And I went into the city to look upon the face of every man. But they were like the cod when they run thick

on the banks, and I could not count them. And the noise smote upon me till I could not hear, and my head

was dizzy with much movement. So I went on and on, through the lands which sang in the warm sunshine;

where the harvests lay rich on the plains; and where great cities were fat with men that lived like women,

with false words in their mouths and their hearts black with the lust of gold. And all the while my people of

Akatan hunted and fished, and were happy in the thought that the world was small.

'But the look in the eyes of Unga coming home from the fishing was with me always, and I knew I would

find her when the time was met. She walked down quiet lanes in the dusk of the evening, or led me chases

across the thick fields wet with the morning dew, and there was a promise in her eyes such as only the

'So I wandered through a thousand cities. Some were gentle and gave me food, and others laughed, and still

others cursed; but I kept my tongue between my teeth, and went strange ways and saw strange sights.

Sometimes I, who was a chief and the son of a chief, toiled for menmen rough of speech and hard as iron,

who wrung gold from the sweat and sorrow of their fellow men. Yet no word did I get of my quest till I came

But this was at another port, in another country which lay to the north. And there I heard dim tales of the

yellowhaired sea wanderer, and I learned that he was a hunter of seals, and that even then he was abroad on

'So I shipped on a seal schooner with the lazy Siwashes, and followed his trackless trail to the north where the

hunt was then warm. And we were away weary months, and spoke many of the fleet, and heard much of the

wild doings of him I sought; but never once did we raise him above the sea. We went north, even to the

Pribilofs, and killed the seals in herds on the beach, and brought their warm bodies aboard till our scuppers

ran grease and blood and no man could stand upon the deck. Then were we chased by a ship of slow steam,

which fired upon us with great guns. But we put sail till the sea was over our decks and washed them clean,

'It is said, at this time, while we fled with fear at our hearts, that the yellowhaired sea wanderer put in to the

Pribilofs, right to the factory, and while the part of his men held the servants of the company, the rest loaded

ten thousand green skins from the salt houses. I say it is said, but I believe; for in the voyages I made on the

coast with never a meeting the northern seas rang with his wildness and daring, till the three nations which

And I heard of Unga, for the captains sang loud in her praise, and she was always with him. She had learned

the ways of his people, they said, and was happy. But I knew better knew that her heart harked back to her

'So, after a long time, I went back to the port which is by a gateway of the sea, and there I learned that he had

gone across the girth of the great ocean to hunt for the seal to the east of the warm land which runs south

And I, who was become a sailorman, shipped with men of his own race, and went after him in the hunt of the

seal. And there were few ships off that new land; but we hung on the flank of the seal pack and harried it

north through all the spring of the year. And when the cows were heavy with pup and crossed the Russian

line, our men grumbled and were afraid. For there was much fog, and every day men were lost in the boats.

They would not work, so the captain turned the ship back toward the way it came. But I knew the yellow

haired sea wanderer was unafraid, and would hang by the pack, even to the Russian Isles, where few men go.

So I took a boat, in the black of night, when the lookout dozed on the fo'c'slehead, and went alone to the

warm, long land. And I journeyed south to meet the men by Yeddo Bay, who are wild and unafraid. And the

Yoshiwara girls were small, and bright like steel, and good to look upon; but I could not stop, for I knew that

'The men by Yeddo Bay had met from the ends of the earth, and had neither gods nor homes, sailing under

the flag of the Japanese. And with them I went to the rich beaches of Copper Island, where our salt piles

And in that silent sea we saw no man till we were ready to come away. Then one day the fog lifted on the

edge of a heavy wind, and there jammed down upon us a schooner, with close in her wake the cloudy funnels

of a Russian manofwar. We fled away on the beam of the wind, with the schooner jamming still closer and

plunging ahead three feet to our two. And upon her poop was the man with the mane of the sea lion, pressing

the rails under with the canvas and laughing in his strength of life. And Unga was thereI knew her on the

As I say, with three feet to our two, till we saw the rudder lift green at every jumpand I swinging on to the

wheel and cursing, with my back to the Russian shot. For we knew he had it in mind to run before us, that he

might get away while we were caught. And they knocked our masts out of us till we dragged into the wind

'What could we? The fresh hides spoke for themselves. So they took us to a Russian port, and after that to a

lone country, where they set us to work in the mines to dig salt. And some died, andand some did not die.'

Naass swept the blanket from his shoulders, disclosing the gnarled and twisted flesh, marked with the

unmistakable striations of the knout. Prince hastily covered him, for it was not nice to look upon.

'We were there a weary time and sometimes men got away to the south, but they always came back. So, when

we who hailed from Yeddo Bay rose in the night and took the guns from the guards, we went to the north.

