North

Back at Nolan the men of the Koyukuk had a hard time to dissuade Lou Gordon from accompanying the men who took Dalzene’s trail. Beside herself with grief and rage, the girl vowed she would trail the thief to the ends of the earth, and would shoot him if necessary to recover the great dog that was the pride of her heart. Better council prevailed, however, and she consented to let the men take the trail, with the proviso that in case they should return without the dog, or evidence that he was dead, she herself would strike straight for the Yukon and would never return until she had found Skookum.

It was with a heavy heart that two days later, she and her father, whose knee had recovered sufficiently to stand the trail, loaded their sled with provisions, and with the malamute, Kog, in the lead traces, headed back for Myrtle.

“Ye’re a fine lass, my daughter, to be givin’ the old man the half of ye’re winnin’s,” said Gordon, when they were once more back in their own cabin on Myrtle, as he added the contents of a gold sack to his precious “b’iler” fund, “The way it is now, the dump won’t have to show nothin’ big to have enough to set that b’iler on the claim. An’ then, lass, ye’ll see! I’ll show ’em! I’ll begin takin’ out the dust so fast I’ll have ’em all back on Myrtle! Why, lass, it stands to reason now, don’t it, that wi’ cuttin’ wood takin’ more’n half the time fer wood thawin’, if ye’d use a b’iler an’ do ye’re thawin’ wi’ steam——”

“Yes, yes, dad. I know. We’ve been all over the whole thing thousands of times before. But, oh, if Skookum were only here! I hope they catch that horrible Dalzene! I hope they kill him!”

“Tush, tush! Lass, who be ye to be pratin’ of killin’! ‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.’ ’Tis the word of the Gude Book, itself. Have patience, lass, an’ I make no doubt, Enright an’ Rim Rock, an’ Johnny Atline will find ye’re dog for ye. But, if they don’t, ye can break in another leader.”

“Another leader!” cried the girl, “Just as if leaders like Skookum grew on trees. I tell you there never was a leader like Skookum, and there never will be! Why, do you know what I was going to do? I was going to Nome and enter my team in the Alaska Sweepstakes this spring!”

“Nome! Ye were thinkin’ of goin’ to Nome! An’ run the Alaska Sweepstakes! What talk is this? Why, lass, the teams that run the Sweepstakes is worth thousands of dollars. Some of them is owned by millionaires, an’ what chance would ye’re dogs have against the likes of them?”

“Just the same, I was going to try. My team is worth thousands of dollars, too. I could have won their Sweepstakes! But it’s no use to think of it, now. With Skookum gone, they’re no better than a lot of outfits. Skookum was the dog that made the whole team. With Skookum in the lead every dog in the team was worth three times as much as he is with any other leader. Why, dad, those dogs could just fly! I never let them do their best—even when I made the fifty miles in seven hours and forty minutes, I let them take their time. They were the best team in the world!”

Old Man Gordon smiled: “There, there, lass. Ye’ve worked wi’ them dogs so much ye’ve got the one idea in ye’re head. Ye should not let ye’re thoughts run to one idea. Ye should take a broad view of things——”

“One idea!” cried the girl, “Why, dad, can’t you see that you are the one who has let one idea creep in and absorb your whole life? You can’t think or talk about anything but your old boiler.”

“But that’s different. It’s a money makin’ scheme—a business proposition.”

“And, so is the Alaska Sweepstakes a business proposition! Don’t you know that the prize for that race runs anywhere from three to ten thousand dollars? And not only that, but think of the money it would mean to me in the price of the puppies I could sell! Why, dad, if I could win that race, you could order your boiler without waiting to clean up your dump—could have it delivered at Bettles on the first steamboat this summer.”

“Ye don’t tell me! Are ye sure there’s so much money put up on a dog race? An’ if we’d win it, would ye let me have the thousand dollars I’m still lackin’ fer the b’iler?”

“Why, of course I would, dad! But, it’s no use to think about it, now. Skookum’s gone. And without Skookum, we couldn’t possibly win.”

“Take heart, lass,” encouraged the old man, “The boys’ll find him. An’ when is this big race comin’ off?”

“In April, about the tenth or twelfth. But it’s about six hundred miles to Nome. They’ve got to find Skookum and get back here by the middle of February. Because if we go I want to start by the eighteenth. I’ve figured it all out. If we start the eighteenth of February we can make Nome by the first of April, and that will give me time to take the dogs over the course and rest them up for the big race.”

“But, lass, forty days for six hundred miles is allowin’ a lot of time. We could make it in a month.”

“Yes, we could make it. But I want to take it easy. If we allow forty days, we only have to average fifteen miles a day. That won’t crowd the dogs nor wear them out. It will just keep them in fine condition.”

“Do ye know the way? Is there any trail?”

