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  Butitalluscomeoutthenighestside—channel,an’notbubblin’upan’up。’

  ’Butwithniverawinkatthehelm?’

  ’No;noryou。It’saginreason。I’llleaveittoanyman!’

  Bettlesappealedtothecircleaboutthestove,butthefightwasonbetweenhimselfandLonMcFane。

  ’Reasonornoreason,it’sthetruthI’mtellin’ye。Lastfall,ayeargone,’twasSitkaCharleyandmeselfsawthesight,droppin’downtheriffleye’llrememberbelowFortReliance。An’regularfallweatheritwas—theglinto’thesunonthegoldenlarchan’thequakin’aspens;an’theglisteroflightoniveryripple;an’

  beyand,thewinteran’thebluehazeoftheNorthcomin’downhandinhand。It’swellyeknowthesame,withafringetotheriveran’

  theiceformin’thickintheeddies—an’asnapan’sparkletotheair,an’yea—feelin’itthroughallyerblood,a—takin’newleaseoflifewithiverysuckofit。’Tisthen,meboy,theworldgrowssmallan’thewandtherlustlaysyebytheheels。

  ’Butit’smeselfaswandthers。AsIwassayin’,wea—paddlin’,withniverasignofice,barrin’thatbytheeddies,whentheInjunliftshispaddlean’singsout,\"LonMcFane!Lookyebelow!\"SohaveI

  heard,butniverthoughttosee!Asyeknow,SitkaCharley,likemeself,niverdrewfirstbreathintheland;sothesightwasnew。

  Thenwedrifted,withaheadoveraytherside,peerin’downthroughthesparklywater。FortheworldlikethedaysIspintwiththepearlers,watchin’thecoralbanksa—growin’thesameassomanygardensunderthesea。Thereitwas,theanchor—ice,clingin’an’

  clusterin’toiveryrock,afterthemannerofthewhitecoral。

  ’Butthebestofthesightwastocome。Justafterclearin’thetailoftheriffle,thewaterturnsquickthecolorofmilk,an’thetopofitinweecircles,aswhenthegraylin’riseinthespring,orthere’sasplatterofwetfromthesky。’Twastheanchor—icecomin’up。Totheright,tothelift,asfarasiveramancudsee,thewaterwascoveredwiththesame。An’likesomuchporridgeitwas,slickin’

  alongthebarkofthecanoe,stickin’likegluetothepaddles。It’smany’sthetimeIshottheself—samerifflebefore,andit’smany’sthetimeafter,butniverawinkofthesamehaveIseen。’Twasthesightofalifetime。’

  ’Dotell!’drylycommentedBettles。’D’yethinkI’db’lievesuchayarn?I’druthersaytheglisteroflight’dgonetoyoureyes,andthesnapoftheairtoyourtongue。’

  ’’Twasmeowneyesthatbeheldit,an’ifSitkaCharleywashere,he’dbetheladtobackme。’

  ’Butfactsisfacts,an’theyain’tnogettin’round’em。Itain’tinthenatureofthingsforthewaterfurtherestawayfromtheairtofreezefirst。’

  ’Butmeowneyes—’

  ’Don’tgithetupoverit,’admonishedBettles,asthequickCelticangerbegantomount。

  ’Thenyernotafterbelavin’me?’

  ’Senceyou’resoblamedforehandedaboutit,no;I’db’lievenaturefirst,andfacts。’

  ’Isitthelieye’dbegivin’me?’threatenedLon。’Ye’dbetterbeaskin’thatSiwashwifeofyours。I’lllaveittoher,forthetruthI

  spake。’

  Bettlesflaredupinsuddenwrath。TheIrishmanhadunwittinglywoundedhim;forhiswifewasthehalf—breeddaughterofaRussianfur—trader,marriedtohimintheGreekMissionofNulato,athousandmilesorsodowntheYukon,thusbeingofmuchhighercastethanthecommonSiwash,ornative,wife。ItwasamereNorthlandnuance,whichnonebuttheNorthlandadventurermayunderstand。

  ’Ireckonyoukintakeitthatway,’washisdeliberateaffirmation。

  ThenextinstantLonMcFanehadstretchedhimonthefloor,thecirclewasbrokenup,andhalfadozenmenhadsteppedbetween。

  Bettlescametohisfeet,wipingthebloodfromhismouth。’Ithain’tnew,thistakin’andpayin’ofblows,anddon’tyouneverthinkbutthatthiswillbesquared。’

  ’An’niverinmelifedidItaketheliefrommortalman,’wastheretortcourteous。’An’it’sanavildayI’llnotbetohand,waitin’

  an’willin’tohelpyeliftyerdebts,barrin’nomannerofway。’

  ’Stillgotthat38—55?’

  Lonnodded。

  ’Butyou’dbettergitamorelikelycaliber。Mine’llripholesthroughyouthesizeofwalnuts。’

  ’Niverfear;it’smeownslugssmelltheirwaywithsoftnoses,an’they’llspreadlikeflapjacksagainstthecomingoutbeyand。An’

  when’llIhavethepleasureofwaitin’onye?Thewaterhole’sastrikin’locality。’

  ’’Tain’tbad。Jestbethereinanhour,andyouwon’tsetlongonmycoming。’

  BothmenmittenedandleftthePost,theirearsclosedtotheremonstrancesoftheircomrades。Itwassuchalittlething;yetwithsuchmen,littlethings,nourishedbyquicktempersandstubbornnatures,soonblossomedintobigthings。Besides,theartofburningtobedrockstilllayinthewombofthefuture,andthemenofForty—Mile,shutinbythelongArcticwinter,grewhigh—stomachedwithovereatingandenforcedidleness,andbecameasirritableasdothebeesinthefalloftheyearwhenthehivesareoverstockedwithhoney。

  Therewasnolawintheland。Themountedpolicewasalsoathingofthefuture。Eachmanmeasuredanoffense,andmetedoutthepunishmentinasmuchasitaffectedhimself。Rarelyhadcombinedactionbeennecessary,andneverinallthedrearyhistoryofthecamphadtheeightharticleoftheDecaloguebeenviolated。

  BigJimBeldencalledanimpromptumeeting。ScruffMackenziewasplacedastemporarychairman,andamessengerdispatchedtosolicitFatherRoubeau’sgoodoffices。Theirpositionwasparadoxical,andtheyknewit。Bytherightofmightcouldtheyinterferetopreventtheduel;yetsuchaction,whileindirectlinewiththeirwishes,wentcountertotheiropinions。Whiletheirrough—hewn,obsoleteethicsrecognizedtheindividualprerogativeofwipingoutblowwithblow,theycouldnotbeartothinkoftwogoodcomrades,suchasBettlesandMcFane,meetingindeadlybattle。Deemingthemanwhowouldnotfightonprovocationadastard,whenbroughttothetestitseemedwrongthatheshouldfight。

  Butascurryofmoccasinsandloudcries,roundedoffwithapistol—shot,interruptedthediscussion。Thenthestorm—doorsopenedandMalemuteKidentered,asmokingColt’sinhishand,andamerrylightinhiseye。

  ’Igothim。’Hereplacedtheemptyshell,andadded,’Yourdog,Scruff。’

  ’YellowFang?’Mackenzieasked。

  ’No;thelop—earedone。’

  ’Thedevil!Nothingthematterwithhim。’

  ’Comeoutandtakealook。’

  ’That’sallrightafterall。Buesshe’sgot’em,too。YellowFangcamebackthismorningandtookachunkoutofhim,andcameneartomakingawidowerofme。MadearushforZarinska,butshewhiskedherskirtsinhisfaceandescapedwiththelossofthesameandagoodrollinthesnow。Thenhetooktothewoodsagain。Hopehedon’tcomeback。Lostanyyourself?’