And the land was very large, with plains, soggy with water, and great forests. And the cold came, with much

snow on the ground, and no man knew the way. Weary months we journeyed through the endless forestI

do not remember, now, for there was little food and often we lay down to die. But at last we came to the cold

sea, and but three were left to look upon it. One had shipped from Yeddo as captain, and he knew in his head

the lay of the great lands, and of the place where men may cross from one to the other on the ice. And he led

usI do not know, it was so longtill there were but two. When we came to that place we found five of the

strange people which live in that country, and they had dogs and skins, and we were very poor. We fought in

the snow till they died, and the captain died, and the dogs and skins were mine. Then I crossed on the ice,

which was broken, and once I drifted till a gale from the west put me upon the shore. And after that, Golovin

'But the sea was no longer fruitful, and those who went upon it after the seal went to little profit and great

risk. The fleets scattered, and the captains and the men had no word of those I sought. So I turned away from

the ocean which never rests, and went among the lands, where the trees, the houses, and the mountains sit

always in one place and do not move. I journeyed far, and came to learn many things, even to the way of

reading and writing from books. It was well I should do this, for it came upon me that Unga must know these

things, and that someday, when the time was metweyou understand, when the time was met.

'So I drifted, like those little fish which raise a sail to the wind but cannot steer. But my eyes and my ears

were open always, and I went among men who traveled much, for I knew they had but to see those I sought

to remember. At last there came a man, fresh from the mountains, with pieces of rock in which the free gold

stood to the size of peas, and he had heard, he had met, he knew them. They were rich, he said, and lived in

'It was in a wild country, and very far away; but in time I came to the camp, hidden between the mountains,

where men worked night and day, out of the sight of the sun. Yet the time was not come. I listened to the talk

of the people. He had gone awaythey had gone awayto England, it was said, in the matter of bringing

men with much money together to form companies. I saw the house they had lived in; more like a palace,

such as one sees in the old countries. In the nighttime I crept in through a window that I might see in what

manner he treated her. I went from room to room, and in such way thought kings and queens must live, it was

all so very good. And they all said he treated her like a queen, and many marveled as to what breed of woman

she was for there was other blood in her veins, and she was different from the women of Akatan, and no one

knew her for what she was. Aye, she was a queen; but I was a chief, and the son of a chief, and I had paid for

'But why so many words? I was a sailorman, and knew the way of the ships on the seas. I followed to

England, and then to other countries. Sometimes I heard of them by word of mouth, sometimes I read of them

in the papers; yet never once could I come by them, for they had much money, and traveled fast, while I was

a poor man. Then came trouble upon them, and their wealth slipped away one day like a curl of smoke. The

papers were full of it at the time; but after that nothing was said, and I knew they had gone back where more

'They had dropped out of the world, being now poor, and so I wandered from camp to camp, even north to the

Kootenay country, where I picked up the cold scent. They had come and gone, some said this way, and some

that, and still others that they had gone to the country of the Yukon. And I went this way, and I went that,

ever journeying from place to place, till it seemed I must grow weary of the world which was so large. But in

the Kootenay I traveled a bad trail, and a long trail, with a breed of the Northwest, who saw fit to die when

the famine pinched. He had been to the Yukon by an unknown way over the mountains, and when he knew

his time was near gave me the map and the secret of a place where he swore by his gods there was much

'After that all the world began to flock into the north. I was a poor man; I sold myself to be a driver of dogs.

She did not know me, for I was only a stripling, and her life had been large, so she had no time to remember

'So? You bought me from my term of service. I went back to bring things about in my own way, for I had

As I say, I had it in mind to do my own way, for I read back in my life, through all I had seen and suffered,

and remembered the cold and hunger of the endless forest by the Russian seas. As you know, I led him into

the easthim and Ungainto the east where many have gone and few returned. I led them to the spot where

'The way was long and the trail unpacked. Our dogs were many and ate much; nor could our sleds carry till

the break of spring. We must come back before the river ran free. So here and there we cached grub, that our

sleds might be lightened and there be no chance of famine on the back trip. At the McQuestion there were

three men, and near them we built a cache, as also did we at the Mayo, where was a hunting camp of a dozen

After that, as we went on into the east, we saw no men; only the sleeping river, the moveless forest, and the

White Silence of the North. As I say, the way was long and the trail unpacked. Sometimes, in a day's toil, we

made no more than eight miles, or ten, and at night we slept like dead men. And never once did they dream

'We now made smaller caches, and in the nighttime it was a small matter to go back on the trail we had

broken and change them in such way that one might deem the wolverines the thieves. Again there be places

where there is a fall to the river, and the water is unruly, and the ice makes above and is eaten away beneath.

In such a spot the sled I drove broke through, and the dogs; and to him and Unga it was ill luck, but no more.