“Yes, I know the way. Rim Rock came across last winter, and he drew me a map. You go down the river to Alakaket Mission, then up the Alatna to the Kobuk portage, then down the Kobuk to its mouth, then swing south across Hotham Inlet, down the Choris Peninsula, and across Eschscholtz Bay to Candle, then on down to Council, and then to Nome.”

“But surely, there ain’t enough travel that way to give us a trail!”

“Well, not exactly a trail, all the way,” admitted the girl “but we can make it all right. Some of the Kobuks that were up at Nolan for the celebration came and went by way of the Alatna, so their trail will help even if it is snowed under. Then there is always some travel up and down the Kobuk. And after we reach Candle there is a good trail to Council and Nome.”

The old man shook his head slowly: “I’m feared ’tis a hare-brained scheme, ye’ve got. But, the stakes are worth tryin’ for, if ye believe ye’ve got a chance to win. What do the boys say? Have ye told ’em?”

“Yes indeed! It was Pete Enright that first suggested it, and I talked with several of the others, and they all say that my dogs have a chance, and a good chance to win. And if we go they want to send a lot of dust down to back my dogs. They say that the odds ought to be big against them because nobody off the Koyukuk has ever heard of them.” She paused, the light faded from her eyes, and as she turned away, her voice trembled: “But—it’s no use—without Skookum.”

The old man comforted her as best he could with prophecies of the dog’s early return, but long after she had gone to bed he heard her sobbing softly to herself.

As day after day passed with no word from the men who had taken Dalzene’s trail, Lou Gordon’s spirits sank lower and lower. Her hope of recovering Skookum diminished with each passing day and with it came the one big disappointment of her life. Ever since Pete Enright had suggested that she enter her dogs in the Alaska Sweepstakes, anticipation of the trip to Nome had filled her mind to the exclusion of everything else. Nome! The very name breathed enchantment. And, she herself, Lou Gordon, should actually see Nome! Nome, with its great stores, with its windows glittering with diamonds and wonderfully wrought jewelry. With its hotel that had running water and wonderful white bath tubs that would be filled with hot water by the simple turning of a faucet. With its big church and its wonderful organ. With its mines whose great dumps were piled higher than the top of the tallest tree, veritable mountains of pay dirt. And all these things that Rim Rock had seen and described to her, she should see for herself. Of course, she had always known that such things existed. In books and magazines they were depicted in the advertisements, and were mentioned casually in the stories as common appurtenances to the everyday life of that wonder land that was the “outside.” But her world, far within the Arctic Circle—the world she lived and knew, was so far removed in her imagination from the world of the great “outside” that it had always seemed to her that the “outside” was a fanciful world of enchantment. True, most of the men she knew had seen these things at some time in their lives, had even accepted them as a part of their normal existence, had ridden in railway trains, and great steamboats, and even in automobiles, but that was before they had come into the Arctic.

Often she had wondered as she talked with these men why they had deliberately left all these things behind them and of their own choice had come into the land of the strong cold, the winter darkness, and the midnight summer sun. She knew that the answer was “gold.” But what was there about gold that made it worth the sacrifice. The money of the “outside”—the money made of paper was just as good as gold—was much better than gold, for could not one carry many thousands of dollars’ worth of it in a very small flat wallet? Why then did they want gold? And why was there no gold in the land that had everything else? For years she had pondered these things, had read, and had studied the books and the magazines, but the answer had never seemed quite clear. And, at last, she was to see Nome! Rim Rock had told her there was a railroad at Nome—not a very long railroad, he had admitted, but it was as wide as any railroad, and maybe she could ride on a train! She, who had never seen any camp bigger than Dawson! And had never expected to see any. That was the rosy dream she had dreamed—and now—it was gone! She would never see Nome. Not for her was the luxury of the smooth white bath tub with the warm water that poured in at the touch of her hand, not for her to ride on a railroad train, not for her eyes were the glitter of the diamonds and the jewelry in the windows. Oh, well—ice glittered, as brilliantly as diamonds, Rim Rock had said. And one could ride on a dog sled, and one could bathe in the empty petrol tins, and could warm the water on the stove. It did not really matter—only— At this point, despite herself, the tears would start from her eyes, and she would hurriedly brush them away and call herself a fool.

On the morning of the fifteenth day after the disappearance of Skookum, the girl stepped from the cabin with her bag of rice and tallow balls and walking to the dog corrals, began to toss the balls over the fence to the waiting dogs. Suddenly she heard a sound behind her, and the next instant two great paws reared high, she pitched forward into the snow, and the next moment was aware that a great tawny shape stood over her, and that a soft red tongue was gently caressing her cheek.