  ’One—thebestoneofthepack—Shookum。Startedamuckthismorning,butdidn’tgetveryfar。RanfoulofSitkaCharley’steam,andtheyscatteredhimalloverthestreet。Andnowtwoofthemareloose,andragingmad;soyouseehegothisworkin。Thedogcensuswillbesmallinthespringifwedon’tdosomething。’

  ’Andthemancensus,too。’

  ’How’sthat?Who’sintroublenow?’

  ’Oh,BettlesandLonMcFanehadanargument,andthey’llbedownbythewaterholeinafewminutestosettleit。’

  Theincidentwasrepeatedforhisbenefit,andMalemuteKid,accustomedtoanobediencewhichhisfellowmenneverfailedtorender,tookchargeoftheaffair。Hisquicklyformulatedplanwasexplained,andtheypromisedtofollowhisleadimplicitly。

  ’Soyousee,’heconcluded,’wedonotactuallytakeawaytheirprivilegeoffighting;andyetIdon’tbelievethey’llfightwhentheyseethebeautyofthescheme。Life’sagameandmenthegamblers。

  They’llstaketheirwholepileontheonechanceinathousand。Takeawaythatonechance,and—theywon’tplay。’

  HeturnedtothemaninchargeofthePost。’Storekeeper,weightoutthreefathomsofyourbesthalf—inchmanila。

  ’We’llestablishaprecedentwhichwilllastthemenofForty—Miletotheendoftime,’heprophesied。Thenhecoiledtheropeabouthisarmandledhisfollowersoutofdoors,justintimetomeettheprincipals。

  ’Whatdangedright’dhetofetchmywifein?’thunderedBettlestothesoothingoverturesofafriend。’’Twa’n’tcalledfor,’heconcludeddecisively。’’Twa’n’tcalledfor,’hereiteratedagainandagain,pacingupanddownandwaitingforLonMcFane。

  AndLonMcFane—hisfacewashotandtonguerapidasheflauntedinsurrectioninthefaceoftheChurch。’Then,father,’hecried,’it’swithanaisyheartI’llrollinmeflamyblankets,thebroadofmebackonabedofcoals。NivershallitbesaidthatLonMcFanetookalie’twixttheteethwithoutiverliftin’ahand!An’I’llnotaskablessin’。Theyearshavebeenwild,butit’stheheartwasintherightplace。’

  ’Butit’snottheheart,Lon,’interposedFatherRoubeau;’It’spridethatbidsyouforthtoslayyourfellowman。’

  ’YerFrinch,’Lonreplied。Andthen,turningtoleavehim,’An’willyesayamassiftheluckisagainstme?’

  Butthepriestsmiled,thrusthismoccasinedfeettothefore,andwentoutuponthewhitebreastofthesilentriver。Apackedtrail,thewidthofasixteen—inchsled,ledouttothewaterhole。Oneithersidelaythedeep,softsnow。Thementrodinsinglefile,withoutconversation;andtheblack—stoledpriestintheirmidstgavetothefunctionthesolemnaspectofafuneral。Itwasawarmwinter’sdayforForty—Mile—adayinwhichthesky,filledwithheaviness,drewclosertotheearth,andthemercurysoughttheunwontedleveloftwentybelow。Buttherewasnocheerinthewarmth。Therewaslittleairintheupperstrata,andthecloudshungmotionless,givingsullenpromiseofanearlysnowfall。Andtheearth,unresponsive,madenopreparation,contentinitshibernation。

  Whenthewaterholewasreached,Bettles,havingevidentlyreviewedthequarrelduringthesilentwalk,burstoutinafinal’’Twa’n’tcalledfor,’whileLonMcFanekeptgrimsilence。Indignationsochokedhimthathecouldnotspeak。

  Yetdeepdown,whenevertheirownwrongswerenotuppermost,bothmenwonderedattheircomrades。Theyhadexpectedopposition,andthistacitacquiescencehurtthem。Itseemedmorewasduethemfromthementheyhadbeensoclosewith,andtheyfeltavaguesenseofwrong,rebellingatthethoughtofsomanyoftheirbrotherscomingout,asonagalaoccasion,withoutonewordofprotest,toseethemshooteachotherdown。Itappearedtheirworthhaddiminishedintheeyesofthecommunity。Theproceedingspuzzledthem。

  ’Backtoback,David。An’willitbefiftypacestotheman,ordoublethequantity?’

  ’Fifty,’wasthesanguinaryreply,gruntedout,yetsharplycut。

  Butthenewmanila,notprominentlydisplayed,butcasuallycoiledaboutMalemuteKid’sarm,caughtthequickeyeoftheIrishman,andthrilledhimwithasuspiciousfear。

  ’An’whatareyedoin’withtherope?’

  ’Hurryup!’MalemuteKidglancedathiswatch。’I’veabatchofbreadinthecabin,andIdon’twantittofall。Besides,myfeetaregettingcold。’

  Therestofthemenmanifestedtheirimpatienceinvarioussuggestiveways。

  ’Buttherope,Kid’It’sbran’new,an’sureyerbread’snotthatheavyitneedsraisin’withthelikeofthat?’

  Bettlesbythistimehadfacedaround。FatherRoubeau,thehumorofthesituationjustdawningonhim,hidasmilebehindhismittenedhand。

  ’No,Lon;thisropewasmadeforaman。’MalemuteKidcouldbeveryimpressiveonoccasion。

  ’Whatman?’Bettleswasbecomingawareofapersonalinterest。

  ’Theotherman。’

  ’An’whichistheoneye’dmanebythat?’

  ’Listen,Lon—andyou,too,Bettles!We’vebeentalkingthislittletroubleofyoursover,andwe’vecometooneconclusion。Weknowwehavenorighttostopyourfighting—’

  ’Trueforye,melad!’

  ’Andwe’renotgoingto。Butthismuchwecando,andshalldo—makethistheonlyduelinthehistoryofForty—Mile,setanexampleforeveryche—cha—quathatcomesupordowntheYukon。Themanwhoescapeskillingshallbehangedtothenearesttree。Now,goahead!’

  Lonsmileddubiously,thenhisfacelightedup。’Paceheroff,David—fiftypaces,wheel,an’niveraceasefirin’tillalad’sdownforgood。’Tistheirhearts’llniverletthemdothedeed,an’

  it’swellyeshouldknowitforatrueYankeebluff。’

  Hestartedoffwithapleasedgrinonhisface,butMalemuteKidhaltedhim。

  ’Lon!It’salongwhilesinceyoufirstknewme?’

  ’Many’stheday。’

  ’Andyou,Bettles?’

  ’FiveyearnextJunehighwater。’

  ’Andhaveyouonce,inallthattime,knownmetobreakmyword’

  Orheardofmebreakingit?’

  Bothmenshooktheirheads,strivingtofathomwhatlaybeyond。

  ’Well,then,whatdoyouthinkofapromisemadebyme?’