But he laughed, for he was strong of life, and gave the dogs that were left little grub till we cut them from the

harnesses one by one and fed them to their mates. We would go home light, he said, traveling and eating from

cache to cache, with neither dogs nor sleds; which was true, for our grub was very short, and the last dog died

in the traces the night we came to the gold and the bones and the curses of men.

'To reach that placeand the map spoke truein the heart of the great mountains, we cut ice steps against

the wall of a divide. One looked for a valley beyond, but there was no valley; the snow spread away, level as

the great harvest plains, and here and there about us mighty mountains shoved their white heads among the

stars. And midway on that strange plain which should have been a valley the earth and the snow fell away,

Had we not been sailormen our heads would have swung round with the sight, but we stood on the dizzy edge

that we might see a way to get down. And on one side, and one side only, the wall had fallen away till it was

like the slope of the decks in a topsail breeze. I do not know why this thing should be so, but it was so. "It is

'And on the bottom there was a cabin, built by some man, of logs which he had cast down from above. It was

a very old cabin, for men had died there alone at different times, and on pieces of birch bark which were there

One had died of scurvy; another's partner had robbed him of his last grub and powder and stolen away; a third

had been mauled by a baldface grizzly; a fourth had hunted for game and starvedand so it went, and they

had been loath to leave the gold, and had died by the side of it in one way or another. And the worthless gold

'But his soul was steady, and his head clear, this man I had led thus far. "We have nothing to eat," he said,

"and we will only look upon this gold, and see whence it comes and how much there be. Then we will go

away quick, before it gets into our eyes and steals away our judgment. And in this way we may return in the

end, with more grub, and possess it all." So we looked upon the great vein, which cut the wall of the pit as a

true vein should, and we measured it, and traced it from above and below, and drove the stakes of the claims

and blazed the trees in token of our rights. Then, our knees shaking with lack of food, and a sickness in our

bellies, and our hearts chugging close to our mouths, we climbed the mighty wall for the last time and turned

'The last stretch we dragged Unga between us, and we fell often, but in the end we made the cache. And lo,

there was no grub. It was well done, for he thought it the wolverines, and damned them and his gods in one

breath. But Unga was brave, and smiled, and put her hand in his, till I turned away that I might hold myself.

"We will rest by the fire," she said, "till morning, and we will gather strength from our moccasins." So we cut

the tops of our moccasins in strips, and boiled them half of the night, that we might chew them and swallow

them. And in the morning we talked of our chance. The next cache was five days' journey; we could not make

'"Yes," said I, "we will go forth and hunt." 'And he ruled that Unga stay by the fire and save her strength. And

we went forth, he in quest of the moose and I to the cache I had changed. But I ate little, so they might not see

in me much strength. And in the night he fell many times as he drew into camp. And I, too, made to suffer

great weakness, stumbling over my snowshoes as though each step might be my last. And we gathered

'He was a great man. His soul lifted his body to the last; nor did he cry aloud, save for the sake of Unga. On

the second day I followed him, that I might not miss the end. And he lay down to rest often. That night he

was near gone; but in the morning he swore weakly and went forth again. He was like a drunken man, and I

looked many times for him to give up, but his was the strength of the strong, and his soul the soul of a giant,

for he lifted his body through all the weary day. And he shot two ptarmigan, but would not eat them. He

needed no fire; they meant life; but his thought was for Unga, and he turned toward camp.

He no longer walked, but crawled on hand and knee through the snow. I came to him, and read death in his

eyes. Even then it was not too late to eat of the ptarmigan. He cast away his rifle and carried the birds in his

mouth like a dog. I walked by his side, upright. And he looked at me during the moments he rested, and

wondered that I was so strong. I could see it, though he no longer spoke; and when his lips moved, they

As I say, he was a great man, and my heart spoke for softness; but I read back in my life, and remembered the

cold and hunger of the endless forest by the Russian seas. Besides, Unga was mine, and I had paid for her an

'And in this manner we came through the white forest, with the silence heavy upon us like a damp sea mist.

And the ghosts of the past were in the air and all about us; and I saw the yellow beach of Akatan, and the

kayaks racing home from the fishing, and the houses on the rim of the forest. And the men who had made

themselves chiefs were there, the lawgivers whose blood I bore and whose blood I had wedded in Unga. Aye,

and Yash Noosh walked with me, the wet sand in his hair, and his war spear, broken as he fell upon it, still

in his hand. And I knew the time was meet, and saw in the eyes of Unga the promise.

'As I say, we came thus through the forest, till the smell of the camp smoke was in our nostrils. And I bent

He turned on his side and rested, the wonder mounting in his eyes, and the hand which was under slipping

slow toward the knife at his hip. But I took it from him, smiling close in his face. Even then he did not

understand. So I made to drink from black bottles, and to build high upon the snow a pileof goods, and to

live again the things which had happened on the night of my marriage. I spoke no word, but he understood.