“Skookum! Skookum!” she cried, the word ending in an hysterical scream that brought Old Man Gordon wide-eyed from the creek bed with his ax gripped in his two hands. The next moment the girl was sobbing with her arms about the great dog’s neck and her face buried in the thick hair of his shoulder.

“Is Enright here? Who brought him, lass?”

For answer the girl held up the four-inch length of chain that dangled from the collar: “He broke away!” she cried, “He couldn’t hold him—couldn’t keep him from me! And look! Look at the scars on his nose, and that split in his ear! He’s had him muzzled, and then the other dogs fought him when he was helpless!”

“He’s yanked him around wi’ a twitch!” exclaimed the old man, indignantly, “I’ve seen Injuns do it.”

“And he’s starved him, too. See how thin he is. But he’s all right! He’s the same old Skookum, and it won’t take long to get him into shape again. And, oh, dad, now we can go to Nome!”

Early in February, Lou Gordon made a flying trip to Nolan. There she found Rim Rock and Johnny Atline who were waiting for Enright to return, and break the news to the girl that the search had been fruitless. All Nolan crowded about her as she halted her dogs before the roadhouse, and all Nolan listened to the story of Skookum’s return, and rejoiced in the girl’s good fortune.

“And, now, we are going to Nome,” she concluded, “and try for the Alaska Sweepstakes. We’ll start on the eighteenth, and that will give us plenty of time to get there by the first of April.”

“An’ I want five hundred dollars’ worth of the best odds you kin git me, that you’ll win!” cried Atline, “I’ll give you the dust soon as Clem weighs it out.”

“Me, too,” said Rim Rock, “But, say, Miss Lou, ain’t they no way you kin figger to drive them dogs yerself?”

The girl laughed: “Yes, Rim Rock,” she answered, “I will drive them myself. I don’t know how I’ll work it, but I’ll manage it, somehow. Poor dad! He nearly lost us the other race, and I don’t intend to take any chances with this one.”

“Do you know how come Dalzene to pass him, Chris’mus?” asked Bill Britton.

“No, dad never said much about the race. I’ve asked him, and all he would say was that Dalzene passed him at the turn, and that he couldn’t get Skookum to take the lead again.”

“Well, you know, I was up to the turn to see that all teams went the hull route, an’ yer dad came in and pulled up to rest his dogs. Said you made him promise to rest ’em fer ten minutes. Well, the ten minutes was up, an’ the old man, he jumps onto the sled and yells at the dogs, an’ cracks his whip right between the lead dog’s ears, an’ the next minute the team was all fightin’ an’ in the doggondest mixup you ever seen. It tuk us an hour to git ’em strung out and started agin, an’ meanwhile Dalzene had passed an’ gone.”

“I knew it!” laughed the girl, “I knew that whip would get him into trouble. I tried to make him leave it behind, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I broke those dogs, and I rarely use the whip.”

“If you’re goin’ to drive the dogs, I’ll take a thousand dollars’ worth of what ever you kin git,” broke in Wilcox. Other sacks were produced, and until nearly every man in the camp had expressed his eagerness to bet anywhere from three hundred to a thousand dollars on Lou Gordon’s dogs.

“Guess they’ll know us Koyukukers is willin’ to back Koyukuk dogs!” exclaimed Wilcox, as he accompanied the men to the saloon to weigh out the dust.

“Too bad Enright ain’t here,” opined Atline, “He’d sure like to be in on this.”

“I’m puttin’ him in fer a thousand,” said Wilcox, “He’d go that much, an’ it ain’t right he should git left out. But, say, this here ain’t never goin’ to do!” he cried, eyeing the sacks of dust that littered the bar, “Them folks has got a long trail ahead, an’ if they’ve got to pack all this dust, they won’t have no room fer grub an’ dog feed.” Producin’ pencil and paper, he listed the bets and added the total. “Thirteen thousand, five hundred dollars! Let’s see, that’s more’n fifty pound of dust!”

“Use Dalzene’s bills,” suggested Atline, “He sure left enough of ’em around here. You must have a bunch of ’em, Clem, an’ Crim’s got some, an’ we’ll hit out an’ locate the rest. They’re jest as good an’ a heap easier to pack.”

“Now, you’ve got it!” cried Wilcox, “I paid off them bets an’ I recollect that about nine or ten thousand of his money was paper. You all skittle around an’ collect it together, an’ we won’t have to send down much dust.”

“Lord!” grinned Atline, “If she wins that race, with the odds say at five- or ten-to-one agin her, she’ll have to hire a elephant to pack the dust back.”

“Elephants is sacred at Nome,” reminded Rim Rock, “But they’s banks there. She kin bring it back in paper.”

“An’ they’ll be paper on the Koyukuk,” grinned Atline, “For the next fifty years, where they never was no paper saw till Dalzene sprinkled his’n around. First thing we know we’ll be plumb civilized!”