  ’Asgoodasyourbond,’fromBettles。

  ’Thethingtosafelyslingyerhopesofheavenby,’promptlyendorsedLonMcFane。

  ’Listen!I,MalemuteKid,giveyoumyword—andyouknowwhatthatmeans—thatthemanwhoisnotshotstretchesropewithintenminutesaftertheshooting。’HesteppedbackasPilatemighthavedoneafterwashinghishands。

  ApauseandasilencecameoverthemenofForty—Mile。Theskydrewstillcloser,sendingdownacrystalflightoffrost—littlegeometricdesigns,perfect,evanescentasabreath,yetdestinedtoexisttillthereturningsunhadcoveredhalfitsnorthernjourney。

  Bothmenhadledforlornhopesintheirtime—ledwithacurseorajestontheirtongues,andintheirsoulsanunswervingfaithintheGodofChance。Butthatmercifuldeityhadbeenshutoutfromthepresentdeal。TheystudiedthefaceofMalemuteKid,buttheystudiedasonemighttheSphinx。Asthequietminutespassed,afeelingthatspeechwasincumbentonthembegantogrow。Atlastthehowlofawolf—dogcrackedthesilencefromthedirectionofForty—Mile。Theweirdsoundswelledwithallthepathosofabreakingheart,thendiedawayinalong—drawnsob。

  ’WellIbedanged!’Bettlesturnedupthecollarofhismackinawjacketandstaredabouthimhelplessly。

  ’It’sagloryusgameyerrunnin’,Kid,’criedLonMcFane。’Allthepercentageofthehousean’niverabittothemanthat’sbuckin’。TheDevilhimself’dnivertacklesuchacinch—anddamnedifIdo。’

  Therewerechuckles,throttledingurglingthroats,andwinksbrushedawaywiththefrostwhichrimedtheeyelashes,asthemenclimbedtheice—notchedbankandstartedacrossthestreettothePost。Butthelonghowlhaddrawnnearer,investedwithanewnoteofmenace。Awomanscreamedroundthecorner。Therewasacryof,’Herehecomes!’ThenanIndianboy,attheheadofhalfadozenfrighteneddogs,racingwithdeath,dashedintothecrowd。AndbehindcameYellowFang,abristleofhairandaflashofgray。

  EverybodybuttheYankeefled。TheIndianboyhadtrippedandfallen。Bettlesstoppedlongenoughtogriphimbytheslackofhisfurs,thenheadedforapileofcordwoodalreadyoccupiedbyanumberofhiscomrades。YellowFang,doublingafteroneofthedogs,cameleapingback。Thefleeinganimal,freeoftherabies,butcrazedwithfright,whippedBettlesoffhisfeetandflashedonupthestreet。MalemuteKidtookaflyingshotatYellowFang。Themaddogwhirledahalfairspring,camedownonhisback,then,withasingleleap,coveredhalfthedistancebetweenhimselfandBettles。

  Butthefatalspringwasintercepted。LonMcFaneleapedfromthewoodpile,counteringhiminmidair。Overtheyrolled,Lonholdinghimbythethroatatarm’slength,blinkingunderthefetidslaverwhichsprayedhisface。ThenBettles,revolverinhandandcoollywaitingachance,settledthecombat。

  ’’Twasasquaregame,Kid,’Lonremarked,risingtohisfeetandshakingthesnowfromouthissleeves;’withafairpercentagetomeselfthatbuckedit。’

  Thatnight,whileLonMcFanesoughttheforgivingarmsoftheChurchinthedirectionofFatherRoubeau’scabin,MalemuteKidtalkedlongtolittlepurpose。

  ’Butwouldyou,’persistedMackenzie,’supposingtheyhadfought?’

  ’HaveIeverbrokenmyword?’

  ’No;butthatisn’tthepoint。Answerthequestion。Wouldyou?’

  MalemuteKidstraightenedup。’Scruff,I’vebeenaskingmyselfthatquestioneversince,and—’

  ’Well?’

  ’Well,asyet,Ihaven’tfoundtheanswer。’

  INAFARCOUNTRY。

  WHENAMANJOURNEYSintoafarcountry,hemustbepreparedtoforgetmanyofthethingshehaslearned,andtoacquiresuchcustomsasareinherentwithexistenceinthenewland;hemustabandontheoldidealsandtheoldgods,andoftentimeshemustreversetheverycodesbywhichhisconducthashithertobeenshaped。Tothosewhohavetheproteanfacultyofadaptability,thenoveltyofsuchchangemayevenbeasourceofpleasure;buttothosewhohappentobehardenedtotherutsinwhichtheywerecreated,thepressureofthealteredenvironmentisunbearable,andtheychafeinbodyandinspiritunderthenewrestrictionswhichtheydonotunderstand。Thischafingisboundtoactandreact,producingdiversevilsandleadingtovariousmisfortunes。Itwerebetterforthemanwhocannotfithimselftothenewgroovetoreturntohisowncountry;ifhedelaytoolong,hewillsurelydie。

  Themanwhoturnshisbackuponthecomfortsofaneldercivilization,tofacethesavageyouth,theprimordialsimplicityoftheNorth,mayestimatesuccessataninverseratiotothequantityandqualityofhishopelesslyfixedhabits。Hewillsoondiscover,ifhebeafitcandidate,thatthematerialhabitsarethelessimportant。Theexchangeofsuchthingsasadaintymenuforroughfare,ofthestiffleathershoeforthesoft,shapelessmoccasin,ofthefeatherbedforacouchinthesnow,isafterallaveryeasymatter。Buthispinchwillcomeinlearningproperlytoshapehismind’sattitudetowardallthings,andespeciallytowardhisfellowman。Forthecourtesiesofordinarylife,hemustsubstituteunselfishness,forbearance,andtolerance。Thus,andthusonly,canhegainthatpearlofgreatprice—truecomradeship。Hemustnotsay’thankyou’;hemustmeanitwithoutopeninghismouth,andproveitbyrespondinginkind。Inshort,hemustsubstitutethedeedfortheword,thespiritfortheletter。

  WhentheworldrangwiththetaleofArcticgold,andthelureoftheNorthgrippedtheheartstringsofmen,CarterWeatherbeethrewuphissnugclerkship,turnedthehalfofhissavingsovertohiswife,andwiththeremainderboughtanoutfit。Therewasnoromanceinhisnature—thebondageofcommercehadcrushedallthat;hewassimplytiredoftheceaselessgrind,andwishedtoriskgreathazardsinviewofcorrespondingreturns。Likemanyanotherfool,disdainingtheoldtrailsusedbytheNorthlandpioneersforascoreofyears,hehurriedtoEdmontoninthespringoftheyear;andthere,unluckilyforhissoul’swelfare,healliedhimselfwithapartyofmen。

  Therewasnothingunusualaboutthisparty,exceptitsplans。Evenitsgoal,likethatofalltheotherparties,wastheKlondike。Buttherouteithadmappedouttoattainthatgoaltookawaythebreathofthehardiestnative,bornandbredtothevicissitudesoftheNorthwest。EvenJacquesBaptiste,bornofaChippewawomanandarenegadevoyageur(havingraisedhisfirstwhimpersinadeerskinlodgenorthofthesixty—fifthparallel,andhadthesamehushedbyblissfulsucksofrawtallow),wassurprised。Thoughhesoldhisservicestothemandagreedtotraveleventothenever—openingice,heshookhisheadominouslywheneverhisadvicewasasked。

