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 he talked showed he’d been among white
men.
“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.”
“Thanks, awfully; but I’ve got too many on hand as it is,” he replied.
AN ODYSSEY OF THE NORTH
6
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
River, heavily burdened with letters for Salt Water. However, their dogs had been replaced
by fresh ones; but then, they were dogs.
The men had expected some sort of a lay-over 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 never ending 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
gaining their old stamping-grounds in the Chippewyan Country. 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 city-bred man would to a day’s holiday in the woods.
He of the Otter Skins seemed very restless, though he took little interest in the discussion,
and at last he drew Malemute Kid to one side and talked for some time in low tones.
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 conclave, and certain business was
transacted with him. The next day the gang went on up river, but He of the Otter Skins
took several pounds of grub and turned his steps back toward Dawson.
“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 other–at 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 country. 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 Lieutenant-Governor,
AN ODYSSEY OF THE NORTH
7
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, would put me onto something rich. Never’d seen it,
but knew it was rich.
“And talk! why, when he got me outside he was ready to weep. Begged and pleaded; got
down in the snow to me till I hauled him out of it. Palavered around like a crazy man.
Swore
he’s worked to this very end for years and years, and couldn’t bear to be disappointed now.
Asked him what end, but he wouldn’t say. 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 grub-stake. 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 grub-stake 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 grub-stake. 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-hundred-dollar dirt without bringing in the name of Axel
Gunderson; nor could tales of nerve or strength or daring pass up and down the camp-fire
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. Rough-hewn, 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 frost-incrusted hair swept like day across the night, and fell far down his coat of
AN ODYSSEY OF THE NORTH
8
bear-skin. 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 foray, might thunder for
admittance at the castle gate.
Prince bared his womanly arms and kneaded sour-dough bread, casting, as he did so, many
a glance at the three guests,–three 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 good-natured 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
traveled,–had been in his country among others, he gathered from the conversation; and