Yet was he unafraid. There was a sneer to his lips, and cold anger, and he gathered new strength with the

knowledge. It was not far, but the snow was deep, and he dragged himself very slow.

Once he lay so long I turned him over and gazed into his eyes. And sometimes he looked forth, and

sometimes death. And when I loosed him he struggled on again. In this way we came to the fire. Unga was at

his side on the instant. His lips moved without sound; then he pointed at me, that Unga might understand.

And after that he lay in the snow, very still, for a long while. Even now is he there in the snow.

'I said no word till I had cooked the ptarmigan. Then I spoke to her, in her own tongue, which she had not

heard in many years. She straightened herself, so, and her eyes were wonderwide, and she asked who I was,

'"Yes," I answered; "I am Naass, head man of Akatan, the last of the blood, as you are the last of the blood."

'And she laughed. By all the things I have seen and the deeds I have done may I never hear such a laugh

again. It put the chill to my soul, sitting there in the White Silence, alone with death and this woman who

'"Come!" I said, for I thought she wandered. "Eat of the food and let us be gone. It is a far fetch from here to

Akatan." 'But she shoved her face in his yellow mane, and laughed till it seemed the heavens must fall about

our ears. I had thought she would be overjoyed at the sight of me, and eager to go back to the memory of old

Let us hurry!' '"Where?" she asked, sitting up, and ceasing from her strange mirth.

'"To Akatan," I answered, intent on the light to grow on her face at the thought. But it became like his, with a

'"Yes,' she said; "we will go, hand in hand, to Akatan, you and I. And we will live in the dirty huts, and eat of

the fish and oil, and bring forth a spawna spawn to be proud of all the days of our life. We will forget the

world and be happy, very happy. It is good, most good. Come! Let us hurry. Let us go back to Akatan." 'And

she ran her hand through his yellow hair, and smiled in a way which was not good. And there was no promise

'I sat silent, and marveled at the strangeness of woman. I went back to the night when he dragged her from

me and she screamed and tore at his hairat his hair which now she played with and would not leave. Then I

remembered the price and the long years of waiting; and I gripped her close, and dragged her away as he had

done. And she held back, even as on that night, and fought like a shecat for its whelp. And when the fire

was between us and the man. I loosed her, and she sat and listened. And I told her of all that lay between, of

all that had happened to me on strange seas, of all that I had done in strange lands; of my weary quest, and the

hungry years, and the promise which had been mine from the first. Aye, I told all, even to what had passed

that day between the man and me, and in the days yet young. And as I spoke I saw the promise grow in her

eyes, full and large like the break of dawn. And I read pity there, the tenderness of woman, the love, the heart

and the soul of Unga. And I was a stripling again, for the look was the look of Unga as she ran up the beach,

laughing, to the home of her mother. The stern unrest was gone, and the hunger, and the weary waiting.

The time was met. I felt the call of her breast, and it seemed there I must pillow my head and forget. She

opened her arms to me, and I came against her. Then, sudden, the hate flamed in her eye, her hand was at my

'"Dog!" she sneered, as she flung me into the snow. "Swine!" And then she laughed till the silence cracked,

'As I say, once she passed the knife, and twice; but she was weak with hunger, and it was not meant that I

should die. Yet was I minded to stay in that place, and to close my eyes in the last long sleep with those

whose lives had crossed with mine and led my feet on unknown trails. But there lay a debt upon me which

'And the way was long, the cold bitter, and there was little grub. The Pellys had found no moose, and had

robbed my cache. And so had the three white men, but they lay thin and dead in their cabins as I passed. After

that I do not remember, till I came here, and found food and firemuch fire.' As he finished, he crouched

closely, even jealously, over the stove. For a long while the slushlamp shadows played tragedies upon the

'Unga? She would not eat of the ptarmigan. She lay with her arms about his neck, her face deep in his yellow

hair. I drew the fire close, that she might not feel the frost, but she crept to the other side. And I built a fire

there; yet it was little good, for she would not eat. And in this manner they still lie up there in the snow.'

'I do not know; but Akatan is small, and I have little wish to go back and live on the edge of the world. Yet is

there small use in life. I can go to Constantine, and he will put irons upon me, and one day they will tie a

piece of rope, so, and I will sleep good. Yetno; I do not know.' 'But, Kid,' protested Prince, 'this is murder!'

'Hush!' commanded Malemute Kid. 'There be things greater than our wisdom, beyond our justice. The right

and the wrong of this we cannot say, and it is not for us to judge.' Naass drew yet closer to the fire. There was