  PercyCuthfert’sevilstarmusthavebeenintheascendant,forhe,too,joinedthiscompanyofargonauts。Hewasanordinaryman,withabankaccountasdeepashisculture,whichissayingagooddeal。Hehadnoreasontoembarkonsuchaventure—noreasonintheworldsavethathesufferedfromanabnormaldevelopmentofsentimentality。Hemistookthisforthetruespiritofromanceandadventure。Manyanothermanhasdonethelike,andmadeasfatalamistake。

  Thefirstbreak—upofspringfoundthepartyfollowingtheice—runofElkRiver。Itwasanimposingfleet,fortheoutfitwaslarge,andtheywereaccompaniedbyadisreputablecontingentofhalf—breedvoyageurswiththeirwomenandchildren。Dayinanddayout,theylaboredwiththebateauxandcanoes,foughtmosquitoesandotherkindredpests,orsweatedandsworeattheportages。Severetoillikethislaysamannakedtotheveryrootsofhissoul,andereLakeAthabascawaslostinthesouth,eachmemberofthepartyhadhoistedhistruecolors。

  ThetwoshirksandchronicgrumblerswereCarterWeatherbeeandPercyCuthfert。Thewholepartycomplainedlessofitsachesandpainsthandideitherofthem。Notoncedidtheyvolunteerforthethousandandonepettydutiesofthecamp。Abucketofwatertobebrought,anextraarmfulofwoodtobechopped,thedishestobewashedandwiped,asearchtobemadethroughtheoutfitforsomesuddenlyindispensablearticle—andthesetwoeffetescionsofcivilizationdiscoveredsprainsorblistersrequiringinstantattention。Theywerethefirsttoturninatnight,withscoreoftasksyetundone;thelasttoturnoutinthemorning,whenthestartshouldbeinreadinessbeforethebreakfastwasbegun。Theywerethefirsttofalltoatmealtime,thelasttohaveahandinthecooking;thefirsttodiveforaslimdelicacy,thelasttodiscovertheyhadaddedtotheirownanotherman’sshare。Iftheytoiledattheoars,theyslylycutthewaterateachstrokeandallowedtheboat’smomentumtofloatuptheblade。Theythoughtnobodynoticed;buttheircomradessworeundertheirbreathsandgrewtohatethem,whileJacquesBaptistesneeredopenlyanddamnedthemfrommorningtillnight。ButJacquesBaptistewasnogentleman。

  AttheGreatSlave,HudsonBaydogswerepurchased,andthefleetsanktotheguardswithitsaddedburdenofdriedfishandpemican。

  ThencanoeandbateauansweredtotheswiftcurrentoftheMackenzie,andtheyplungedintotheGreatBarrenGround。Everylikely—looking’feeder’wasprospected,buttheelusive’pay—dirt’

  dancedevertothenorth。AttheGreatBear,overcomebythecommondreadoftheUnknownLands,theirvoyageursbegantodesert,andFortofGoodHopesawthelastandbravestbendingtothetowlinesastheybuckedthecurrentdownwhichtheyhadsotreacherouslyglided。JacquesBaptistealoneremained。Hadhenotsworntotraveleventothenever—openingice?

  Thelyingcharts,compiledinmainfromhearsay,werenowconstantlyconsulted。Andtheyfelttheneedofhurry,forthesunhadalreadypasseditsnorthernsolsticeandwasleadingthewintersouthagain。

  Skirtingtheshoresofthebay,wheretheMackenziedisemboguesintotheArcticOcean,theyenteredthemouthoftheLittlePeelRiver。

  Thenbeganthearduousup—streamtoil,andthetwoIncapablesfaredworsethanever。Towlineandpole,paddleandtumpline,rapidsandportages—suchtorturesservedtogivetheoneadeepdisgustforgreathazards,andprintedfortheotherafierytextonthetrueromanceofadventure。Onedaytheywaxedmutinous,andbeingvilelycursedbyJacquesBaptiste,turned,aswormssometimeswill。Butthehalf—breedthrashedthetwain,andsentthem,bruisedandbleeding,abouttheirwork。Itwasthefirsttimeeitherhadbeenmanhandled。

  AbandoningtheirrivercraftattheheadwatersoftheLittlePeel,theyconsumedtherestofthesummerinthegreatportageovertheMackenziewatershedtotheWestRat。ThislittlestreamfedthePorcupine,whichinturnjoinedtheYukonwherethatmightyhighwayoftheNorthcountermarchesontheArcticCircle。Buttheyhadlostintheracewithwinter,andonedaytheytiedtheirraftstothethickeddy—iceandhurriedtheirgoodsashore。Thatnighttheriverjammedandbrokeseveraltimes;thefollowingmorningithadfallenasleepforgood。

  ’Wecan’tbemore’nfourhundredmilesfromtheYukon,’concludedSloper,multiplyinghisthumbnailsbythescaleofthemap。Thecouncil,inwhichthetwoIncapableshadwhinedtoexcellentdisadvantage,wasdrawingtoaclose。

  ’HudsonBayPost,longtimeago。Nouseumnow。’JacquesBaptiste’sfatherhadmadethetripfortheFurCompanyintheolddays,incidentallymarkingthetrailwithacoupleoffrozentoes。

  Sufferin’cracky!’criedanotheroftheparty。’Nowhites?’

  ’Narywhite,’Slopersententiouslyaffirmed;’butit’sonlyfivehundredmoreuptheYukontoDawson。Callitaroughthousandfromhere。’

  WeatherbeeandCuthfertgroanedinchorus。

  ’Howlong’llthattake,Baptiste?’

  Thehalf—breedfiguredforamoment。’Workumlikehell,nomanplayout,ten—twenty—forty—fiftydays。Umbabiescome’(designatingtheIncapables),’nocantell。Mebbewhenhellfreezeover;mebbenotthen。’

  Themanufactureofsnowshoesandmoccasinsceased。Somebodycalledthenameofanabsentmember,whocameoutofanancientcabinattheedgeofthecampfireandjoinedthem。ThecabinwasoneofthemanymysterieswhichlurkinthevastrecessesoftheNorth。Builtwhenandbywhom,nomancouldtell。Twogravesintheopen,piledhighwithstones,perhapscontainedthesecretofthoseearlywanderers。Butwhosehandhadpiledthestones?

  Themomenthadcome。JacquesBaptistepausedinthefittingofaharnessandpinnedthestrugglingdoginthesnow。Thecookmademuteprotestfordelay,threwahandfulofbaconintoanoisypotofbeans,thencametoattention。Sloperrosetohisfeet。HisbodywasaludicrouscontrasttothehealthyphysiquesoftheIncapables。

  Yellowandweak,fleeingfromaSouthAmericanfever—hole,hehadnotbrokenhisflightacrossthezones,andwasstillabletotoilwithmen。Hisweightwasprobablyninetypounds,withtheheavyhuntingknifethrownin,andhisgrizzledhairtoldofaprimewhichhadceasedtobe。ThefreshyoungmusclesofeitherWeatherbeeorCuthfertwereequaltotentimestheendeavorofhis;yethecouldwalkthemintotheearthinaday’sjourney。Andallthisdayhehadwhippedhisstrongercomradesintoventuringathousandmilesofthestiffesthardshipmancanconceive。Hewastheincarnationoftheunrestofhisrace,andtheoldTeutonicstubbornness,dashedwiththequickgraspandactionoftheYankee,heldthefleshinthebondageofthespirit。

  ’Allthoseinfavorofgoingonwiththedogsassoonastheicesets,sayay。’

  ’Ay!’rangouteightvoices—voicesdestinedtostringatrailofoathsalongmanyahundredmilesofpain。

  ’Contraryminded?’

  ’No!’ForthefirsttimetheIncapableswereunitedwithoutsomecompromiseofpersonalinterests。

  ’Andwhatareyougoingtodoaboutit?’Weatherbeeaddedbelligerently。

  ’Majorityrule!Majorityrule!’clamoredtherestoftheparty。

  ’Iknowtheexpeditionisliabletofallthroughifyoudon’tcome,’

  Sloperrepliedsweetly;’butIguess,ifwetryrealhard,wecanmanagetodowithoutyou。Whatdoyousay,boys?’

  Thesentimentwascheeredtotheecho。

  ’ButIsay,youknow,’Cuthfertventuredapprehensively;’what’sachaplikemetodo?’

  ’Ain’tyoucomingwithus。’

  ’No—o。’

  ’Thendoasyoudamnwellplease。Wewon’thavenothingtosay。’

  ’Kindo’calkilateyuhmightsettleitwiththatcanoodlin’

  pardnerofyourn,’suggestedaheavy—goingWesternerfromtheDakotas,atthesametimepointingoutWeatherbee。’He’llbeshoretoaskyuhwhatyura—goin’todowhenitcomestocookin’an’gatherin’thewood。’

  ’Thenwe’llconsideritallarranged,’concludedSloper。’We’llpullouttomorrow,ifwecampwithinfivemiles—justtogeteverythinginrunningorderandrememberifwe’veforgottenanything。’

  Thesledsgroanedbyontheirsteel—shodrunners,andthedogsstrainedlowintheharnessesinwhichtheywereborntodie。

  JacquesBaptistepausedbythesideofSlopertogetalastglimpseofthecabin。ThesmokecurleduppatheticallyfromtheYukonstovepipe。ThetwoIncapableswerewatchingthemfromthedoorway。

  Sloperlaidhishandontheother’sshoulder。

  ’JacquesBaptiste,didyoueverhearoftheKilkennycats?’

  Thehalf—breedshookhishead。

  ’Well,myfriendandgoodcomrade,theKilkennycatsfoughttillneitherhide,norhair,noryowl,wasleft。Youunderstand?—tillnothingwasleft。Verygood。Now,thesetwomendon’tlikework。

  They’llbeallaloneinthatcabinallwinter—amightylong,darkwinter。Kilkennycats—well?’

  TheFrenchmaninBaptisteshruggedhisshoulders,buttheIndianinhimwassilent。Nevertheless,itwasaneloquentshrug,pregnantwithprophecy。

  Thingsprosperedinthelittlecabinatfirst。TheroughbadinageoftheircomradeshadmadeWeatherbeeandCuthfertconsciousofthemutualresponsibilitywhichhaddevolveduponthem;besides,therewasnotsomuchworkafterallfortwohealthymen。Andtheremovalofthecruelwhiphand,orinotherwordsthebulldozinghalf—breed,hadbroughtwithitajoyousreaction。Atfirst,eachstrovetooutdotheother,andtheyperformedpettytaskswithanunctionwhichwouldhaveopenedtheeyesoftheircomradeswhowerenowwearingoutbodiesandsoulsontheLongTrail。

  Allcarewasbanished。Theforest,whichshoulderedinuponthemfromthreesides,wasaninexhaustiblewoodyard。AfewyardsfromtheirdoorsleptthePorcupine,andaholethroughitswinterrobeformedabubblingspringofwater,crystalclearandpainfullycold。

  Buttheysoongrewtofindfaultwitheventhat。Theholewouldpersistinfreezingup,andthusgavethemmanyamiserablehourofice—chopping。Theunknownbuildersofthecabinhadextendedthesidelogssoastosupportacacheattherear。Inthiswasstoredthebulkoftheparty’sprovisions。Foodtherewas,withoutstint,forthreetimesthemenwhowerefatedtoliveuponit。Butthemostofitwasthekindwhichbuiltupbrawnandsinew,butdidnotticklethepalate。True,therewassugarinplentyfortwoordinarymen;butthesetwowerelittleelsethanchildren。Theyearlydiscoveredthevirtuesofhotwaterjudiciouslysaturatedwithsugar,andtheyprodigallyswamtheirflapjacksandsoakedtheircrustsintherich,whitesyrup。Thencoffeeandtea,andespeciallythedriedfruits,madedisastrousinroadsuponit。Thefirstwordstheyhadwereoverthesugarquestion。Anditisareallyseriousthingwhentwomen,whollydependentuponeachotherforcompany,begintoquarrel。

  Weatherbeelovedtodiscourseblatantlyonpolitics,whileCuthfert,whohadbeenpronetocliphiscouponsandletthecommonwealthjogonasbestitmight,eitherignoredthesubjectordeliveredhimselfofstartlingepigrams。Buttheclerkwastooobtusetoappreciatetheclevershapingofthought,andthiswasteofammunitionirritatedCuthfert。Hehadbeenusedtoblindingpeoplebyhisbrilliancy,anditworkedhimquiteahardship,thislossofanaudience。Hefeltpersonallyaggrievedandunconsciouslyheldhismuttonheadcompanionresponsibleforit。

  Saveexistence,theyhadnothingincommon—cameintouchonnosinglepoint。Weatherbeewasaclerkwhohadknownnaughtbutclerkingallhislife;Cuthfertwasamasterofarts,adabblerinoils,andhadwrittennotalittle。Theonewasalower—classmanwhoconsideredhimselfagentleman,andtheotherwasagentlemanwhoknewhimselftobesuch。Fromthisitmayberemarkedthatamancanbeagentlemanwithoutpossessingthefirstinstinctoftruecomradeship。Theclerkwasassensuousastheotherwasaesthetic,andhisloveadventures,toldatgreatlengthandchieflycoinedfromhisimagination,affectedthesupersensitivemasterofartsinthesamewayassomanywhiffsofsewergas。Hedeemedtheclerkafilthy,unculturedbrute,whoseplacewasinthemuckwiththeswine,andtoldhimso;andhewasreciprocallyinformedthathewasamilk—and—watersissyandacad。

  Weatherbeecouldnothavedefined’cad’forhislife;butitsatisfieditspurpose,whichafterallseemsthemainpointinlife。

  Weatherbeeflattedeverythirdnoteandsangsuchsongsas’TheBostonBurglar’and’theHandsomeCabinBoy,’forhoursatatime,whileCuthfertweptwithrage,tillhecouldstanditnolongerandfledintotheoutercold。Buttherewasnoescape。Theintensefrostcouldnotbeenduredforlongatatime,andthelittlecabincrowdedthem—beds,stove,table,andall—intoaspaceoftenbytwelve。Theverypresenceofeitherbecameapersonalaffronttotheother,andtheylapsedintosullensilenceswhichincreasedinlengthandstrengthasthedayswentby。Occasionally,theflashofaneyeorthecurlofalipgotthebetterofthem,thoughtheystrovetowhollyignoreeachotherduringthesemuteperiods。Andagreatwondersprangupinthebreastofeach,astohowGodhadevercometocreatetheother。

  Withlittletodo,timebecameanintolerableburdentothem。Thisnaturallymadethemstilllazier。Theysankintoaphysicallethargywhichtherewasnoescaping,andwhichmadethemrebelattheperformanceofthesmallestchore。Onemorningwhenitwashisturntocookthecommonbreakfast,Weatherbeerolledoutofhisblankets,andtothesnoringofhiscompanion,lightedfirsttheslush—lampandthenthefire。Thekettleswerefrozenhard,andtherewasnowaterinthecabinwithwhichtowash。Buthedidnotmindthat。

  Waitingforittothaw,heslicedthebaconandplungedintothehatefultaskofbread—making。Cuthferthadbeenslylywatchingthroughhishalf—closedlids。Consequentlytherewasascene,inwhichtheyferventlyblessedeachother,andagreed,henceforth,thateachdohisowncooking。Aweeklater,Cuthfertneglectedhismorningablutions,butnonethelesscomplacentlyatethemealwhichhehadcooked。

  Weatherbeegrinned。Afterthatthefoolishcustomofwashingpassedoutoftheirlives。

  Asthesugar—pileandotherlittleluxuriesdwindled,theybegantobeafraidtheywerenotgettingtheirpropershares,andinorderthattheymightnotberobbed,theyfelltogorgingthemselves。Theluxuriessufferedinthisgluttonouscontest,asdidalsothemen。

  Intheabsenceoffreshvegetablesandexercise,theirbloodbecameimpoverished,andaloathsome,purplishrashcreptovertheirbodies。Yettheyrefusedtoheedthewarning。Next,theirmusclesandjointsbegantoswell,thefleshturningblack,whiletheirmouths,gums,andlipstookonthecolorofrichcream。Insteadofbeingdrawntogetherbytheirmisery,eachgloatedovertheother’ssymptomsasthescurvytookitscourse。

  Theylostallregardforpersonalappearance,andforthatmatter,commondecency。Thecabinbecameapigpen,andneveroncewerethebedsmadeorfreshpineboughslaidunderneath。Yettheycouldnotkeeptotheirblankets,astheywouldhavewished;forthefrostwasinexorable,andthefireboxconsumedmuchfuel。Thehairoftheirheadsandfacesgrewlongandshaggy,whiletheirgarmentswouldhavedisgustedaragpicker。Buttheydidnotcare。Theyweresick,andtherewasnoonetosee;besides,itwasverypainfultomoveabout。

  Toallthiswasaddedanewtrouble—theFearoftheNorth。ThisFearwasthejointchildoftheGreatColdandtheGreatSilence,andwasborninthedarknessofDecember,whenthesundippedbelowthehorizonforgood。Itaffectedthemaccordingtotheirnatures。

  Weatherbeefellpreytothegrossersuperstitions,anddidhisbesttoresurrectthespiritswhichsleptintheforgottengraves。Itwasafascinatingthing,andinhisdreamstheycametohimfromoutofthecold,andsnuggledintohisblankets,andtoldhimoftheirtoilsandtroubleseretheydied。Heshrankawayfromtheclammycontactastheydrewcloserandtwinedtheirfrozenlimbsabouthim,andwhentheywhisperedinhisearofthingstocome,thecabinrangwithhisfrightenedshrieks。Cuthfertdidnotunderstand—fortheynolongerspoke—andwhenthusawakenedheinvariablygrabbedforhisrevolver。Thenhewouldsitupinbed,shiveringnervously,withtheweapontrainedontheunconsciousdreamer。Cuthfertdeemedthemangoingmad,andsocametofearforhislife。

  Hisownmaladyassumedalessconcreteform。Themysteriousartisanwhohadlaidthecabin,logbylog,hadpeggedawind—vanetotheridgepole。Cuthfertnoticeditalwayspointedsouth,andoneday,irritatedbyitssteadfastnessofpurpose,heturnedittowardtheeast。Hewatchedeagerly,butneverabreathcamebytodisturbit。Thenheturnedthevanetothenorth,swearingneveragaintotouchittillthewinddidblow。Buttheairfrightenedhimwithitsunearthlycalm,andheoftenroseinthemiddleofthenighttoseeifthevanehadveered—tendegreeswouldhavesatisfiedhim。Butno,itpoisedabovehimasunchangeableasfate。Hisimaginationranriot,tillitbecametohimafetish。Sometimeshefollowedthepathitpointedacrossthedismaldominions,andallowedhissoultobecomesaturatedwiththeFear。Hedweltupontheunseenandtheunknowntilltheburdenofeternityappearedtobecrushinghim。EverythingintheNorthlandhadthatcrushingeffect—theabsenceoflifeandmotion;thedarkness;theinfinitepeaceofthebroodingland;theghastlysilence,whichmadetheechoofeachheartbeatasacrilege;

  thesolemnforestwhichseemedtoguardanawful,inexpressiblesomething,whichneitherwordnorthoughtcouldcompass。

  Theworldhehadsorecentlyleft,withitsbusynationsandgreatenterprises,seemedveryfaraway。Recollectionsoccasionallyobtruded—recollectionsofmartsandgalleriesandcrowdedthoroughfares,ofeveningdressandsocialfunctions,ofgoodmenanddearwomenhehadknown—buttheyweredimmemoriesofalifehehadlivedlongcenturiesagone,onsomeotherplanet。ThisphantasmwastheReality。Standingbeneaththewind—vane,hiseyesfixedonthepolarskies,hecouldnotbringhimselftorealizethattheSouthlandreallyexisted,thatatthatverymomentitwasa—roarwithlifeandaction。TherewasnoSouthland,nomenbeingbornofwomen,nogivingandtakinginmarriage。Beyondhisbleakskylinetherestretchedvastsolitudes,andbeyondthesestillvastersolitudes。Therewerenolandsofsunshine,heavywiththeperfumeofflowers。Suchthingswereonlyolddreamsofparadise。ThesunlandsoftheWestandthespicelandsoftheEast,thesmilingArcadiasandblissfulIslandsoftheBlest—ha!ha!Hislaughtersplitthevoidandshockedhimwithitsunwontedsound。Therewasnosun。ThiswastheUniverse,deadandcoldanddark,andheitsonlycitizen。Weatherbee?

  AtsuchmomentsWeatherbeedidnotcount。HewasaCaliban,amonstrousphantom,fetteredtohimforuntoldages,thepenaltyofsomeforgottencrime。

  HelivedwithDeathamongthedead,emasculatedbythesenseofhisowninsignificance,crushedbythepassivemasteryoftheslumberingages。Themagnitudeofallthingsappalledhim。

  Everythingpartookofthesuperlativesavehimself—theperfectcessationofwindandmotion,theimmensityofthesnow—coveredwildness,theheightoftheskyandthedepthofthesilence。Thatwind—vane—ifitwouldonlymove。Ifathunderboltwouldfall,ortheforestflareupinflame。Therollingupoftheheavensasascroll,thecrashofDoom—anything,anything!Butno,nothingmoved;theSilencecrowdedin,andtheFearoftheNorthlaidicyfingersonhisheart。

  Once,likeanotherCrusoe,bytheedgeoftheriverhecameuponatrack—thefainttraceryofasnowshoerabbitonthedelicatesnow—crust。Itwasarevelation。TherewaslifeintheNorthland。Hewouldfollowit,lookuponit,gloatoverit。Heforgothisswollenmuscles,plungingthroughthedeepsnowinanecstasyofanticipation。

  Theforestswallowedhimup,andthebriefmiddaytwilightvanished;

  buthepursuedhisquesttillexhaustednatureasserteditselfandlaidhimhelplessinthesnow。Therehegroanedandcursedhisfolly,andknewthetracktobethefancyofhisbrain;andlatethatnighthedraggedhimselfintothecabinonhandsandknees,hischeeksfrozenandastrangenumbnessabouthisfeet。Weatherbeegrinnedmalevolently,butmadenooffertohelphim。Hethrustneedlesintohistoesandthawedthemoutbythestove。Aweeklatermortificationsetin。

  Buttheclerkhadhisowntroubles。Thedeadmencameoutoftheirgravesmorefrequentlynow,andrarelylefthim,wakingorsleeping。

  Hegrewtowaitanddreadtheircoming,neverpassingthetwincairnswithoutashudder。Onenighttheycametohiminhissleepandledhimforthtoanappointedtask。Frightenedintoinarticulatehorror,heawokebetweentheheapsofstonesandfledwildlytothecabin。Buthehadlainthereforsometime,forhisfeetandcheekswerealsofrozen。

  Sometimeshebecamefranticattheirinsistentpresence,anddancedaboutthecabin,cuttingtheemptyairwithanaxe,andsmashingeverythingwithinreach。Duringtheseghostlyencounters,Cuthferthuddledintohisblanketsandfollowedthemadmanaboutwithacockedrevolver,readytoshoothimifhecametoonear。But,recoveringfromoneofthesespells,theclerknoticedtheweapontraineduponhim。Hissuspicionswerearoused,andthenceforthhe,too,livedinfearofhislife。Theywatchedeachothercloselyafterthat,andfacedaboutinstartledfrightwhenevereitherpassedbehindtheother’sback。Theapprehensivenessbecameamaniawhichcontrolledthemevenintheirsleep。Throughmutualfeartheytacitlylettheslush—lampburnallnight,andsawtoaplentifulsupplyofbacon—greasebeforeretiring。Theslightestmovementonthepartofonewassufficienttoarousetheother,andmanyastillwatchtheirgazescounteredastheyshookbeneaththeirblanketswithfingersonthetrigger—guards。

  WhatwiththeFearoftheNorth,thementalstrain,andtheravagesofthedisease,theylostallsemblanceofhumanity,takingontheappearanceofwildbeasts,huntedanddesperate。Theircheeksandnoses,asanaftermathofthefreezing,hadturnedblack。Theirfrozentoeshadbeguntodropawayatthefirstandsecondjoints。

  Everymovementbroughtpain,butthefireboxwasinsatiable,wringingaransomoftorturefromtheirmiserablebodies。Dayin,dayout,itdemandeditsfood—averitablepoundofflesh—andtheydraggedthemselvesintotheforesttochopwoodontheirknees。Once,crawlingthusinsearchofdrysticks,unknowntoeachothertheyenteredathicketfromoppositesides。Suddenly,withoutwarning,twopeeringdeath’s—headsconfrontedeachother。Sufferinghadsotransformedthemthatrecognitionwasimpossible。Theysprangtotheirfeet,shriekingwithterror,anddashedawayontheirmangledstumps;andfallingatthecabin’sdoor,theyclawedandscratchedlikedemonstilltheydiscoveredtheirmistake。

  Occasionallytheylapsednormal,andduringoneofthesesaneintervals,thechiefboneofcontention,thesugar,hadbeendividedequallybetweenthem。Theyguardedtheirseparatesacks,storedupinthecache,withjealouseyes;fortherewerebutafewcupfulsleft,andtheyweretotallydevoidoffaithineachother。ButonedayCuthfertmadeamistake。Hardlyabletomove,sickwithpain,withhisheadswimmingandeyesblinded,hecreptintothecache,sugarcanisterinhand,andmistookWeatherbee’ssackforhisown。

  Januaryhadbeenbornbutafewdayswhenthisoccurred。Thesunhadsometimesincepasseditslowestsoutherndeclination,andatmeridiannowthrewflauntingstreaksofyellowlightuponthenorthernsky。Onthedayfollowinghismistakewiththesugarbag,Cuthfertfoundhimselffeelingbetter,bothinbodyandinspirit。Asnoontimedrewnearandthedaybrightened,hedraggedhimselfoutsidetofeastontheevanescentglow,whichwastohimanearnestofthesun’sfutureintentions。Weatherbeewasalsofeelingsomewhatbetter,andcrawledoutbesidehim。Theyproppedthemselvesinthesnowbeneaththemovelesswind—vane,andwaited。

  Thestillnessofdeathwasaboutthem。Inotherclimes,whennaturefallsintosuchmoods,thereisasubduedairofexpectancy,awaitingforsomesmallvoicetotakeupthebrokenstrain。NotsointheNorth。Thetwomenhadlivedseemingeonsinthisghostlypeace。

  Theycouldremembernosongofthepast;theycouldconjurenosongofthefuture。Thisunearthlycalmhadalwaysbeen—thetranquilsilenceofeternity。

  Theireyeswerefixeduponthenorth。Unseen,behindtheirbacks,behindthetoweringmountainstothesouth,thesunswepttowardthezenithofanotherskythantheirs。Solespectatorsofthemightycanvas,theywatchedthefalsedawnslowlygrow。Afaintflamebegantoglowandsmoulder。Itdeepenedinintensity,ringingthechangesofreddish—yellow,purple,andsaffron。SobrightdiditbecomethatCuthfertthoughtthesunmustsurelybebehindit—amiracle,thesunrisinginthenorth!Suddenly,withoutwarningandwithoutfading,thecanvaswassweptclean。Therewasnocolorinthesky。Thelighthadgoneoutoftheday。Theycaughttheirbreathsinhalf—sobs。Butlo!theairwasaglintwithparticlesofscintillatingfrost,andthere,tothenorth,thewind—vanelayinvagueoutlineofthesnow。A

  shadow!Ashadow!Itwasexactlymidday。Theyjerkedtheirheadshurriedlytothesouth。Agoldenrimpeepedoverthemountain’ssnowyshoulder,smileduponthemaninstant,thendippedfromsightagain。

  Thereweretearsintheireyesastheysoughteachother。A

  strangesofteningcameoverthem。Theyfeltirresistiblydrawntowardeachother。Thesunwascomingbackagain。Itwouldbewiththemtomorrow,andthenextday,andthenext。Anditwouldstaylongereveryvisit,andatimewouldcomewhenitwouldridetheirheavendayandnight,neveroncedroppingbelowtheskyline。Therewouldbenonight。Theice—lockedwinterwouldbebroken;thewindswouldblowandtheforestsanswer;thelandwouldbatheintheblessedsunshine,andliferenew。Handinhand,theywouldquitthishorriddreamandjourneybacktotheSouthland。Theylurchedblindlyforward,andtheirhandsmet—theirpoormaimedhands,swollenanddistortedbeneaththeirmittens。

  Butthepromisewasdestinedtoremainunfulfilled。TheNorthlandistheNorthland,andmenworkouttheirsoulsbystrangerules,whichothermen,whohavenotjourneyedintofarcountries,cannotcometounderstand。

  Anhourlater,Cuthfertputapanofbreadintotheoven,andfelltospeculatingonwhatthesurgeonscoulddowithhisfeetwhenhegotback。Homedidnotseemsoveryfarawaynow。Weatherbeewasrummaginginthecache。Ofasudden,heraisedawhirlwindofblasphemy,whichinturnceasedwithstartlingabruptness。Theothermanhadrobbedhissugar—sack。Still,thingsmighthavehappeneddifferently,hadnotthetwodeadmencomeoutfromunderthestonesandhushedthehotwordsinhisthroat。Theyledhimquitegentlyfromthecache,whichheforgottoclose。Thatconsummationwasreached;thatsomethingtheyhadwhisperedtohiminhisdreamswasabouttohappen。Theyguidedhimgently,verygently,tothewoodpile,wheretheyputtheaxeinhishands。Thentheyhelpedhimshoveopenthecabindoor,andhefeltsuretheyshutitafterhim—atleasthehearditslamandthelatchfallsharplyintoplace。Andheknewtheywerewaitingjustwithout,waitingforhimtodohistask。

  ’Carter!Isay,Carter!’

  PercyCuthfertwasfrightenedatthelookontheclerk’sface,andhemadehastetoputthetablebetweenthem。

  CarterWeatherbeefollowed,withouthasteandwithoutenthusiasm。

  Therewasneitherpitynorpassioninhisface,butratherthepatient,stolidlookofonewhohascertainworktodoandgoesaboutitmethodically。

  ’Isay,what’sthematter?’

  Theclerkdodgedback,cuttingoffhisretreattothedoor,butneveropeninghismouth。

  ’Isay,Carter,Isay;let’stalk。There’sagoodchap。’

  Themasterofartswasthinkingrapidly,now,shapingaskillfulflankmovementonthebedwherehisSmith&Wessonlay。Keepinghiseyesonthemadman,herolledbackwardonthebunk,atthesametimeclutchingthepistol。

  ’Carter!’

  ThepowderflashedfullinWeatherbee’sface,butheswunghisweaponandleapedforward。Theaxebitdeeplyatthebaseofthespine,andPercyCuthfertfeltallconsciousnessofhislowerlimbsleavehim。Thentheclerkfellheavilyuponhim,clutchinghimbythethroatwithfeeblefingers。ThesharpbiteoftheaxehadcausedCuthferttodropthepistol,andashislungspantedforrelease,hefumbledaimlesslyforitamongtheblankets。Thenheremembered。Heslidahanduptheclerk’sbelttothesheath—knife;andtheydrewveryclosetoeachotherinthatlastclinch。

  PercyCuthfertfelthisstrengthleavehim。Thelowerportionofhisbodywasuseless,TheinertweightofWeatherbeecrushedhim—

  crushedhimandpinnedhimtherelikeabearunderatrap。Thecabinbecamefilledwithafamiliarodor,andheknewthebreadtobeburning。Yetwhatdiditmatter?Hewouldneverneedit。Andtherewereallofsixcupfulsofsugarinthecache—ifhehadforeseenthishewouldnothavebeensosavingthelastseveraldays。Wouldthewind—vaneevermove?Whynot’Hadhenotseenthesuntoday?Hewouldgoandsee。No;itwasimpossibletomove。Hehadnotthoughttheclerksoheavyaman。

  Howquicklythecabincooled!Thefiremustbeout。Thecoldwasforcingin。Itmustbebelowzeroalready,andtheicecreepinguptheinsideofthedoor。Hecouldnotseeit,buthispastexperienceenabledhimtogaugeitsprogressbythecabin’stemperature。Thelowerhingemustbewhiteerenow。Wouldthetaleofthiseverreachtheworld?Howwouldhisfriendstakeit?Theywouldreaditovertheircoffee,mostlikely,andtalkitoverattheclubs。Hecouldseethemveryclearly,’PoorOldCuthfert,’theymurmured;’notsuchabadsortofachap,afterall。’Hesmiledattheireulogies,andpassedoninsearchofaTurkishbath。Itwasthesameoldcrowduponthestreets。Strange,theydidnotnoticehismoosehidemoccasinsandtatteredGermansocks!Hewouldtakeacab。Andafterthebathashavewouldnotbebad。No;hewouldeatfirst。Steak,andpotatoes,andgreenthingshowfreshitallwas!Andwhatwasthat?Squaresofhoney,streamingliquidamber!Butwhydidtheybringsomuch?Ha!ha!

  hecouldnevereatitall。Shine!Whycertainly。Heputhisfootonthebox。Thebootblacklookedcuriouslyupathim,andherememberedhismoosehidemoccasinsandwentawayhastily。

  Hark!Thewind—vanemustbesurelyspinning。No;ameresinginginhisears。Thatwasall—ameresinging。Theicemusthavepassedthelatchbynow。Morelikelytheupperhingewascovered。Betweenthemoss—chinkedroof—poles,littlepointsoffrostbegantoappear。Howslowlytheygrew!No;notsoslowly。Therewasanewone,andthereanother。Two—three—four;theywerecomingtoofasttocount。Thereweretwogrowingtogether。Andthere,athirdhadjoinedthem。Why,therewerenomorespots。Theyhadruntogetherandformedasheet。

  Well,hewouldhavecompany。IfGabrieleverbrokethesilenceoftheNorth,theywouldstandtogether,handinhand,beforethegreatWhiteThrone。AndGodwouldjudgethem,Godwouldjudgethem!

  ThenPercyCuthfertclosedhiseyesanddroppedofftosleep。

  TOTHEMANONTHETRAIL。

  ’DUMPITIN。’

  ’ButIsay,Kid,isn’tthatgoingitalittletoostrong’Whiskyandalcohol’sbadenough;butwhenitcomestobrandyandpeppersauceand—’

  ’Dumpitin。Who’smakingthispunch,anyway?’AndMalemuteKidsmiledbenignantlythroughthecloudsofsteam。’Bythetimeyou’vebeeninthiscountryaslongasIhave,myson,andlivedonrabbittracksandsalmonbelly,you’lllearnthatChristmascomesonlyonceperannum。AndaChristmaswithoutpunchissinkingaholetobedrockwithnaryapaystreak。’

  ’Stackuponthatferahighcyard,’approvedBigJimBelden,whohadcomedownfromhisclaimonMazyMaytospendChristmas,andwho,aseveryoneknew,hadbeenlivingthetwomonthspastonstraightmoosemeat。’Hain’tfergotthehoochwe—unsmadeontheTanana,heyyeh?’

  ’Well,Iguessyes。Boys,itwouldhavedoneyourheartsgoodtoseethatwholetribefightingdrunk—andallbecauseofagloriousfermentofsugarandsourdough。Thatwasbeforeyourtime,’MalemuteKidsaidasheturnedtoStanleyPrince,ayoungminingexpertwhohadbeenintwoyears。’Nowhitewomeninthecountrythen,andMasonwantedtogetmarried。Ruth’sfatherwaschiefoftheTananas,andobjected,liketherestofthetribe。Stiff?Why,Iusedmylastpoundofsugar;

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